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James hadn’t even wanted to come.
That was a lie.
He had asked Ellie out, and he had done so willingly – eagerly even. No one could truthfully say he’d been coerced into asking her on a date. Sirius had even told him not to, but that was more out of a desire to be contrary at every possible opportunity than any sort of clairvoyance on his part.
James had met her at the library of all places, which most would agree was exactly the sort of sweet, romantic place anyone would hope to bump into potential true love. Ellie seemed to be equally enthralled by the idea at the time, had smiled winningly at him when he asked her on a date, and had eagerly added him on Facebook to iron out the details.
Early march must be chillier than expected this year because it seemed Ellie had cold feet.
James had stopped looking around hopefully half an hour ago, but hadn’t been quite as disciplined with his phone; this he knew he had been checking frequently every forty-five seconds, despite it being on full volume.
He had spent a considerable amount of time thinking up excuses for her; going from the sensible ‘traffic is terrible’, to the slightly silly ‘perhaps she somehow got lost in a world where google maps exists’, then detoured back to the sagacious ‘perhaps she got lost and her phone died', and still had time to take a sharp turn down Stupidity Avenue and land on ‘a python hid in her lavatory and stole her phone and now she’s in a battle to the death with it’. At this point he had to admit he was reaching.
James had been keeping the group chat appraised of the events – or lack thereof – and had been told to come home immediately both in text and gif form by Sirius (eight minutes into his wait time) and Remus (a more conservative thirty-three minutes beyond the agreed-upon hour). Peter hadn’t seen any of the conversations, and it was widely assumed he would learn about the whole thing whenever he remembered to charge his phone. James was an optimist at the best of times, but this was getting ridiculous, and he was definitely at risk of becoming deeply sulky.
He’d even worn his Red Shirt for this, and his mother would be the first to tell him that it was an absolute waste of the Red Shirt.
James was debating having another drink before going home to his comfiest pj’s, his probably sympathetic friends, and his judgmental cat, when something moved quickly in his periphery.
“Oh sweetie, I’m so, so sorry about that!” cried a voice from above him. James looked up sharply to see a curtain of stunning red hair attached to a woman he had never seen before in his life. A woman who was apparently placing her coat and bag along the plush leather bench opposite him.
The one he had expected to see Ellie in an hour and a half ago.
James blinked, bewildered at this sudden change in proceedings.
“Bill just wouldn’t let me go today, absolute toad that he is, and I forgot to bring my portable charger to work.” The woman finally sat herself down determinedly, pushed her hair out of her face, and looked him dead in the eye.
“Play along,” she muttered through closed teeth. She cleared her throat and continued loudly. “You know what my phone is like, and to top it all off there was a crash on the bloody M6 – I honestly could have got here faster if I’d nabbed Dorcas’ scooter for the job.” She sighed tiredly, clearly fully committed to the role she had written for herself this evening, then looked up and smiled winningly at him.
Ellie who?
“Honestly, Bill should be shot for how he treats you,” said James, trying desperately to wipe the excited grin from his face. Hopefully their potential audience thought he was simply relieved at her final appearance.
“He treats me like his assistant when technically I outrank him,” the woman exclaimed, throwing her hands up. She rolled her eyes, and sighed again; James had to admire her acting skills. “But that’s beside the point. The point is I’m here now, and I am really, really sorry you’ve had to wait so long, but I’m really, really glad you stayed.” She rested her elbow on the table, her cheek in her hand, and smiled serenely at him.
She had really, really green eyes.
“You’re worth the wait every time,” he replied, mirroring her posture. He had known this woman for less than five minutes, but so far he reckoned that was a very truthful statement.
“Reckon they’ve all stopped gawking yet?” she murmured, still smiling at him. James took a look around the room. “No, stop looking,” she laughed, swatting playfully at his wrist on the table, “you’ll give it away!”
“How am I going to know if they’ve stopped watching us if I’m watching you?” he countered.
“You are a terrible liar.”
“True,” he grinned, “but I thought I did alright this time.” The woman snorted.
“Passable at best. You got caught at every turn as a child, didn’t you?”
“No biscuits from the jar for me. Couldn’t sneak past my cat, let alone my mother,” he agreed. She laughed again.
“I’m Lily, by the way” she added as an afterthought. “Lily Evans. I think it’s only proper that as fellow co-conspirators here we should know each other’s names.”
“I’m James Potter. Usually at this part of the conversation I’d shake your hand, but I think the potential Nosy Nellies would then guess we’re not as close as we say we are.” Lily tapped her nose.
“You’re improving.”
“I’m a quick study. I’ll shake your hand at the end instead, mix things up a bit.”
“I think the appropriate window for that has definitely gone now.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Lily laughed. James was starting to realise he liked her laugh a little too much for someone he’d only just clapped eyes on.
“Can I get you anything?” said the waitress, appearing at the end of the table and eyeing them both curiously.
“Um.” James looked over at Lily.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve not even stopped to look at the menu yet. It’s been one of those days,” she said smoothly, “Could you give us another ten minutes maybe?” The waitress nodded and returned to the kitchen.
“Just a quick, casual question here, are you a super spy?” asked James. Lily snorted unceremoniously.
“Just because I’m a better liar than the worst liar on the planet I have to be a super spy?”
“Look, you can’t throw all this shade at my acting and subterfuge skills.”
“You mean the ones you don’t have?”
“You wound me. Besides, the conditions aren’t right.” He sat back and folded his arms.
“The conditions?” She raised an eyebrow in response The corner of her lips twitched.
“Yes, I’m working off the cuff here while you had time to prep for the role.” This time Lily didn’t hold back her grin.
“Oh yes, all that prep time on the walk across one medium-sized restaurant.”
“Your script annotations must be stellar.”
“I workshopped the role for weeks.”
“What first made you bond with the character?”
“I went really method to connect with Lily Evans and her whole outlook on life.
“Especially her views on miserable restaurant situations?”
“Oh, especially those.” James laughed again, and plucked the drinks menu off the stand.”
“Well, I think it was completely obvious to anyone with eyes that I was meant to be seeing someone tonight, and that hasn’t gone to plan. How do you feel about continuing your dashing rescue and commiserating with me? What’s your poison?” He scanned the cocktail list, pretending he hadn’t practically memorised the damn thing by now.
“I hope you don’t mind that I barged over here like this,” Lily said suddenly. James looked up sharply and was surprised to see her looking a little sheepish.
“Definitely not,” he replied enthusiastically.
“I know I didn’t exactly ask permission to just plonk myself down at your table.”
“As much as I am always a big fan of consent–”
“Glad to hear it.”
“–Even an amateur such as myself can realise that if you’d stopped to ask permission here it would have ruined the Oscar-worthy performance you just gave. And I would have said no if I was uncomfortable.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” She sighed with relief. “I just couldn’t help seeing you from our table, and you’d definitely been here longer than me, and it all just made me a bit cross. Didn’t really think before I dived right in.” She nibbled furtively at her lower lip, and James valiantly resisted the urge to take hold of her hand.
“I couldn’t have been happier to see you if you’d literally worn a white suit of armour,” he insisted and was rewarded with a soft smile. “I just hope you didn’t ruin your own night to come to my rescue.”
“Ruin? Oh no, the complete opposite. Monthly compulsory dinner date with my sister and her odious wanker of a husband. Seeing you was the best part of the night,” Lily scoffed.
“In which case I’m glad I was here to be rescued by you.”
“Truth be told this is really a mutual rescuing.”
“Excellent. Mutual Rescuing; I’m getting that on a t-shirt.” Lily shook her head solemnly.
“No, not good enough, you’ve got to put it on something like a lifeguard jacket.”
“Well, it’s only fitting.”
“As all jackets should be.” James guffawed loudly, not caring if he was drawing odd looks from the surrounding Nosy Nellies Who May Have Stopped Being Nosy But Were Still In The Vicinity And Should Therefore Be Regarded With Caution.
“You should be careful with those. A beautiful woman firing off puns is guaranteed to have me swooning before last orders.”
“Perhaps that was my intention the whole time,” Lily replied, picking up her menu with a smile. James blinked, then coughed. He too grabbed a menu, more to cover up his brain short-circuiting than for any actual need to browse the appetisers.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, and hoped his voice didn’t sound too strangled. “Have you even had a chance to eat yet?” Lily scowled.
“Only a salad. Vernon complains if I order anything he thinks is too expensive, even though his insistence on paying every time is thoroughly against my wishes, and Petunia tuts if I have anything even remotely resembling a calorie. Normally I order what I want to spite them but I was tired and headachy when I got here and couldn’t be arsed with the usual script.”
“In other words, you’re absolutely starving.”
“God yes! I want the biggest plate of greasy chips right now, and probably the steak. Although the risotto sounds really good too. And definitely a dessert, although the Santander banking app will cry loudly at me later.”
“Have anything you like, it’s my treat,” said James.
“Absolutely not. Mutual rescuing, remember? I can pay for myself.”
“I mean, in the interest of full mutual rescuing, we should be paying for each other’s meals.”
“True, but that still wouldn’t be entirely fair as – bringing you back to my earlier point – I’m starving.”
“And I’m not? I’ve been waiting for my date since seven!” James declared emphatically.
“Seven?”
“Seven.” He nodded solemnly. Lily stared at him blankly.
“James it’s almost half eight.”
“I know.”
“That is longer than anyone should reasonably have to wait without a valid explanation.”
“I know.”
“Did you somehow think you couldn’t go home?”
“I mainly stayed for the shirt.”
“What?”
“This.” He points down at himself. “The Red Shirt. Not to be confused with Star Trek’s red shirts.” Lily glanced down at the shirt, then looked quickly back at his face.
“It’s a really nice shirt, but why did it stop you from leaving?”
“It’s only brought out for special occasions, and I couldn’t bear the thought of what my mother would say if I wasted it on a bad date.” This time Lily studied him, her eyes travelling across his shoulders and down his chest. The room became a little warmer than before, which James would insist with his dying breath was the reason for his sudden blush.
“You know what,” she said finally, “I get it. You look very dapper in it.”
“Thank you, that’s why my mum bought it.”
“Thank your mum for me, it’s a very enjoyable addition to the scenery tonight.”
“She’s thoroughly aware of that, even if she’s not present.”
“Don’t get me wrong I’m very selfishly glad you stayed;” Lily added quickly, “I just feel awful knowing you’ve had such a miserable evening.”
“That’s a terrible over-exaggeration, Lily Evans. I’ve had a terrible hour and a half, then it suddenly got dramatically better very quickly.” Lily beamed at him and was about to add something else when the waitress smoothly returned to the end of the table.
“Oh dear, we got distracted,” said Lily, before the waitress could pop the all-important question.
“Okay, how about this: a big bowl of chips for the middle, you get the steak, I’ll get the risotto, and we’ll get a spare side plate each, and share them both. What do you reckon?” Lily blinked at him for a moment.
“James Potter, you are an amazing human/genius.”
“I try, I really do.”
“And we’ll split the bill?”
“You’re really twisting my arm on this one, Lily.”
“Yes, I am.”
“If you insist,” James sighed dramatically. Lily grinned in triumph.
“Could I please get a raspberry gin and lemonade with mine?” she added, looking up at the waitress.
“And I’ll have an appletini, please,” James said, handing over his menu. The waitress left with their order and their thanks, and the two of them were alone again, beaming at each other like children.
“I’m also paying for my own dessert when I get it, you know.”
“Who says we won’t want to split them too?”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“All smug.”
“I’m not being smug.”
“Just because you knew we wouldn’t be able to only pick one dessert each,” said lily, stabbing a spoon through the lemon panna cotta.
“They’re just all so good!” James crowed. Lily maturely threw her napkin at him.
“You’re smirking in the smuggest way right now.”
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are.”
“Smirking is such a French thing to do. You know how I feel about the French, Lily.”
“Is it?”
“Probably. I’ve also been told I’m terrible at smirking, which is entirely unrelated to my feelings on smirking as an action.”
“I never said it was a good smirk,” she said, with one perfectly raised eyebrow – James was sure she’d been doing that more since he lamented his unfulfilled desire to do just that – “just that you were making an attempt.”
“First my acting skills, then my smirking capabilities, your insults truly know no bounds, do they?”
“I believe I was very complimentary when you showed me your portraits.”
“And I thoroughly expect writing snippets when you get home tonight,” added James, leaning back in his seat, and pushing the last mouthful of gooey sticky toffee pudding towards her. She grabbed it gleefully and spooned it up with gusto.
“Are you willing to let me wait till tomorrow morning? It will be a pain to boot up my laptop tonight when all I want is to crash in bed.”
“I’ll suffer through the pain of waiting for you and your very sensible need for sleep.”
“I thank you for your pains.”
“They are very painful. Quite papercutty.” Lily laughed. There were only a handful of potential Nosy Nellies left; the pair of them were definitely among the last to leave. James found himself feeling a little mournful at the idea that this – whatever it was, he was unsure if he was allowed to call it a date - was coming to an end. He had two sips left of water in his glass, and Lily’s second gin was nothing but melted ice and one soggy raspberry. He had her number and had saved her in his phone as Mutual Rescuer, along with a selfie of the pair of them he had taken to reassure his mates when he hadn’t come home as expected.
He’d promised them the full story later, and Sirius had been placated enough to refrain from sending the hounds out to find him.
“Hey,” he said softly, playing with the rim of his glass and wanting to shy away a little when she met his gaze.
He knew he definitely should say something, preferably something eloquent and heartfelt that summed up how overwhelmingly happy she had made him tonight, simply by coming over to sit with him. That she had stayed, despite how late it was getting, and despite being tired. She had stayed, and it had been one of the best nights of his life, and how did he tell someone that they just lit up his entire existence by sitting down opposite him without even thinking it through?
How did he go about telling someone that he had been thoroughly resigned to a depressing evening of moping under his duvet and hoping his cat would take pity on him? How did he go about explaining that he was probably never going to stop smiling when he thought about this night?
How did he tell someone that he really didn’t want the night with them to end, and failing stopping time with a magic wand, how exactly did he make sure he could do this again at every available occasion?
“I’m really glad tonight didn’t go to plan. I think it would have been an absolute tragedy to have not met you,” he said finally, which definitely didn’t explain everything he was feeling, but it certainly wasn’t a bad start. “And I know I’ve got your number – which is excellent, thanks for that – but also, could we do this again sometime? Maybe soon? Ish?”
“Specifically this?” asked Lily, gesturing at the table between them.
“Pretty much, yeah. I’d just suggest one small change.” Lily pushed her empty plate to the side.
“Really? What’s that?” James inhaled deeply.
Lily had taken a dive when she’d walked over tonight, risking him being every possibly kind of rude creep. Now it seemed to be his turn.
“Next time, rather than a mutual rescuing, it’s a properly planned date,” he said. His bravery was rewarded with a beaming smile and every fibre of his being melted just a little more.
Lily slid her hand into his; an easy feat to accomplish, as his hand was already palm up on the table waiting.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” she said.
“Go on.”
“I got told off by Vernon and Tunie because I was too busy staring at you and stopped paying attention to them,” Lily murmured, and she was so close.
“It’s the pull of the Red Shirt; it’s powerful.”
“Hmmm, definitely. That and your hair. I really like your hair.”
“Obviously. I also really like your hair.” Her fingers began drawing patterns on his wrist, before sliding further up his forearm and back down again, teasing and feather-light and sending shivers down his spine.
“So is that a yes?” he asked.
“Like there was ever any doubt.”
“Just double-checking.”
He doesn’t know who made the final move – perhaps it was both of them together – but finally her lips were on his, and he could taste the sticky toffee sauce from the pudding on her tongue. The last of the Nosy Nellies were probably avidly staring or thoroughly disgusted at them, possibly both, but he couldn’t have cared less. His hand went around her elbow, and hers gripped his forearm, while his other hand was firm on the back of her neck; her nails scraped softly along the faint stubble on his jawline. It was perfect in a way first kisses had absolutely no right to be, and if he wasn’t already entirely smitten with this fantastic woman (he was definitely already entirely smitten with this fantastic woman) then he was now.
If somewhere in the world Ellie was regretting her decision to skip their date, that was her loss. Perhaps she should go make a match with Bill instead. James was now heavily engaged in ensuring that he and Lily Evans continued to mutually rescue each other for a long time to come.