A Sirius Change

Chapter 1: Diversions

November 2007

Snip

Snip

Snip

Snip

He winced with every swish of the stylist's wand. Every hair that fell to the floor was like a piece of flesh being ripped away. No, it didn't hurt physically, he grudgingly admitted to himself, but what it represented to him was acquiescence. Submission. Succumbing to a more dominant authority. That was what made him want to thrash Sirius. That, or throw up at the mere suggestion that he was submitting. Yet, there he sat. He closed his eyes and reviewed the argument that had taken place earlier that morning. Picking the scab of the confrontation to assure himself that he'd made sure Sirius knew what this was costing him.

He'd entered Sirius' office. He'd even been on time. This was, after all, his first legitimate job. An actual office. How odd.

He'd gotten every other position on the strength of family connections. Not that he hadn't been an excellent evil wizard - he had been - but he hadn't had to prove anything to anyone in The Circle. His credentials were excellent.

Here, everyone was suspicious of him. Could he do the job, or would he betray them all. Or was he simply a spoiled rich kid who wouldn't know real work if it hit him over the head. He knew he'd have to prove himself here, so he had presented himself at the appropriate place and time to go over his new responsibilities.

"Welcome to the team, Draco," Sirius had said enthusiastically, reaching his hand out to shake Draco's. Draco had been taken aback at the warmth of this greeting. He'd expected more wariness, more suspicion. Apparently saving Harry's life carried a lot of weight with the Deputy Chancellor.

"Thanks." Draco had released the hand, and they both sat on opposite sides of the large polished oak desk. There was a definite air of authority in the room and the balance of power obviously rested with Sirius. This made Draco bristle a bit, as if he felt completely off-balance.

"Right then," Sirius began. "I wanted you with this office because I thought you could provide valuable insight into the workings of the minds of dark wizards. Your job will be to observe an operation and provide input into where you believe the Circle's motivation lies. A consultant, so to speak."

"Aren't consultants one step up from prostitutes? Telling you what you want to hear and affirming your own ideas?"

"That's just it; I know what I think the Circle would do in any particular circumstance. I want you to tell me what I'm not thinking of. I spent a fair amount of time with a number of dark wizards, but I'll be damned if I know what makes them tick. Of course the ones I knew were insane, literally, with all the Dementors, and there were limits on the time one could spend in private conversation in those days, so my judgment is a bit warped, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, actually I would. Also, you only spoke with the weak ones that got thrown into Azkaban. The smart ones didn't get caught."

"Like your father?"

"Like my father, at least until I had anything to do with it. How is dear old Dad, anyway?" He spoke with a wry grimace.

"He is fine, as far as I know. Not necessarily enjoying his time with Dementors, but physically he is unharmed. There might be some chafing from the shackles on his arms and legs, but on the whole he's all right, so I've been told. I won’t go to Azkaban myself, so I haven't personally inspected his situation. I do believe you are free to visit him, if you'd like?"

"No, thank you. I'm not all that concerned and would prefer to think of him as dead most of the time. So what should I know about this job?"

They spent a good hour and a half going over Draco's responsibilities, the structure of the IFW, and what security precautions he would have to get used to.

"Now that you know the worst of it, I want you to realize you will have considerable latitude from this office. I'm not going to require you to show up for uniform inspection or even call me sir, but there are a few things I am going to require."

Draco had known there would be a catch and was wondering if Sirius would require a blood sacrifice or simply some sort of oath taken on the hilt of a dirk. Sirius was a Scot after all, Draco thought darkly, remembering the oaths he'd learned about in his History of Magic classes. But what Sirius had asked was completely unexpected.

"I need you to get a haircut and spiff up the wardrobe a bit."

It was more the shock at the request than the actual action that got his hackles up. He was uneasy to begin with, and then to think that something as insubstantial as his appearance could make a difference, just tipped him into the comfort of belligerence that had served him well all these years.

"What do you mean, spiff up the wardrobe, and cut the hair? Didn't the dress code go out a few decades ago? You're wearing jeans? What the hell's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"This is not a suggestion, it's a requirement. Draco, part of the work I need you for will require you to blend in. You are well known in the wizard community, the last thing I need is for you to stand out."

"I do glamours very well."

"I don't need glamours, I need someone who can pass as a grown up."

"Are you implying I choose to look adolescent just because I don't look like you?"

"I didn't say that, but when you swagger in here in Battlefield Earth costume, heads turn, people notice. I need you to be less noticeable."

"And I'll be less noticeable with short hair, decked out in Armani? First off it's none of this department's business how I dress or look. If you're seeking control you can take this job and shove it up your ass, because I've had enough control freaks in my life."

"It's not about control at all, it's about being able to complete your assignments without getting killed or drawing so much attention to yourself that you're ineffective."

"Yar, right. First it's the clothes and hair, then it's Draco change your attitude, then it's Draco lick my boot, or other convenient appendage."

"Draco, I despise that type of person, and if you ever turn into that I will braid your hair myself, but you need to comply with this."

"Is this an order, General?" he asked with a mocking challenge.

"If that's necessary, then it's an order."

Draco glared at Sirius for a long moment, mumbled under his breath, spun on his heel and left the office.

"That's General fucking whoreson to you!" Sirius bellowed after him.

****

The stylist tapped Draco on the shoulder and handed him the mirror. It was chin length, cut in a jagged, shagged look popular with the upper crust art set. Draco nodded approval, curtly, and paid the stylist. His temper was beginning to cool as he realized this was a better style for him, and most likely easier to maintain as well. Still, it was the principle that irked him.

He'd caved. And he was headed to the shopping district to cave some more, which really irked him. As he turned all the arguments over in his head he realized it came down to the respect he had for Sirius. He'd never worked for the good guys, except working with Quinn. He wanted to be useful, and he did think he could contribute, but he was very unsure about whether he could instinctively do good.

He hadn't been raised that way.

Draco knew that what he’d seen that day was Sirius' strength of character; he wanted it for himself, in a way, and the only way to do it was to learn from the best. He wasn’t seeking Sirius' approval per se, but he had to grudgingly admit, the boss seemed to know what he was doing.

He turned into the nearest menswear shop; he'd go for robes tomorrow. Shopping was a new experience for him as well. Most of his clothes had been custom tailored when he'd been a true Malfoy, and Quinn had kept him clothed right after his break with the Circle. He was however cut off from the Malfoy fortune, and while the pay was sufficient, he needed to learn the word "budget". He'd gotten a reward for his role in Allegra's downfall, but had spent most of it on a flat in Soho and on a new broom. This was going to finish that off for sure, he thought, as he was approached by a very charming saleswoman. Maybe he'd bill the Deputy Chancellor's office for the clothes. This thought made him smile at least.

******************

Cordelia crossed her moderately sized office in the depths of the headquarters of the International Federation of Wizards as she greeted the latest in a succession of people applying for the position of nanny for their two children, Charlotte and Ian. She was determined to find someone before her brain imploded and left her numb and mumbling in a corner. She'd interviewed four candidates that morning and had two more this afternoon.

"May as well get this over with on one day," she'd told the IFW child care resource department. They had taken care of the initial screening, security checks, and set up the interviews at her office. She appreciated that they had simplified the process for her and thought again about the convenience of being the Deputy Chancellor's wife. There were definitely drawbacks, but the perks were nice.

She extended her hand to this latest candidate as she stated the obvious, "Hello, I'm Cordelia Black, you must be," she hesitated as she glanced at the résumé in her hand, "Nicholas?"

"Yes, please call me Nick," said the tall lanky wizard that entered the office in front of her. He had turquoise business robes with orange trainers peaking out from the tattered hems of jeans. His dark blonde hair was gathered back into a thick plat that hung midway down his back and she noticed a small gold hoop in his right ear.

"Come in and have a seat," she said as she gestured towards a small conference table in the corner of her office.

"So tell me a bit about your experience."

"I just finished up five years with a family of three. I started with the Bonnevilles when their youngest was six. They're all at Hogwarts now and Mary, that's the mum, was laid off from Gringotts, so here I am."

"So you were with them nearly ten years?"

"That's right. Mary's Owldress is there on the résumé. Please feel free to owl her – she’s expecting to hear from any prospective employers."

They went on to talk for nearly an hour about child rearing philosophies, Nick's childhood, Charlotte and Ian's previous nanny, and a variety of other subjects.

"It says here you did advanced studies in magical creatures?"

"Yes, I went to Loch Ness Institute. I specialized in non-human studies."

"Why didn't you pursue that?"

"Not much demand really. All the good keeper jobs were taken and I didn't have very good connections. I really couldn't stand studying beasts in captivity. It's very difficult to get grants to study any interesting beasts in the wild. Most want to just cage them up and bring them back to the lab. There aren't all that many beasts left, in Scotland particularly."

"So you're from Inverness?"

"Yes, a small town just east of there."

"Do you miss Scotland, or were you glad to leave?"

"I miss it tremendously, although being in London does provide a lot of variety in terms of employment opportunities and also availability to the arts. I love wandering through galleries and loitering at museums."

"Oh? Do you know my mum, Kate Hunter? She frequents the Muggle galleries and has a lot to do with the London Muggle art scene?"

"Actually I have heard the name. I don't tend to go to the Muggle galleries as much…the pictures just tend to sit there, don't they?"

"Ummm…yes…they do. So if we employed you, you wouldn't mind trips to Aberdeen on a regular basis?"

"No! That would be great..."

"Good. Our last nanny despised Scotland and would whine every time we went. My family has a farm there, so we go on weekends quite frequently. You needn't go every weekend, but occasionally we might need you."

"I'd go as often as you could tolerate me actually. It is beautiful up there. Particularly the back country."

"Do you ride?"

"Horses? Do you own horses?"

She could see the excitement spill over from his eyes to the rest of his face. "Yes, we have four up at the farm, and there’s an Atheonon stable where we ride as well."

"What I wouldn't give to ride again. I grew up on horseback. My mum thought brooms were too dangerous when I was young and thought cars were the work of Muggle scum, begging your pardon. I have no such thoughts. I have one of those cute little VW's to get about. Floo Powder makes me sneeze, and I hate the tube. Makes me feel claustrophobic."

Cordelia looked pleased. She'd always felt horse people tended to be more trustworthy people than non-horse people, and she liked the way he thought in general. "So what would a typical day be like with you as our nanny?"

"How old are the children?"

"Charlie, that's our oldest, is five and is in Madame Munchkins Magical Montessori…"

"Oh, that's a fabulous place. I've heard wonderful things about her school."

"Yes! We've been really pleased with what Charlie has learned there and just the way they have with all the kids. Ian is our boy. He's just turned one. He still naps in the afternoon, but is refusing his morning nap."

"Right, well, I'd arrive as early as you'd need, generally between 7:30 and 8:00. I'd finish up breakfast, if it was necessary, take Charlie to school. Then Ian and I would do some errands, or go to the playground. I'd pick up Charlie, feed them lunch, put Ian down for a nap, then Charlie and I would work on reading, puzzles, a bit of magic maybe? Then I'd get Ian up, feed them both snacks, and watch them play until you or your husband got home."

"Does the monotony ever get to you?"

"No, not really. When I was with the Bonnevilles, I developed a habit of taking notes about the child's behavior. I turned it into a bit of a case study, as if I was studying animal behavior. It makes it a project rather than just a job. Some day I'll collate all my notes and try to draw some grand scientific theory from them…but for now they're just to keep my brain occupied."

"Follow the child?"

"Yes…follow, observe, and carry a big stick."

They both laughed. "What do you think of women who want to work when their children are small?"

"I'd say they liked what they do. Not everyone can approach children as a case study, particularly not their parents. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. If yours is not child care, that's better for me, isn't it?"

"So you don't think they are selfish and neglectful?"

"Of course not, I'd be out a career if I thought so."

"You'd be surprised at the number of women, particularly, who apply for this position who look at me as evil itself."

"Well," he said, stretching the vowel out while he seemed to gather his thoughts, "just as there are wizards who can do potions and others who can transfigure, there are those who are skilled at teaching and caring for young children. It comes more naturally for some. Just because you aren't an architect doesnae mean you should not own a house."

Cordelia liked that analogy. She felt relief at finding someone she felt could understand both her and her children. That was unusual in a nanny and weighed heavily in Nick's favor.

"I want you to meet my husband." Cordelia got up, collected her papers, and headed for the office door. She noticed Nick had gotten to his feet, but was holding back.

"Ummm.. that would be….err…Mr. umm…Sirius….Sirius Black?"

"Yes, that's right. You did know that, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but…it's just that…I mean…I was …I thought I'd have more time to prepare. That's all."

"Prepare what?"

"Well… myself." By this time Nick was red in the face and looking nervously about. "It's just I grew up scared to death of the man. I can't tell you how many nightmares I had. Particularly the first year he'd broken out of Azkaban. I was sure he was going to come and get me for not eating my spinach."

"Really?" She was surprised. "Did you ever eat your spinach?"

"No."

"Well, he couldn't have scared you too much, then."

Nick laughed nervously.

Although she knew that Sirius had scared a whole generation of magical kids, she hadn't thought of it in years. "He's not really like that at all," she assured him as they were bustling through the corridors.

"Of course. I followed his trial while I was at Loch Ness. You! You're that Muggle they showed."

"Errr… yes…"

"I thought you must be nutters!"

"I thought that, too, at the time, but he really is a wonderful man. Very gentle and kind."

"I'm sure. It's just that meeting your childhood nightmare is a bit intimidating."

They'd arrived at the Deputy Chancellor's suite of offices. Cordelia paused briefly before the secretary. "Hi Samantha… Sirius is in, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

Cordelia proceeded down the hall, and was nearly flattened by Draco Malfoy storming down the corridor, apparently on his way out. She opened the door, just as a small vase whizzed past her ear.

"God-damn, arrogant, pig-swiving arsehole!" Sirius shouted, rubbing his shoulder.

"Ummmm…." Cordelia entered hesitantly. "I take it from the gender of the curses you are not talking about me?"

"What the hell do you want." Sirius bellowed. But as the last of the words escaped his lips his face went through a transformation from anger to surprise to realization to regret. "Oh! It's you. Sorry….are you all right?"

"I'm fine…I'm glad your aim isn't very good. This is Nick Swann, our new nanny."

"Hi Nick," Sirius said, as he extended his hand to the slightly trembling wizard.

"Ummm… hello… ummm….," Nick mumbled as he bravely thrust his hand to meet Sirius'. "Right. Nice to meet you."

"Yes... you, too. So you passed her test?"

"I…ummm…yes…ummm I suppose I did," he said, glancing at Cordelia.

"When do you start?"

"Is Monday all right?" he asked, slightly surprised at hearing he'd gotten the job.

"Yes!" Cordelia and Sirius said in unison.

With this a tall, dark haired wizard entered the office with a crate full of reports. "Where do you want these?" he asked.

"God, there are two of you?" Nick asked, surprised. "No, wait. He's taller."

"Nick, this is Colin. He's my chief of security and sometimes decoy. I've been told there is a resemblance, but I'm much better looking," Sirius remarked with a slight twitch in one corner of his mouth.

Colin rolled his eyes, still holding the crate. "Samantha asked me to bring these in."

"Oh, put them there by the desk."

"Colin, this is Nick, Charlie and Ian's new nanny."

"Great! Nice to meet you. I'll need to get together with you before you start to go over security procedures for the family. We could do that now, if you like?"

"Sure...umm…fine," he said a bit nervously.

"Come with me. I'll show you about. You'll need to be familiar with this place. These two spend a lot of time here." He motioned his head towards Cordelia and Sirius.

As soon as the door closed Cordelia gave a cheer and threw her arms around Sirius. Feeling lighter than she had in months.

"Great! Does this mean you won't be cranky-Cordelia anymore?"

"Me? Cranky? Never!" She kissed him long and hard.

"Only when you've been with two cranky children for three months." He kissed her back longer and harder.

Cordelia pulled back, smiling, "Are you saying I've been cranky for three months?"

"No, only the past 12 weeks," Sirius said with a grin, arms still firmly around her waist.

She broke away and sat down on his desk. "Well, no more. I can feel my brain starting to wrinkle again."

"Wrinkle?" He looked at her blankly.

"You know, when you're but a wee bairn your brain is smooth and round. Then, as you learn things and use it, it gets all the folds and wrinkles you're used to seeing…yes, I am making this up…but then, if you don't use your brain, it starts to smooth out again."

"I see," he said skeptically.

"Well, my brain had just about flattened out."

"So wrinkly brains are a good thing?"

"Definitely."

"Face wrinkles are bad, but brain wrinkles are good. Okay, got it," he said with a look of concentration.

"Face wrinkles aren't all that bad, depending on who they are on. You, for example, look distinguished."

"Me? I haven't got any wrinkles."

"Not many…just these," she said, leaning forward and feathering kisses near the corners of his eyes. "And these…" feathering more kisses near the corners of his mouth.

"No, really, Cordelia, I have to get started on these reports," he sighed, as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples.

"So, what are all these reports?"

"Time travel. Ever since Allegra decided to try it without a talisman, we figured we'd better get a better handle on all the methods available. These are the reports on that so far. You would not believe all the different ways to go about this. Short term time travel, long-term time travel, travel within your lifetime, time travel outside your lifetime, magical travel, Muggle travel…"

"Muggles can time travel?" she asked, picking up one of the rolls of parchment from his desk and unfurling it, so it cascaded onto the floor and rolled halfway to the window.

"Yeah! This is one of the reports from External affairs. It talks about a genetic trait. Not much is known, we think you need a talisman and some sort of portal in addition to being genetically able to travel. They're working on pinning that down. There seems to be other Muggle methods, too."

"I expect magic people have more ways than us?"

"Of course. This crate has the reports from External affairs. These three crates are from Internal Affairs, and these two are from the ID."

"It's a wonder anyone stays put in their own time!" she exclaimed, as she rolled up the parchment and tossed it into the pile on his desk.

"Time travel is a very tightly regulated talent," he said sternly.

"Like turning animagus?" Cordelia asked with a wry smile.

Sirius chuckled, "Well, sort of...but hopefully better monitored. Anyway, it's very closely specified in our laws who, where, when, and with what wizards can time travel. Generally it's for short times, an hour, a day…very rarely for a year. Magical time travel tends to be within a lifetime. Muggle time travel tends to be exclusive of one's lifetime."

"Hmmm, keep me posted. It sounds rather interesting, although I really do tend to like this time period the best," she commented, hopping off the desk and circling behind his chair.

"You wouldn't want to travel if you could?" he asked, leaning his head back.

"No, too much inconvenience, plus you wouldn't be there…so why would I want to go?" she asked, as she massaged his shoulders.

"Oh? You wouldn't want to do without me, eh?" Enjoying the feel of her hands as the tension was released from his shoulders.

Cordelia smiled, "Should I prove it to you?" She paused, and then began to run her hands beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Are you implying, Mrs. Black, some sort of midday dalliance?" he asked innocently.

"Me? I'd never propose anything indecent." She tried to maintain a very proper visage while beginning to undo the buttons.

"Right then, you do understand what you're playing at?" he asked, as he ran his hands up her arms and grasped them firmly.

"I hope so…" That thought was cut off by a short scream as Sirius pulled Cordelia over the back of the chair and onto his lap. She knew she had pushed him a bit too far to tease, but she was in the mood for a little more strenuous activity, and she hoped he was as well. It seemed that way to her as he kissed her and seemed to have no intention of breaking that kiss anytime soon. His mouth was firm and warm, and she could feel her heart race as it still did, even though they'd been married over five years and done this how many thousands of times.

He broke the kiss, lifted his wand and closed the doors, then instructed his secretary that they were not to be disturbed for a bit. During another break in the explorations of each other's souls through the thin skin that separated them, she felt herself being carried to the couch on the other side of the office. They stretched out as he tickled the base of her neck with the tip of his tongue.

"Hmmm, do that again, but don't stop," she murmured.

So he did and he didn't.

**********

Later, as they were disentangling their limbs and rearranging their clothes, the door flew open and banged against the wall.

"Now what, Saman…..What the hell do you want?" Sirius looked incredulous.

"Is this better?" Draco Malfoy asked, turning all the way around. His hair was trimmed to just below the ear, and he was dressed in camel colored wool trousers with a v-necked green cotton sweater. His shoes were no longer torn and dirty trainers, but suede loafers. The only thing not pleasant about the image before them was the look of disgusted disdain on Malfoy's face.

"You look great!" Cordelia exclaimed, leaning over the back of the couch.

"Thank you, Mrs. Black. Your husband felt compelled earlier to play fashion consultant. I'm sending you the bill, by the way," he commented, looking at Sirius.

"Him! Fashion consultant?" she snorted "It's all I can do to get him to wear a decent shirt every day. If he had his way, you'd all be in jeans."

"Cordelia, that is not helpful," he said in mock reproach as he got up off the couch.

"Sorry. I'll go. What time tonight?" she asked, smiling broadly.

"I'll be home around six."

"Right. See you then." She kissed him briefly and left the room.

Sirius turned to Draco, "New clothes, but not a new attitude, I see."

"Can't change everything overnight. So now, what do you want from me."

"You sent me the bill?"

"I can't afford this stuff anymore. Been a bit cut off from the family fortune, don't you know."

"I pay you rather well, though."

Draco glared.

Sirius sighed, " Fine, we'll pay it this time, just don't get used to it." He moved back behind his desk and motioned for Draco to sit down.

"I need you to learn as much as you can about time travel talismans. Try to locate them all and talk to their owners. See what you can get about their legends and folklore. We have the official reports on most of them. I need the colloquial reports."

"Sounds like fun. You have my report on Allegra's activities, right?"

"Yeah, thanks. We need to set up a time to meet about that. Meanwhile I need to get through these reports."

Draco rose to leave, but turned at the door, "On these little expeditions…what should I wear, my Capitan?"

Sirius shook his head and laughed. "I don't care, just don't go nude. I couldn't stomach that."

"No? I've heard some rumors about you and Remus…"

"Out!"

"Yes, sir. General fucking whoreson," Draco said with a glint in his gray eyes.

The door slammed. Sirius picked up a paper weight and tossed it from hand to hand, trying to decide whether to laugh at that last remark or throw the paper weight against the door. Instead he stood there, shaking his head as he cursed with vast fluency and imagery.

"Do you really want to do that? You're going to run out of knickknacks." Colin asked, entering the office through the security door carrying another crate.

Sirius exhaled strongly and shook his head. "Whose idea was it to hire that arsehole?"

"Yours, sir."

"Can I claim temporary insanity?"

"Umm…no."

"Right then…Am I nuts to trust a Malfoy?"

"I'd be cautious, but he can't very well go back to the Circle."

"True," he said, forcing his thoughts to the matter at hand. "Samantha," he called through the intercom.

"When do I need to get these read?"

"Wednesday you meet with the department heads."

"But it's such a nice day," he whined.

"I could set the wards up for the porch," Colin offered.

"That would work. Samantha…could you bring me a flask of pumpkin juice."

***************

"Right then, two A.M., and what's for dinner," Ginny muttered, as she searched her fridge for anything edible. Pulling out the Chinese take away, she checked it for green fuzz and aimed her wand to warm it with one of the few culinary spells she'd remembered. Her mother was continually owling her new recipes. "Quick Cooking for the Overworked Witch", "Charming Cooks", "Magic Meals in Minutes". She filed them and forgot them.

Gathering the food, and the article she still needed to edit before going to bed, Ginny settled on a high stool at the counter separating the kitchen and the large living space in her new flat. Well, new was a relative term. She'd been in the large loft for nearly a year, and the walls still glowed with a flat, industrial, white luminescence that hurt her eyes this late at night. It's not like she didn't know how to decorate. She had lots of ideas and plans. Large paintings were leaning against each wall, her one indulgence besides the loft. She had begun buying art when Circe turned its first profit three years ago.

In the years since it's inception Circe had become the leading non-news magazine in the magical world. Just as Ginny had planned, it had more than just fashion and recipes. Each month had a feature interview. This was often the cover story, and the subject could be from any occupation, wizard or Muggle, famous, not famous, or infamous. With the interview, the subject of the interview was allowed to write an editorial on a topic of choice. This was accompanied by feature articles on the topic the subject chose. Circe now had offices in Sydney, New York, Tokyo, Cairo, Madrid, Paris, Buenos Aires, and Seattle. Each office varied the monthly content to reflect the region they controlled. So, while the interview was the same, many different features were originated in other places around the globe. While this made production more difficult, it made the magazine relevant to people all around the world.

Ginny looked around. She had the paintings placed on the floor near where she planned to hang them, but wanted to paint first, and that would have to wait for now. The large wall in the entryway she wanted to paint in a hunter green. The wall leading up the stairs to the bedroom would be done with a beige texture. The wall opposite the green wall was mostly window with wood shutters that could be opened to let the light in. They were open at the moment, allowing her a view of the city that was exciting to be a part of.

The kitchen, she planned for a light violet with some sort of herbal or fruit motif, which would set off the pear wood cabinetry. So far she had bought a large overstuffed sofa and a large deep chair. One corner had an easel and a drawing table that she typically used for stacking rolls of parchment and magazine proofs. It was comfortable, but definitely needed to get rid of the white.

"Must get Grant to help me paint, next time he's in town…must make an excuse to get him back in the country…hmmmm," Ginny thought absently, while finishing up the noodles.

Grant had helped her start Circe and was now in charge of the Southern Pacific operations. He'd made his home in Sydney for a year now, and she missed him. They had had an on and off relationship for years now. They weren't exclusive, and they'd each had other serious relationships. Ginny knew she didn't love Grant in a passionate way. She loved him as a very close friend and they'd certainly had some passionate moments, but there was something that was just not quite there between them. She knew Grant didn't love her in that way either, otherwise he wouldn't keep proposing to other women.

He was engaged now to a photographer for the magazine in Sydney. She really liked Fiona, much better than Katherine. She was a wonderful photographer, very down to earth and really did seem to understand her working relationship with Grant. She never seemed to get jealous, but Ginny wasn't exactly sure how much Grant told her about his trips to Circe headquarters. Well, they hadn't done anything since Grant had gotten engaged, so there really wasn't much to tell, but he did spend the night that one trip just before he asked Fiona to marry him. Of course she hadn't known Grant was preparing to propose to Fiona. Had she known that, she would not have seduced him. She guessed that Grant was seeking a confirmation that he really should ask Fiona.

Ginny shook her head, trying to banish the risqué thoughts she was having about Grant at the moment. "Concentrate, Weasley," she mumbled, as she finished the last of her noodles.

"Grant would hate this article," Ginny thought.

"Too flowery - never gets to the point," he would say firmly.

Ginny thought it was evocative and thought the words painted such a vivid picture that she was tempted to get out her pastels and draw up an illustration right then. Except she glanced at the clock and noticed it was now three A.M. She was nearly done with the article now, so she made a mental note to try the illustration in the morning.

"Meanwhile, back to work," she muttered.

As she read more of the article, her mind played with the images, including a sunset, which put her in mind of a particular sunset she recalled, looking out these very windows.

It was the night she'd moved in. Her brothers and Grant had helped her move. They'd all had pizza and beer and made their excuses to keep from having to help her unpack, all except for Grant. Grant had stayed to help her magic her furniture about the room in order to get it just right. She'd move the sofa, while he handled the end tables. They were taking a break after the fifth rearrangement that didn't quite work. Grant was standing by the window, making up funny stories of the people he saw below on the street.

"There's a lady who walks her gerbil on a leash…she left it home tonight, but you can tell…then that guy there…he knits tea cozies, see the yarn marks on his hands…."

And so on, until she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe…and suddenly she noticed him. Not just Grant commenting on funny people, but him as an entirely separate entity she'd never seen before. Black hair that needed a trim, broad shoulders under the red sweatshirt. Narrow hips and long legs, muscular beneath loose jeans. More memories flowed from there…snapshots, sensations, smells, tastes, touches, kisses, caresses, lips, fingertips.

Ginny could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "Damn," she cursed, followed by additional curses about her lack of concentration. "Leave him alone, Ginny."

"Right, leave him alone." The problem was, while Ginny knew Grant was not her Grand Passion, and she was not his, they were not reluctant to indulge in a petite passion now and then. Ginny finished the article and the food. She tucked the article and her fantasies about Grant back into her briefcase and climbed the stairs to her bedroom in the loft.