What Happens in the Changing Room...

Tonks restlessly kicked the confining sheet away from her body. She was hot and cranky and immensely tired of being cooped up in the house. She was especially weary of the tension building between her mother and her husband in the past two weeks. It didn't help her hormones were raging so that she felt out of control and cursed herself. She'd asked Remus to come back, but had yet to forgive him for leaving. So he slept in the spare bedroom in deference to her wishes. She mentally kicked herself for that. Tonks glared at the window she couldn't open - correction - wasn't allowed to open lest a stray Death Eater swoop in a kidnap her - and cast yet another Cooling charm on the stifling bedroom. She sighed and swung her feet heavily to the floor as her body demanded the loo once more. The miracle of life someone had called it. Miracle my arse, the Auror snorted to herself. It'll be a bloody miracle if I manage the next three and a half months without strangling someone with my bare hands. She soundly closed the bathroom door, not caring if she woke the rest of the house. Sweat pooled between her breasts and trickled down under the Weird Sisters t-shirt she wore, stretched tightly over her swollen abdomen. Immediate needs seen to, Tonks plucked a facecloth from a shelf and soaked it in cold water, then cast Freezing charm after Freezing charm until it fairly crackled in her hand. She passed it over her face and neck, dipping it briefly under the faded t-shirt.

It wasn't just the sense of feeling overheated in the small house that made her so edgy. Nor was it her mother's need to silently judge Remus, although that didn't help matters much. She missed her father. Christmas didn't quite feel the same without him there singing carols as he puttered around the house, putting up innumerable paper chains, piling crackers on every horizontal surface, decorating their tree with so many different colors and styles of ornaments it bordered on garish. But she loved it. The tree was more sedate this year. Tasteful, her mother would say. But Andromeda had, in a fit of sentimentality, strung strand after strand of fairy lights on the branches. The way Ted had always done.

Tonks eased the bathroom door open, and peered into the corridor. Her parents' bedroom door was closed, but a light shone under the crack of the spare bedroom. Remus would still be awake, plotting something for the Order, hunched over the small wireless, trying to find a Potterwatch broadcast, reading, or writing in his journal. She marveled that he could still function on as little sleep as he got. She tiptoed down the stairs, only stubbing her toes once and found the plug for the fairy lights and shoved it into an outlet. Using the arm of the sofa for support, she eased down to the floor and Summoned a small throw pillow from an overstuffed armchair and dropped it just under the tree. She carefully maneuvered her body until she was on her back, head cushioned by the throw pillow, knees bent, feet planted on the rug. Tonks stared into the twinkling lights until her eyes blurred.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of it was.

xxxxxx

Remus threaded a hand through his hair as he glanced at the gently ticking alarm clock. Tonks ought to have returned to her bedroom by now. She'd been downstairs for over an hour. He marked his place with an old quill and set the book aside, extinguishing the lamp with a careless wave of his wand. He opened the door and slid across the corridor, peeking into Tonks' bedroom. The unoccupied bed was wildly rumpled and mussed and an underlying tang melted on his tongue as he scented the heavy, musky air. It was a scent he recognized and his body twitched in response. Softly glowing light tickled at the perimeter of his bare feet and he followed it down the stairs, coming to a most abrupt stop at the bottom of the stairs with a very undignified squeak. He wasn't so addlepated by the rather fetching display to mistake her pose for anything other than its physical comfort to her. However, Remus was a man after all, and the sight of her sprawled on the floor was enough to send the blood racing from his head. A handbreadth of taut skin was visible between the hem of the t-shirt and the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Inasmuch as he had mixed feelings about the two of them bringing a baby into such an uncertain world, part of him wanted to strut with illogical pride at the sight of the rolling swell of their child. The other part still struggled to accept the ramifications of his marriage and the uncertainty with which he faced becoming a father.

Remus had nearly made up his mind to return to his cold, solitary bed when he heard a soft sniffle waft from under the tree. He propelled himself across the room, nearly skidding to a stop on his knees. Her tears always tore at his heart and this time was no different. He reached up to brush them away from her face. 'Dora...'

Tonks' gaze shifted from the tree overhead to Remus, crouched next to her. His hand was warm against the cool wetness of her cheek. Her hips shifted involuntarily while one hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing the palm of his hand to her lips. Without pausing to think, her tongue flicked over the callused skin, darting between his fingers before she gave him a thorough demonstration of what she could do to other areas of his body.

'Nymphadora...' he breathed. Was it a warning or a supplication? She didn't care. And she suspected he didn't either. She pulled her heels closer to her body and her thighs splayed apart. Remus' entire body convulsed in a shudder. 'Oh, dear God... Dora...'

Tonks reversed their positions with a rapidity that belied her self-effacing comments about her stealth abilities and was surprising for one nearly six months gone with child. She straddled his hips, hands clamped around his wrists effectively pinning him to the floor. Remus tugged experimentally at her grip. It wasn't so strong that he couldn't twist his wrists from her grasp, but forceful enough to give him a sensation of helplessness. She let go long enough to tug the t-shirt over her head and discard it by tossing it across the sitting room. Remus made a strangled sort of noise in the back of his throat. She had always been pleasantly rounded where a woman should be, but now she was a series of lush curves. He cupped her breasts in his hands, entranced. They were noticeably heavier than they had been four months ago. He lifted his head, mouth opened slightly, intending to do more than merely look at her. He wanted to lick and suckle the expanse of flesh on display. 'Did I say you could touch me?' Tonks asked archly.

'Wha...?' Remus stilled, palms rasping over the pebbled nipples.

Tonks leaned into the caress for a moment, before she resolutely pulled his hands away and pinned them back over his head. Remus could nearly see the heat waves radiating from her skin. Her breasts and abdomen pressed into his torso. She was so warm, but inexplicable gooseflesh rippled over her arms and shoulders. 'Did I say you could touch me?' she asked again, in whiplash of a whisper.

'N-n-n-noooo,' Remus stammered. He heard a faint creak overhead. 'Dora, your mother...' he protested weakly.

'I don't recall telling you to speak.' Tonks paused. 'Do you?'

Remus opened his mouth to say "no", but mutely shook his head. What is she playing at?

Satisfied, Tonks sat up. Her hips rotated in a slow circle, a smirk spreading over her face at Remus' unsuccessful attempt at biting back a moan. She carefully rearranged her position and hooked her fingers into the waistband of the thin cotton pajama bottoms and slid them to her ankles, then kicked them off. Smugly, she noted how Remus' fingers had begun to dig into the nap of the rug, but he kept his arms spread away from his body. And hers. She flicked his worn t-shirt. 'Take it off.' Remus obeyed, realization dawning as she raked her nails over his chest. It wasn't so much sex she was after.

She wanted revenge.

He didn't blame her, really. He would have done the same, had their positions been reversed, and she'd left him at a vulnerable juncture of their lives. He warily watched her as he dropped the shirt to the side and slowly lowered his arms.

Tonks leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of Remus' head. Her lips grazed over his then trailed down his neck, seeking out the sensitive spot just above his collarbone. She smiled in triumph as he gasped when she gave him a hard, sucking kiss at the base of his neck. His pulse jumped under her lips and Tonks growled softly, moving lower. She glanced up from her ministrations and chuckled. His lips moved, but no sound came from his mouth. His eyes were wide open, fixed on a blown-glass ornament dangling over his head. She propped her head on his stomach, fingers revisiting the places she'd so recently explored with her mouth, watching him for several moments, immensely gratified Auror training included leaning to lip-read.

Oh my God... Please... Over and over again.

Tonks smirked once more, and nuzzled the whorl of tawny hair that dove from his navel. She was rewarded with a muffled curse. Clucking in disapproval, she drew back slightly. Remus lifted his head and attempted to scowl at her, but the effect was quite spoilt by the desperate longing lurking in his eyes. In return, she merely smiled at him. But it wasn't a smile Remus had ever seen grace her features. She was toying with him. He pressed his trembling hands to the rug, resuming his silent prayer. Presently, he felt her mouth begin its leisurely journey toward the straining front of his pajamas. She bypassed it completely, and Remus groaned in dismay. He worried his lower lip between his teeth, fervently wishing she would just have her way with him and end this torture, delightful as it was. Delightful torture... he mused with the part of his brain that could form coherent thought. A fine example of an oxymoron...

Tonks contemplated the faded plaid flannel under her hands and gathered the fabric in her hands and pulled. Remus lifted his hips and she gently worked them over his hips and down his legs throwing them aside. She sat back on her heels, studying her husband. He was no longer looking at the ornament, but at her, in obvious lust, breath whistling through his partially-open mouth. The back of one hand glided up the inside of one leg. His mouth closed with a soft snap and his breathing grew more labored and her hand closed around him. Was she wrong to subject him to this? Perhaps. It wasn't physical release she sought, although it was one of her goals. She wanted him to admit he needed her, just as much as she needed him. She wanted him to feel every ache she had during those long weeks when he was gone.

Her body screamed for the release she had denied it while she teased Remus. Again, moving much more quickly than he could believe, Tonks straddled Remus' hips. She shook with the effort it took to not have him in a blind frenzy, using one hand for balance and the other to guide him into her. Her nails dug into the flesh above his jutting hipbones. It didn't take long. For her. As for Remus, she drove him to the brink again and again, highlighted by the nearly soundless moans and soft breathing that was no less harsh for it. Each time he came close to climaxing, she withdrew a little and stilled, her hands and lips dancing over his face and body.

Tonks' lips hovered over his. A sheen of sweat on both their faces glinted in the glow from the fairy lights. She dipped her head ever so slightly to soothe his swollen mouth in a gesture that was heartbreakingly tender. His lower lip stung where he'd bitten it earlier.

'Nymphadora,' he implored, mouth moving silently against hers. 'Please...'

Tonks pushed up, her hands slipping slightly against his damp chest. 'Please what?' She could feel the fine tremors that ran through his body.

'I need...' Remus swallowed heavily, licking dry lips. 'I need to touch you. To talk to you.' He watched her carefully. She made no move to stop his speech. Encouraged, he continued, one hand drifting up to rest on the swell of her hip, then splay over the curve of their child between them. The other hand tangled in her hair and brought her mouth back to his. 'I need... You. The both of you,' he added, stroking her swollen abdomen. 'I need something worth fighting to preserve.' He closed his eyes.

Tonks shuddered and began to move, slowly, almost delicately, blue eyes softening and blurring. They began to close in sheer bliss when Remus hissed in her ear, 'Look at me.' Startled, her eyes flew open, and she met the stormy grey gaze, as he began to match her movements, both hands gripping her hips. He didn't quicken the pace she'd set or make an attempt to guide her motion, but it was no longer a contest of wills, rather a meeting of equals. Remus muffled the shout of his release against her neck, then held Tonks as hers rippled through her body, more than a little amused. Neither one of them had ever raised their voice above a whisper the entire time. His hand swept her hair from her face, and he met her heavy-lidded eyes. 'I am sorry,' he murmured.

Tonks nodded and slowly, languorously, slid to the floor next to him. 'So am I.'

xxxxxx

A/N: I had intended Changing Room to be a one-shot, but given my proclivity for allowing the characters of the HP-verse to do inappropriate things in inappropriate places, I was bound to think of a few other situations. *blush*

I wrote this on Christmas Eve, but due to the server issues am only able to post it now. It's belated, but... *koff* Merry Christmas.