A Life Half Lived

Snape stalked along behind Morgan Winter. The woman was definitely the most irritating person he had ever met, and if he could just get his hormones under control he would be much happier.

He scowled; surely wearing a cushion cover as a skirt was considered illegal in the Muggle world? He hoped, and didn't hope, that she wouldn't have to bend over.

She stopped at one of the security doors and looked at him. "Stop scowling, Prof....erm. Severus," she said severely. "This is none of my doing and we are both going to have to live with it. With a little bit of luck, this won't take too long and we will never have to see each other again."

Unknowingly, both Morgan and Snape wore matching frowns. Both were feeling uncomfortable about her remark.

Snape was scowling again by the time they reached her car. "We have to travel in that thing?" he asked

"You have the option of walking," she snapped, "and it's a bit far to do that. Besides, I can't leave the car here. Now get in, put the seatbelt on, and shut up."

He gingerly climbed in, it was only the second time he had ever travelled in a car, and hoped it was less hair-raising than his first experience.

As the Jag purred through London, Severus relaxed into the deep leather seats. It wasn't bad, and he could feel himself beginning to enjoy this mode of travel.

All of a sudden, Morgan pulled into a side alley and a man in a doorman's uniform greeted them.

"Mrs Winter," he said, "so nice to see you after all this time"

"Hello George," she said, climbing out of the car and handing him the keys. She looked down at Snape still sitting in the front seat. "We're here and you can't stay there, because it's for your benefit that we are here," she said cryptically, making him wonder exactly what the hell she was talking about.

Slowly, Snape got out of the car. What torture did she have in mind for him?

An hour later, he knew. And he had the distinct feeling that beneath the surface, she was laughing at him.

He'd been poked and prodded, his hair washed and trimmed. Morgan had stopped them from cutting too much off; saying she actually liked him with it long, and had surprised herself in doing so. She had intended to turn him into the ultra-fashionable type of man she was usually seen with.

The man with her (he thought that she'd called him Piers?) had argued, but she had her way, and now it was pulled back in a que. He scowled again. He hadn't worn his hair this way for years.

He felt uncomfortable. His lank hair had become somewhat of a camouflage mechanism, and he started to feel as if his soul was being bared to the world.

Things only got worse after the hair. He had been taken into a small room and ordered to strip. On asking why, Piers had told him they needed measurements, and that Mrs Winter had ordered them to outfit him from the skin out.

He had actually blushed at the measuring process- and had been uncomfortable at the way Piers' hands seemed to linger on his body - quite intentionally.

"Err, Morgan," he called, moving away from Piers' wandering hands, "can you come here a second?" completely forgetting just how little he was wearing and not actually caring. The most important thing was that he was not left alone with Piers of the Wandering Hands.

Morgan walked towards the room, wondering what the problem was. Surely he was not arguing about the clothes. Piers had said that his previous dress, black trousers and coat over a white shirt, suited him. If only it was in decent fabric and actually fitted.

She stepped into the fitting room and saw Severus Snape naked except for his (she had to admit, rather skimpy) underwear pressed up against the mirror as Piers was saying he had to double check his inner leg measurements.

Morgan's mouth went dry as she was presented with a clear view of the man in front of her. His body was almost as nice as that of Sirius! She had the insane urge to grab the tape measure from Piers and do some measuring of her own!

Now was not, however, the time for play, and she recognised the genuine note of terror in Snape's voice. Her lips twitched as she saw the humour in the situation.

"Piers," she said gently, "hands off. He's mine."

Piers turned around. "No harm in trying, surely, Mrs Winter," he said sulkily, "after all, one never knows."

"No, Piers. One never does. But try anything like that on something of mine again, and I assure you that you will not have to worry about knowing."

Piers pouted. It had been worth a try, he had thought that Mrs Winter and this man were not involved, but obviously he was wrong. After all, he would have had to be blind to have missed the man's reaction to her when she walked into the room!

"Clothing for the Professor, Piers. Now," commanded Morgan, opening the door and firmly ushering him out.

Piers looked sulky as he was ejected from the room. He went over to the clothes stand, selecting several pairs of trousers, coats and shirts. He couldn't help wondering what was going on inside, and hoped that the pair inside would keep things marginally decent. Sighing regretfully, he opened the door, clothes in hand.

He was surprised to find the two in the same positions they had been before he left, but noticed also, that both were breathing heavily.

"Here we are," he said gaily, and watched with interest as the man before him dressed.

Morgan took a breath as Piers entered. If he put some clothes, on she would be able to see him as Snape. Not the hard muscled man in front of her. Idly she wondered what he was like as a lover- and started to imagine those long elegant fingers on her body.

Oh god. I have to stop this she thought. Regretfully, she watched him dress and surprised herself by discovering that, dressed in clothing that actually fitted him, she found him even more desirable than he had previously been.

This operation might be even more enjoyable than she had initially thought.