A Life Half Lived

CHAPTER 5

Snape woke early the next morning, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. He sat up in the bed and looked around the room. It was obviously a room rarely used, the furnishings and colours bland. He remembered where he was and found himself wondering what Morgan's room was like.

What she looked like when she woke up.

He quenched those thoughts and rose, deciding that a shower was definitely in order.

He found the bathroom easily enough and was soon relaxing in a hot shower. Morgan, who wandered in, obviously in search of her own shower, disturbed his pleasant reverie.

She looked confused - her eyes widening at the man in the shower. The remembrance returned and she looked at him again, her lips curving into a slight smile.

"Don't be long," she said, and left the bathroom.

Outside, Morgan swore softly to herself, and her mind wandered back to the sight of the man in the shower. Her mouth went dry and she raised a hand to her throat. She smiled again and looked down at her naked body and giggled, remembering the look on his face. Definitely an interesting way to start the morning.

Inside the bathroom, Snape wrenched the hot water tap off and finished his shower. How dare she wander round like that! He took several deep breaths, and found himself remembering the sight of her standing naked before him.

He wondered if her skin was as silky as it looked, and he felt himself harden as he thought of her breasts. They were wonderful, full and high, the nipples temptingly rosy. He ached to touch them, ached to touch her. Ached to kiss her.

He had to keep control.

And he now knew what she looked like when she first got up in the morning. Wonderful. He wanted her badly.

Breakfast was strained. Each person was aware of the other, each trying to keep control, each desiring.

"What is the plan for today?" asked Snape, his voice clipped.

"Nothing at all until the gallery opening this evening," said Morgan. "But we must spend the day firming up our cover." Oh my god, she thought, what have I just said?

"In what way?" Thank god. He didn't seem to notice. She swallowed.

"Deciding when and where we supposedly met. What your interest in Hawden will be. Making sure that we know enough about each other to play lovers successfully. For instance, do you drink tea or coffee for preference? How do you prefer it? Is there anything in particular you hate?"

Snape looked at her. Did she have no idea how gorgeous she was sitting there with the sun turning her hair to a flaming aura? "Tea, black, no sugar. Coffee, white, 2 sugars. Red wine," he said. "Is there anything else?"

Morgan chuckled. She felt that Severus Snape had just teased her for the first time. And had enjoyed it.

"I'm just getting started."

The rest of the day was busy, but at the end of it they had been surprised at just how much they had in common. They found that they shared taste in music and literature, although Snape found that Morgan was more widely read than he, and had gladly taken up her invitation to go through her bookshelves.

They had also decided that they had met whilst on a walking holiday in the mountains. Morgan had been apologetic about that. "It's terribly "Goodbye Mr Chips" and all that, but it would have given us the time to actually talk when we met," she had said.

He had been surprised when at four o'clock, she had brought the session to an end declaring she had to get ready.

"But we don't have to be there until half seven," he had said.

"I know - and that barely gives me enough time as it is," she stated firmly. "I have to have a shower, wash and style my hair, do my nails and makeup and then get dressed."

Snape shook his head, amused. "You look fine to me," he said, the words slipping out before he could catch them, but the appreciation in his eyes apparent to her.

He was surprised by the way her eyes glowed at the compliment, they way a slight blush stained her cheeks. "Thank you," she said simply.

In the end, she was running behind, although in the brief glimpses he had had of her during the afternoon, he fully appreciated her preparations. He spent most of the afternoon reading, chuckling over a book recommendation of hers - "The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy," and finding it quirky enough to suit his sense of humour.

He looked at the other titles in the series (and laughed again when he read it described as "a trilogy in five parts") and made a note to buy them for himself.

His preparations were quicker than hers, and the only delay he had was to remind himself that there was no need to hide behind the camouflage of lank hair. He looked at himself in the mirror, for the first time in years seeing his face without it's usual curtain.

It had been a long time, and he wasn't sure he had the strength to make the change permanent.

He went back into the sitting room, taking up his reading (now onto the second book in the series), and looked up as Morgan entered.

Snape's mouth went dry as he looked at her.

Morgan had not really thought about the dress she wore, after all it was just one she had in her wardrobe.

Snape, however, wondered if she had forgotten something. Like the rest of it.

It was short, coming to mid-thigh, and sparkly, with a low-cut round neckline and no sleeves. She wore sheer black stockings, and high stilettos. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked at her again, at the flame of curls cascading over one shoulder, reaching almost to her waist at the front.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" he asked, his mouth going dry again.

Morgan looked down at herself, her arms opening. She frowned, and then smiled. "Yes! Thanks for reminding me," she said, and turned to the stools at the kitchen island.

Snape nearly fell off the couch, and he again felt his desire rising. The dress had no back, the sides coming down to the top of her backside. He found himself wondering if he went over and looked down, just how much of her backside he would see.

Morgan picked up the light scarf from the stools and draped it around her arms. At least it partially covered her, thought Snape.

She looked at him critically. "Not too shabby, Severus. And I am sorry to keep you waiting. I had to re-do my nails after I smudged one," and she held out one of her hands.

Her elegant nails had been painted a deep rich crimson, giving the impression of being dipped in blood. He found the whole thing strangely sensual, and wondered what those nails would feel like trailed over his skin.

"How are we getting there?" he managed to get out.

"Taxi. We can hail a cab downstairs. I hate calling for a mini-cab."

She picked up her handbag, a frivolous spangled affair that looked too small to actually hold anything, and the keys to the flat, and they left. She held out the keys to him. "Can you look after these? I'm afraid that they won't fit in my purse too well. And they'll probably be safer in one of your pockets."

He took them, and put them in one of the pockets inside his jacket, and they caught the lift to the ground.

Fortunately, they had no trouble getting a cab, and they were whisked away towards Covent Garden, where the gallery was.

"Now remember," said Morgan softly, "we're only a recent item so keep close, and it won't hurt to be a bit possessive. There will be both Wizards and Muggles there tonight, so follow my lead when speaking to them. To Muggles, I'll say that you are a Chemistry Professor. Wizards, however, will be impressed at your being Hogwarts Potions Master."

"Will there be anybody there that I know?"

"Not unless Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy turn up, but I doubt they will be there. Since You-Know-Who's return, he's been avoiding functions where there are Muggles. Pity though. Narcissa loves art, and she loves parties. Apart from that, there shouldn't be. And if there is, let me know so that I don't get any unpleasant surprises, and you take the lead when discussing us."

He nodded, but was disturbed at the way she had mentioned the Malfoy's. How well did she know them?

They arrived at the Gallery, the lights blazing through the large picture windows, and the inside packed with people.

They entered, and a dark-haired woman pounced on Morgan. "Morgan, darling, so good to see you," she trilled.

"Clarissa," said Morgan, and the two women "air-kissed", "it's lovely to see you as well."

"And this is?"

"Professor Severus Snape. A friend of mine."

"Not The Professor Snape? From Hogwarts?"

Morgan nodded. The Witch, Clarissa, held out her hand. "So honoured, Professor, to have you join us. I had no idea you were an art lover."

Snape bowed over her hand. "Morgan insisted I come with her. She wanted her friends to meet me," he said, the implications of his words obvious.

Clarissa looked at Morgan, who took the opportunity to lean back against Snape who put one hand on her shoulder. "Morgan, you are a sly one," said the witch and turned to greet the new arrivals.

Morgan grabbed Snape's hand and led him through the crowd. "Well done, Severus," she said with satisfaction, and snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Clarissa will ensure that the social world becomes fully aware of our circumstances. Now all we need to do tonight is to reinforce that." She turned and gazed up at him; to an outsider, there was nothing in her expression but adoration. Their conversation seeming to be that between two lovers. Her voice, however, was fierce. "Time to mingle, Severus. Grab a drink and come on."

He took his own glass of champagne, and offered her his arm, feeling complete when she slipped her hand through it.

Then he learned how to mingle.

At the end of an hour, he thought that what he wanted most in the world was somewhere to sit down and a cold drink of water, and he marvelled at her stamina. Especially in those shoes.

The only bright light in the evening was that he knew nobody. He had, however, been surprised that his own name and reputation were so well known. He scowled. Too well known for his liking.

Then he realised Morgan had moved away, and looked around for her.

He didn't have far to look. She was being monopolised by a tall man with curly brown hair and a goatee. He could see from this distance that she was tense. Picking up another two glasses of champagne, he wandered over.

"Another drink, darling?" And he handed her the glass. She looked at him, and in her eyes he was surprised to see gratitude, and a tiny amount of fear. He felt himself tense.

"Thank you Severus. Let me introduce you to Alexander Hawden. We've been having an absolutely fascinating chat. He is very keen on potions."

So this was their prey. Snape was inclined to be contemptuous of this man, but remembered what was in the briefing on him.

He was dangerous. And the one person that they had to convince beyond all doubt.

He held out his hand to the other man. "Severus Snape," he said, as they shook hands. Then, deliberately, slowly, he put his arm around Morgan, allowing his hand to slide from the nape of her neck to the top of her skirt, then moving it around, his hand slipping inside the dress, and coming to rest, obviously to any observer, on her stomach.

He saw the other man watch his action, and saw that his gaze was caught by the outline of his hand under Morgan's dress. Hawden looked up, and both of them could see the lust in his eyes, followed swiftly by a calculating glance at both of them. They could almost see the chain of thought, to see him wondering if Snape would be willing to work with him. Wondering just what else the couple in front of him would be willing to do with him.

He was dangerous, all right. Very, very dangerous.

Morgan had felt relief when Severus had come up, and accepted the drink gratefully, draining half of it quickly. To her surprise, she felt a flush of desire rise as she felt his hand run down her back, and into the front of her dress. Her breathing quickened and she wanted his hand to move lower, to the part of her that was begging for his touch. She had no idea that her thoughts were reflected in her eyes and the line of her body.

Neither Morgan nor Snape had no idea that their body language was convincing Hawden of the fact of their cover - something he had been dubious about during the introduction - and the talk he had heard during the evening.

Hawden continued to talk to them both, the conversation inconsequential, but establishing that they had things in common. Things that would want him to have more contact with them.

The lust still flared in his eyes, and Morgan felt inexplicably safer when Snape's arm drew her closer to him.

She relaxed against his body, and felt his desire for her flare. And saw Hawden's lust increase.

She shivered. This was probably the most dangerous assignment she had ever been on.

And she didn't know what she feared most - Hawden or her own desire for Severus Snape.