Cora laughed brightly when his cheeks turned pink and he got all serious.  She had been, of course, teasing him, but he took his job so seriously and she knew it would get a rise out of him.  She’d said similar things enough to Oliver when they were growing up. It was easy to give him a hard time, mostly because Tristan was too young to understand for a long time and it was way less fun to bother a baby than your older brother.

She, at least, had the advantage of being the only girl – and super cute, if she was going to interject her own thoughts into it.  “I know,” she cooed, pursing her lips afterward.  He was just too cute. 

Stealing the time away in the slightly too warm kitchen was definitely worth it.  “If that doesn’t work for you,” she tapped her fingers thoughtfully, “maybe you can tell them the story of how we met,” she grinned.  “I’m sure Daddy would love to hear about that…” she recalled, quite fondly, the fitting session. 

It wasn’t like a normal thing that Cora ended up dating her customers.  It was just a happy surprise that time.  Shifting herself against the counter, Cora repositioned her hands on Thomas’ shoulders so she could push herself up to sitting on the cool marble.  She was happy when he walked forward so she could wrap her arms around his neck. 

“You know I only look nice,” she chastised playfully, allowing him to kiss her again.  Her hands found their way into the hair on the back of his head and Cora dug the heel of her wedge into the crook of his knee – just to ensure he tipped forward into her.  She could have continued kissing him for much longer, but Thomas pulled away – red faced and breathing hard (one of her favorite looks) and commented about checking the oven.

Cora shook her head, hair sticking to the side of her neck – so maybe it was a little warm in there.  “I set the timer,” she came up with an excuse, straight away, leaning in to kiss his neck, “don’t worry about it,” she murmured while nuzzling the shell of his ear with her nose, pausing to plant a kiss underneath and sort of behind the same one.  “No one misses us,” she twisted her hand in his sweater and tugged him back into another kiss, “okay?”

Thomas groaned and shook his head. No one wanted to hear about their daughter feeling up some customer, and then that customer asking them on a date, as if their hand juggling was so on par that it deemed dinner. “I’d much prefer telling about the follow up. In Paris. Where you sparkled like all the lights at night.” The heat in his cheeks wasn’t going to leave just because he willed it to.

He wasn’t sure where to put his hands when she got up on the counter. One moment they were on the cool top, the next they were resting on her hips, then her thighs, and... there. They stayed there.

Thomas decided that answering her was giving in, and he didn’t want to do that. Not when he gave in so easily on so many other things. Her fingers in his hair distracted him from what else she might be doing, and as he fell further against her, he let out a surprise noise into her mouth, hands moving further up her thighs (and taking some of her dress with him).

It definitely had gotten warmer. His hair was already a mess, he could feel it. Feeling it and caring about it were two different things at that moment. Thomas tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes, fingers gripping her upper thighs as a shiver ran down his back. He nodded to her unnecessary question, his own lips moving from her lips to her neckline. “Okay.” He planted one after another as he trailed up the side of her neck to her ear, biting lightly on to the lobe before tugging at it.

“It’s hot...” He moved his lips further down her jawline, forcing her head back as hands moved fully under her dress, holding her hips. Thomas would blame his lack of... everything on the heat.

Cora was used to getting her way. That much was apparent as Thomas was like putty.  He had tried to suggest they move, but that seemed like such a poor idea in comparison.  She loved the way his hands felt on her legs and she lifted her seat so that the tight hem of the dress wouldn’t be quite so restrictive.  Licking her lips, Cora tilted her head at his nudge and breathed deeply as he peppered her jaw line with kisses. 

Her breaths were much more shallow as she rolled her hips, her dress inching higher with every movement.  Rolling her head back forward, she caught his lips again and bit just a hair too hard on the bottom one before soothing it with her tongue. 

She liked when his lips were just a little more swollen.  She figured no one else could tell, but she knew – it was also much more subtle than a hickey.  That would have been hilarious, but perhaps not for the first time they were meeting.  “It is hot in here,” she laughed huskily, her hands sliding down the front of his sweater.   

Cora was making quick work of his belt, nimble fingers used to any and all of his buckles by now (since she’d picked many of them now), and it was just a rush.  She could feel her heart thrumming in her chest, just knowing that they could get caught… Cora felt sixteen and terrible.  Perhaps it was the fact that she breathed, “You are hot,” against his lips before kissing him again. 

Usually, being this close to him she could smell the woods and books and sort of citrus smell that came from the cologne she bought him… but that was weird.  Her hands stilled and her head stilled, lips still against his.  Did he smell – was that smoke?  Sniffing again, she didn’t think he had smoked a cigarette today… and that was different.

Was it hazy in the room too?  She thought it had been her eyes adjusting to being open again, but there seemed to be a… fog?  Blinking, Cora cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the rasp, “Does something seem off to you?”

She always caught him off guard with her occasional rough play. He hissed out in pain, but quieted down as she continued, trying not to let the throb get to him. There was only one time where she drew blood and he acted like a little baby about it, pulling away and pouting while pressing a napkin to it gingerly. He couldn’t help it if his nipples were sensitive.

Eyes followed her hands as they moved down his front, nodding slowly. They moved up her dress to her chest, then further up to her face, grinning like a boy who found just what he was looking for. Thomas stood still while she worked on his belt, kneading her thighs with fingers as he waited in anticipation. He let out a moan against her lips before deepening it, pressing up against her suddenly. She had been teasing him all night while they got ready. While he could put up with a lot of it, this was different.

Thomas blinked and fumbled for her lips before her words slipped through. “What?” He pulled back and then he smelled it. He sniffed and glanced around, eyes widening as he saw the smoke coming from the oven. “Cora! What- how long- what!” He fumbled with his trousers and belt, stumbling over to it as the buckle jingled.

Once the buckle was done, he opened the front of the oven. A large cloud followed out, along with the smell of burnt food. Thomas fumbled for a dish towel, waving the cloud away before leaning over to turn it off. He cursed under his breath, followed quickly by "Ah bon..." He sighed and put a hand to his forehead. “Cora, I...” Thomas looked over his shoulder at her, shrugging helplessly.

What were they going to have for dinner now? How had this gone horribly wrong?

Everything happened all of a sudden.  Moments before she was about to make this Christmas party completely worth leaving the flat to see her family… and now Thomas’ eyes went wide and he stumbled back from her.  Suddenly, it felt much more obscene to have her dress hiked up to her hips on her grandmother’s counter top.  Cora drew her knees together and slid off the counter, the heels of her wedges hit the tiled floor. 

Apparently her arm decided to take some pans with her and they clattered to the floor so loudly that Cora heard her grandmother’s dog yelp from the other room.  Her eyes scanned frantically determining that it was, indeed, just pans, and then heard a voice call out. 

Fix your dress! Fix your dress! she inwardly screamed at herself.  It would be in this moment that her fingers failed to work and she was shaking. There was a lot going on and she couldn’t – there was a snag and she pulled and all of a sudden…

“Thomas!” she hissed.  The silk of her stocking had a huge run down the front.  Her heart stopped. 

Thomas wouldn’t know the spell –she certainly couldn’t teach him it within the time it took someone to get here… Her mind raced before her attention was taken from flapping her hands at the silk, as though that might seam it back together, to flapping her hands at the oven when the cloud of smoke came out. 

A normal person, like Thomas, swore and freaked out.  A normal person might have even frozen.  Cora, however, shrieked with laughter.  “Oh my God!” she announced, looking around for something else to help fan the smoke. 

It was just the perfect moment.. like clockwork, that her mother would appear in the doorway with wide eyes and a slack jaw.  “Coralie?” her voice warbled, “Thomas?” 

Cora turned quickly, their expression of surprise was definitely passed from mother to daughter and Cora shifted her attention upward, to her mother’s face.  “Just a… little setback, mum,” she chuckled nervously, “I um… I fiddled with the timer… or I thought I did.”

She licked her lips and smiled weakly.  The expression on Mrs. Malkin’s face was not a happy one.  Cora instantly felt fifteen again.  Except this time she tore her stockings and she managed to hide her boyfriend in the closet… there was surprisingly less to explain in that situaton than this one.  “There’s great curry down the street…” 

The clatter of pans made Thomas jump, half turning around to stare at her as if she’d lost her mind. This was not a time to be working on her drum skills! He continued to fumble with his belt, frowning. He went pale as he heard the voice, and his hands worked quicker to try and put himself back together, shaking just slightly as he did.

His name did not roll off her tongue sweetly, and he had too many other things to focus on. He thought he said ‘Wait a minute,’ but it was just in his head. There were a lot of things in his head that were running into each other, knocking each other down, jumbling up into a mess.

Her laughter didn’t do his nerves any good. Eyes widened before he looked at her, mouth agape as eyebrows cocked in horrified disbelief. The other voice sidetracked him, however, and caused him to jump about a foot in the air. Luckily the excitement he’d been building up while Coralie was on the counter was long gone, and he began flapping the towel around more frantically.

Thomas began coughing, choosing to pull his wand out at that moment, muttering a couple of charms that began to vent the smoky air out a window he opened with a flick of the wand. Simple things he could do easily and with little thought. Hands fully opened the oven and his wand once again went to work, pulling the meal out of the oven. Once it was sat down on top of the stove, he tsk’d to himself, finally setting the towel down on the counter.

“I don’t think this could’ve-” Thomas trailed off as he realized, upon turning around, that her mother was still standing there. His mouth, open, paused in mid sentence, finally closing as he stood up. “That goose is cooked.” Idioms were sometimes hard to understand in a different language, but Thomas thought he'd embodied that one fairly easily. He tried a smile before pocketing the wand and dusting invisible dust off himself. “I wouldn’t mind going out for the curry, if someone needs to go.”

Cora clapped her hands over her mouth when Thomas commented about whatever it had been in the oven.  Cora’s mom’s face was not quite as amused as Cora’s though.  Whatever they were preparing, Cora had absolutely ruined. 

The way that her mum looked between the two of them… oh that was not a look Cora had seen in a while.  It was reminiscent of Easter dinner 2006.  That had not been good.  At least this time she didn’t have hickeys down the side of her neck… nervously, Cora’s hand slipped downward and she clamped her hand over her neck, just in case. 

She was fairly sure she didn’t have any bites there… she would have noticed earlier and things hadn’t really gotten that far before the smoke and everything.  “I’m so sorry, Mum,” Cora tried to be emphatic, since she was truly sorry – she assumed someone had worked on whatever was in that tray – now it looked like a burnt piece of rubber in a black, bubbling pool.  Thomas was really trying to make the best of a situation. 

Cora’s mum, however, went from that watery sort of expression that usually meant a weak disposition, to one of suspicion and disapproval.  Cora could see it, the subtle shift of her jaw, the way her eyes narrowed.  “That’s probably wise, Thomas.” 

It was like icicles had formed in the room.  Or maybe it was the breeze from the open window.  Cora wrapped her arms around her midsection and bit her lip.  Her mum looked her over.  ”I’ll get your cloaks and bag for you, dear,”, her mum started to walk away, but stopped, peering back at them over the rims of her glasses, ”Do clean yourselves up.”

Cora looked over at Thomas. 

She blinked a couple of times. 

That was not what she expected. 

Mum was displeased.  Cora could hear the rabble of muffled noise that indicated the… incident was being explained.  “I think we’re being sent on an errand,” she giggled (nervous habit, really), and finally looked at him all the way.  His cheeks were red, hair was a mess and clothes definitely rumpled.  “And I think we look ridiculous.” 

Thomas was fairly oblivious to Cora’s mum’s facial expressions, glancing to the poor dinner that dogs would wrestle for. He almost offered to try and chip away the burnt parts, to get to the good stuff that was probably perfectly tender, but when he looked up from it again, he realized that no, he should find a hole to hide in instead.

The look she gave... he had never been the recipient of such... whatever that was. It was usually his siblings getting it while he fiddled with something in the corner. “I already showered, though...” The look Cora gave him was all he needed to see before he shut his mouth and looked at his feet. Which allowed him to see his shirt all untucked and rumpled. Which caused him to laugh suddenly, quietly, before he put a hand over his mouth and glanced to Cora out of the corner of his eyes.

Errands were fine, if it meant they could get out and grab some fresh air. Especially after all of that. The grin slipped out too easily as he stuffed his shirt back in his trousers, shrugging. “I think you look beautiful.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before pushing in the last of his shirt, straightening his sweater out. “That better?” Arms were outstretched as he cocked his head for her enjoyment.

Thomas ran fingers through his hair to try and tame it down, accepting that his cheeks would be rosy no matter what. He’d never been so caught before, and it was kind of exhilarating. The adrenaline rushing through him was... invigorating. Mixed with the wine, and he was... relaxed more than he would’ve expected.

When he saw the unopened bottle of wine, he felt like it called out to him. Out of his pocket came the wand and within a matter of a couple flicks and swish, the cork was out. He topped both of their glasses before handing her hers. He spared one last glance to the ruined dinner. “To what could’ve been.” A clink of the glass and he was taking a gulp. “I think my sister would’ve done that on purpose just to get a curry for supper.”

Cora’s stomach flip-flopped when Thomas didn’t get it.  That was so cute, but so inappropriate.  While she found it entirely adorable and couldn’t help but smile fondly, her mum did not share her enthusiasm for her boyfriend’s lack of understanding.   She tried to give him a warning look, but… it came too late. 

At least, once her mum was gone, it started to sink in that they hadn’t burned the house down and on the scale of things that could have happened, it was like… maybe fifth on the list of the worst.  Alright, that was pretty high… but it was what it was.  She wasn’t mad, after all.  With everything going on, she was actually pretty entertained. 

If it was burn the dinner or talk about peas all night, she was always going to pick burning dinner.  She leaned her cheek into his kiss and wrinkled her nose at him.  “Good,” she teased and pressed her lips to his cheek in return before appraising his outfit fixes.  He was still rumpled.

She smiled fondly at him and shook her head.  “Here,” she walked over and started fussing, fixing his shirt and sweater – readjusting the collar… all the little tweaks he wouldn’t get to see himself… “Now you’re extra perfect,” she smoothed her hands over his sweater again, for good measure. Cora was just the type who liked touch.  She was so used to touching everything and feeling it to make sure it was right… adjusting it and playing with different textures to achieve desired effects. 

Honestly, based on what she was doing at the shop she figured whatever she was doing was successful.  No one complained yet!  Except Gran, but only because Cora wasn’t doing as much of the shop keeping… It wasn’t her fault she had to stretch her creative muscle and not worry so much about folding the school robes! 

And on top of everything, he was uncorking another bottle of wine.  The glasses they had abandoned earlier were newly filled with alcohol and they were handed out.  Her mother was still talking in the other room – Cora could tell the tone of her voice – she laughed and clicked their glasses together.  “I liked your sister,” Cora beamed, taking a very large sip of wine. 

“Speaking of: will I get to see your lovely family this Christmas?” she asked with a little smirk over the top of her glass, “I’d love to ruin another dinner – or defile another countertop.”  She winked and sipped at her wine. “I bet we would ruin a very lovely dinner at your parents’ – side dishes and all,” she explained, “Or would the house elves tattle on us…?” her voice trailed off as she raised her eyebrows with a sly look on her face.   

Thomas knew he was lucky to have a girlfriend who knew how to keep him straight. As she fixed his shirt, he couldn’t help but grin as he looked her over. Even if he had dressed himself earlier, she was still the one who helped smooth it all over. “Thank you, mademoiselle.” Her touch sent little zings through him. He loved it, but also tried to keep it low key. No one needed to see his excitement.

He smiled down into his glass before taking another gulp. His sister was easy to like, on some occasions, and very difficult to get along with on others. He knew his brothers would agree, though Thomas did feel as if he got along easiest with his sister. He nearly choked on his wine at her next question.

The wine bubbled up in his glass as he nearly inhaled it. Setting it down, an eyebrow cocked at her as he pursed his lips in consideration. His face went an immediate bright red as he realized what she was scheming up. Thomas stuttered over himself, not able to look her in the eyes at that moment. Finally he burst out laughing and shook his head. “I enjoy a home cooked meal!”

He didn’t realize how loud he’d gotten. The idea of house elves tattling had him in stitches. One hand held on to the cabinet while the other braced his side; it was starting to hurt how hard he was laughing. “We - we are -” He kept laughing; it felt as if he couldn’t catch enough breath to keep talking. “Invi - ted!” Thomas twisted slightly, his other hand holding his other side; it was slight agony to laugh so hard.

If only he’d realized what he’d poured them. Especially before nearly downing his entire wine glass.

“De rien!” Cora replied sweetly, practicing one of the only phrases that could evade her abysmal accent.  She could sort of listen to him and get some things… more than before, definitely, but she wasn’t fluent.  And despite the fact that she could intellectually recall things and even think of a response…

She could only imagine if she actually tried to speak French to his family members they’d recoil in disgust (she had not been brave enough to make an idiot of herself at the wedding).  Thomas had finally sort of gotten over outwardly laughing at her… but at least the short words weren’t so bad!   

Leaning up against him, Cora leaned her head onto his shoulder and giggled.  Or she thought it was going to be a giggle.  She was really laughing.  It registered that although she found it funny, it didn’t seem that funny.  Pulling on his sweater a little, Cora shook her head.  That was ridiculous. 

“Too bad,” she said between fits, “we aren’t,” she dipped her head again, “getting that,” finally a good breath, “tonight” 

They’d be eating a curry from down the road and she was sure her parents would be so happy about it.  There was a little piece of Cora that loved that. 

Good thing too because her mother appeared in the doorway with everything they’d need.  Cora could not stop giggling.  “Ready!” she squeaked, doubling over at the sound of her voice. 

”Oh you two didn’t…?!” her mother dropped everything in an unceremonious pile (Cora heard a crack – her pocket mirror was probably broken) and walked forward.  Cora anticipated she’d come at them but her mum bypassed them completely, picking up the wine bottle. 

“What?” Cora giggled. 

Her mother shook her head and turned the label toward them, “You’re in no condition to go anywhere!”  Cora eyed the label and started to laugh harder.  It was like whine[1] - probably made by the same people, but it made the drinker laugh… Which, of course, made Cora laugh more. 

1.	url= http://absitomen.com/lexicon/Whine]whine[/url]

Thomas really did love when she tried to speak French. Even if she didn’t get the accent down. Even if she mispronounced more words than a dyslexic Beauxbatons transfer. All of it made her more adorable to him. Even if he made fun of it, in the long run. Because, really, who wouldn’t laugh at that? Again, adorable.

When she began to giggle and laugh with him, it only made his laughter louder, harder, more painful. Thomas wanted to wince and stop, but he couldn’t! That only served to make him laugh harder... which was a complete contradiction, really. And that in turn made him laugh so hard, no sound came out. Tears started to form at the corner of his eyes.

They definitely weren’t getting a home cooked meal tonight. Just thinking about it made him laugh harder. Thomas wheezed as he tried to take a deep breath between his laughing fits, an uncontrollably loud giggle slipping out. He shook his head and raised a shaking hand to wipe away the tears that started to slip out, nearly poking himself in the eye.

Through a misty view, he saw someone had rejoined them in the kitchen. His free hand had braced himself against the counter as he doubled over in laughter - the older female voice was going to make him pee himself. Thomas really didn’t want to make that sort of impression on them. “I-” He laughed and crossed his legs, resting his forehead on the counter top. His knuckles had turned white from the force he was gripping on to the cabinet.

“Make it stop!” His laugh cackled and overtook him, and he could barely keep himself up, his shoulders shook so from the good laugh the wine had given them. This stuff was just the worst; he wouldn’t wish this much laughter on anyone.

 Cora couldn’t have imagined a funnier situation to be in.  She would have thought her little nieces and nephew would be awkward or her grandmother would say something ridiculous.  She had even anticipated some language inconsistency problems through the evening… or maybe a little grab under the table just to throw him off a little… she’d considered it when she was getting ready.

But, laughing hysterically in the kitchen and being unable to stop after destroying dinner?  That had never crossed her mind.  It was really the piece de resistance of this evening. 

This holiday would not soon be forgotten.  She would have cared more (maybe) if she wasn’t so focused on the fact that her sides were starting to ache.  Her face felt hot and she didn’t even care about her ripped stocking or the burnt dinner.  Or the fact that her mom was staring at them like they were both insane.  Maybe they were.  She’d always marched to the beat of her own drum, so to speak, when it came to immediate family, anyway. 

“I can’t!” Cora barked and wrapped her arms around her middle while she pressed her back against some cabinets, leaning her head back.  There were tears streaming down her face and her cheeks hurt.  Her mom had said something[1] Whatever she was saying, it was probably dramatic and Cora shook her head, eyes still closed and body still jerking with laughter. 

“It’s not a big deal, mum!” she howled and then groaned, rolling her head to the other side before sliding down the counter and landing with an inglorious plop. 

“Oh you would think so,” her mother huffed from the doorway and leaned back out of the doorway.  “Oliver! Your joke ruined dinner!” she hollered.  So much for the appearance of civil gentility. 

Cora’s chin dipped onto her chest and she continued to convulse with laughter.  “Maybe,” she gasped for air, “we should go?” 

1.	“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Cora!  This is so typical. I’m not even surprised at this point!”