Honeymooners

The ham was browning (or, well, greening) and she began to divide the comical looking breakfast onto two plates. She reached for the fridge and pulled out a carton or orange juice, filling two large glasses, before setting the beverage back. She began searching for a clean pair of forks when a voice jolted her out of her focused task-doing. She turned and saw Max standing in the hallway, dressed more comfortably than he usually was. Because of their crazy schedules, Jack usually saw Max right before, during, or exactly after work. It was nice to seem him in clothes as relaxed as he typically was.

She smiled, picking up a plate and tilting it towards him so he could see it. "Green eggs and ham, a la Jack." She smirked and set the plates at the table, pulling one of the chairs out for him before returning for the glasses. "Slept great. It seems an exhausting game or seven of Candyland can make for a very sound sleep." She set the glasses out by the plates and gathered up the cutlery and the napkins, setting them out too.

She dropped into her own chair and speared her ham, taking a hearty bite. Swallowing, she looked up at Max. "And you? I hope your humiliating defeat didn't prevent you from sleeping well." And there was that long-absent classic Dyllan smirk.

* MUCH TIME LAPSE. SUCH CHANGE. VERY DIFFERENT. *

They ate breakfast, made lunches, and left their separate ways for work. The day passed quickly with meetings and a trip to muggle London to meet with officials. From eight to four life was completely normal. News of the small wedding the day before had not been widespread through the gossip network yet and Max was only congratulated on his marriage three times during the course of the day. Each one of those times he had jumped slightly in his seat as his cheeks flushed with an unexpected blush of color. Once he heard someone call for Jack and he spun around only to find they were addressing one of the Unspeakables.

At the end of his day he packed up like any other before swinging by to pick Sunny up from day care and run on several errands around town. The pair made it back to Layabout with their arms full of groceries and set about making dinner for the four Dyllan-Morrison's. Max did most of the cooking but Sunny supervised his work, making sure to instruct him whenever his efforts were deemed unsatisfactory. Charlie emerged from the greenhouse and Jack returned home at about the same time at which point Sunny delighted in instructing them to set the table and pour people drinks.

Soon the food was served (to both humans and animals) and the group fell into their familiar patten of chatter. The conversations, insults, and laughter was exactly the same now as it had been when they were just roommates. The comfort of the scene made Max quickly forget that he was seated across from Mrs. Maximus Morrison and it was only the comments from both of the children that kept the thought fresh in his mind. Eventually Charlie shifted the conversation in a direction that both Jack and Max seemed to have been avoiding.

"So.. I get your room now, right?"

Max looked uncomfortably between Jack and Charlie, unsure of how to respond. "I, um.." He hadn't given the idea much thought, especially since they had so artfully avoided the issue the night before. Max turned to Jack for any sort of answer before speaking timidly. "You can, um, I mean - we hadn't really.. Jack? If she wants." Max's cheeks had taken on a distinct blush and he shifted awkwardly around in his seat. Marriage was easier when it was just the two of you.

And, before she knew it, it was off to business. She took Sunny to daycare in the morning, went to Quidditch practice, then off to work in the Ministry. The work itself made up for everything else about it. The Ministry was full of pawns and peons, and she felt as though no one was a friend. It was so different from the last time she worked there where she had her team, headed up by Teddy who could almost be called a friend, and when she knew every Auror by name and could joke and laugh with them. She remembered riding an intern into Zoe Gould's office when the intern had snarked her one quip too many. Working for the Ministry used to be fun.

Now, she worked. She investigated Blood. She searched for information on the marriage law. She tossed insults Fred's way when he strolled by her office. No one asked about her marriage because she was an Unspeakable. Hardly anyone even knew she was actually working in the Ministry, and whether or not they were even allowed to talk to her. So she went relatively undisturbed. The hours ticked by and she soon realized she had overstayed past when she was due home.

She packed away her work for the day, picking the folders she would be going over later in the evening and slipping them into her knapsack. A quick stroll through the Ministry and a turn on her heel and she was walking through the village she called home. She liked the walk and often took it to clear her head of the troubles of work. Jack was the sort to carry everything with her, eveywhere she went. The knapsack of her back, full of snacks, pranks, and work, was definitive proof of that. Even at home, she thought of James Blood and marriage laws and the Order of the Phoenix and friends and loyalties and poltergeists and... well, Jack was always mulling things over.

But on that daily walk through her village, she never let herself become to steeped in thought. She knew it was dangerous, so she tried to keep her head above those waters. And on this walk, she found herself relatively at ease. It wasn't until she reached the gate that she had an unsettling thought.

She was married to the man inside the house.

She faltered, but forced herself inside. She had to prove to herself that there would be no change. And, of course, when she entered, everything was the same as it always was. She was immediately put to work by Sunny, and she made comments under her breath for only Charlie to hear, grinning all the while. The family worked easily together and soon they were settling down to eat the meal prepared for them, wholly preoccupied by the ease of routine to have to deal with any new challenges presented.

That's when Charlie piped in. Jack could not be irked - was this not EXACTLY what she had done at the dinner party with Fred and Claire? Reminded everyone of the elephant in the room. Her eyes immediately met Max's, and then looked away just as quickly. Neither had said it, but she was pretty sure they were avoiding that whole 'consummate the marriage and make babies' part of the law. So the need for sharing a room had not really come up.

He stuttered through and, as much as Jack wanted to keep things the same, she knew sacrifices would have to be made. And, there was the possibility (maybe even the likelihood) that the Ministry would have ways of checking the status of their marriage. Separate rooms was a dead giveaway. Max looked to her again and her eyes rose from her plate, making her decision though she knew would regret it later when the consequences hit.

"I mean, I can't leave my room, because the animals are used to sleeping in there but... I mean... it's a nice sized room." Jack looked at Max, shrugging. Trying everything she could to make this whole ordeal as nonchalant as possible. "I mean... Charlie's room's weirdly temporary, and she's going to be here awhile..." Another hefty shrug.

So... Max was really moving in now.

Jack helped wash dishes after dinner, forcing the day to seem as normal as possible. Twenty four hours before, Gabby had been dragging the girls off to give Max and Jack their space, leaving Max and Jack to stare at each other, at an utter loss as to how to proceed. It seemed the majority of their marriage would pan out this way.

She reviewed her work, changed into her pajamas, ate some ice cream, watched some television. Tonight, it felt a lot less like a relaxation exercise and more like an exercise in stalling. But, soon enough, she was in her bedroom, and then in her bathroom, brushing her teeth. She heard footsteps in her room. Max was moving about. Ho, boy.

Max had never given too much thought to what he wore to bed. Out of a drawer full of options he always tended to go for the choice best suited for the temperature, whether it be just his boxers or a fleece onesie (he owned only one and no one in this house had ever, or would ever, see him wear it). Tonight however, Max realized that he was actually having a hard time deciding what to wear to sleep. He heard Jack in her their bathroom brushing her teeth but all he could do was stare at his pile of newly moved clothes and try to choose between blue and green.

It was only when he heard the faucet turn on that he grabbed the blue shirt and hurriedly pulled it over his head, not wanting to be caught half naked when Jack returned to the room. Max felt an odd sense of relief that it was still chilly enough to justify his plaid pajama bottoms. In the summer he traditionally just wore boxers but that would be a whole separate problem to deal with when the time came.

Max had brushed his teeth already in his room while a couple spells worked to pack up his belongings and the Hufflepuff found himself at the point where he was more or less ready for bed. His mind suddenly began to wander to other household projects that needed completing. Was it really to late to go back downstairs and fix the gutters? After a moment of seriously considering it, Max decided that the pitch black sky was not inviting him to work outside and he was forced to take a single nervous step towards Jack's bed.

He was starting to regret her insistence for staying in her room. What was so bad about his? It had a balcony and it's own study underneath. It was familiar and comforting and didn't smell like.. well, Jack. Max remembered the first day he had arrived at Layabout. Jack had already claimed her room and the study for her own while making it perfectly clear that he (and later Sunny and Charlie) were not to trespass in any of her designated spaces. He certainly felt like he was trespassing now, standing there in his pajamas and slippers.

Another step. The water had turned off in the bathroom and Max was deeply aware of how uncomfortable and awkward he looked standing there, frozen with uncertainty, in the middle of her room. It would have been better to get in the bed or sit in the chair. Instead Max just lunged back towards his full trunks of clothes and began to randomly shuffle his socks around, pretending to be actively engaged in organizing them. He had changed his mind.. marriage wasn't fun, it was confusing.

Her hair was brushed, her pajamas were on, and her excuses were running out. She had inspecting her face in the bathroom mirror – scratching a tooth, picking a mark, pulling on her eyelids – and there was nothing more to be done. She had glanced around the bathroom, hoping there was something to be cleaned, but it seemed she had the forethought earlier in the week to clean it. She managed to waste four and a half seconds stuffing an old shirt and bra into her hamper, but there was not much else for her to do. Now, as she brushed her teeth just a little more, she came to the realization that any more time spent would be wholly particular. She turned off the faucet, rinsed her mouth, and put away her toothbrush.

It was time to go to bed.

She was having trouble. The moment she left the bathroom, she had to face the awkwardness of sharing a bed with another human being. In her entire lifetime, she had only done it once, and it had not been a good circumstance – exhausted and unable to apparate drunk, she and Vito had collapsed in his room, being careful to stay on opposite sides of the bed. Now, her bed was not small, but it was definitely not as large as Vito’s huge bed. And she knew she had a tendency to toss and turn in her sleep. The idea of kicking Max in her sleep would have been funny if there had not been more awkward scenarios to be imagined.

Though, in all honesty, she was not worried about what it would be like when she was asleep. She was more worried for the confrontation of being awake, choosing sides, slipping under the covers, attempting at small talk, muttering a pathetic goodnight.

Despite all these concerns, she walked out of the bathroom and glanced around. There was Max, frantically looking through his own trunks, though she could not decipher what for. There seemed to be no rhyme nor reason to what he picked up or put away. Jack cleared her throat. “There’s room in the closet. And in the dresser. We can move your dresser in tomorrow, and widen the closet with a spell if you need more space.” Yes. Good job, Jack. Focus on a practical problem. That was easy. You handled the like a champ.

You… you wimp.

Jack turned off the main light, leaving only the light of the two bedside lamps. She walked over to the side of the bed she supposed was now hers – she had never considered the sides of her bed beyond the side she started or ended on.  She flung the covers back carelessly and stared at the spot of the bed that was now hers, now the spot next to Maximus Morrison’s spot. Why was everything suddenly different, and complicated?! Nothing had changed. Not really.

She looked up, looking to Max. “This is weird,” she stated. She reached up and awkwardly scratched her temple, ticking her head. “It’s weird but… we can just agree to not think it’s weird, and it’ll stop… stop being weird, right?” Okay. This wasn’t working out as well as she had hoped. She shrugged. “It’s just a place where we sleep.”

Charlie was still in her room for tonight but Max knew that if he didn't make the move now he would always find excuses and never pluck up the courage to actually spend that first night. Jack was talking about closets and he stopped shuffling his socks around for long enough to nod along. Upon agreeing to share a room he had been so worried about the company that he hadn't even considered the practical problems of moving his entire room of possessions into hers.

Max had just begun to run over everything he was going to have to move in his head when the room when suddenly much darker and his attention was drawn towards the uncomfortably illuminated bed. Jack began to speak again and Max's hand moved to rub the back of his neck. It shouldn't have, but somehow what Jack said made sense to the nervous man and after a moment he nodded and took a step forward into the light of the tiny lamps.

They now stood directly across from each other, facing off across the queen sized bed. It almost felt like a game of chicken as they stared at the empty, open sheets and he nodded again, more slowly this time. One.. two.. three.. In an act of bravery that would make any Gryffindor proud, Max suddenly sat down on the bed, rapidly slipped off his slippers, and brought his bare toes up and under the covers.

He sat in his 90 degree angle, as frozen as if he had been stunned. Slowly he turned towards Jack and spoke in the calmest voice he could manage. "Not weird."

Slowly Max lowered himself towards the backboard, conscious of every inch of the bed he touched. He almost reached for the book that normally sat at his bedside before realizing that it hadn't made the move from his old room and he was now forced to go immediately to sleep or stay up to talk - both prospects were terrifying. "It's totally fine." Max added, not sure if he was meant to be encouraging his wife or himself. "Normal." The word echoed his post wedding toast and Max turned to glance at Jack again.

Jack had not expected Max to acquiesce so quickly. She had expected that the claims she made, claims she was not yet a believer of herself, would hang limply between them in the air, and the stand off would continue. She thought she would be the first to risk crossing that line and stepping into the first shared portion of marriage. Besides the wedding, they had done nothing that friends would not do – this was the game changer. Sharing a bed was a marked difference from casual friendship. This was a basic confession that they were both aware of their changed status.

Change. That fickle bastard.

Max surprised her. Jack found that she was being surprised more and more by the man she had considered to be a constant force of consistency and normalcy. That first surprise had come when she had arrived home to see him flying a broomstick in that yard. Jack had not thought of that day in a long time, because it felt so insignificant. It had just been another day, except that it had been one of those tiny stepping stones towards friendship. Only now that they had reached a marker on the path could she see how such a day contributed to the whole picture.

He was in bed now and Jack felt the sudden, strange sensation to laugh. He was so rigid, so restrained – she had thought she was the uptight one. Certainly, Max had his awkward moments, but she thought she was more like the one to sit upright in bed while Max hid under the bed, or in the closet, or in the bathroom until she fell asleep. Seeing him take the brave, if now awkward plunge, reminded Jack that there was always something beneath the surface that you could not always count on.

She used to be spontaneous. Fun. A jokester. And it was a pity that Max had never been formally introduced to that side of her.

She took a step towards the bed, and then stopped. She kept her face straight, as though this were a very difficult task that required all of her focus and concentration. Another step, a noticeable swallow. She reached out for the bed.

At the moment her fingertips touched the bed, Jack jumped and let out a strangled yelp, as though the bed had burned her. She grinned, unable to help herself. “Relieving the tension,” she explained. She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and then slipped under the covers, now that all semblance of somberness was gone from her. She pushed herself down, head dropping onto her pillow. She glanced up at Max. “If you steal the covers, you may get pushed off.”

Yes. Jokes, jokes, jokes. That was the way to go.