I know that you can't hear me, but baby I need you to save me tonight

"Thank God," Keiran groaned into the kiss, nearly wanting to laugh at his relief.

It wasn't exactly what he had been going for, the rushed and desperate need to be together. He had been hoping for something charming and forever memorable. But, Keiran supposed, he would undoubtedly remember that day. That evening. That decision to ignore their own rules. He also was of the impression that she was pleased when he only called her Melissa once, the other times always ending up as "Missie."

He fell too quickly, complaining audibly with his grumbles. He shifted regardless, tilting so he faced her in part, tucking her into his side. "No," he agreed. "Not bad. But on the plus side, we've got more time now." Keiran's fingers combed through the hair behind her ear, gaze dancing over her features. "Who knows? Maybe we'll be even better for it."

His laugh was followed by a series of barely-there kisses across her face, never reaching her lips. "You know," he added with a grin, "we'll have to be more careful when you visit the school. We don't want anyone getting the wrong idea..."

Suddenly, it dawned on him exactly what Millie had implied with her question. Keiran pulled back just far enough to stare at her in surprise, more awake than he had been a moment before. "Baby, you never...?" It didn't make sense. Just looking at her, Keiran knew she hadn't been ignored over the course of those years. There was literally no chance. He hadn't bothered, hardly looked, never noticed others. He was more amazed than even pleased about the idea that she hadn't either.

It wasn't like he had just held out hope. Keiran hadn't dared. No, he had just decided that if he didn't have her, he didn't want anyone. He could have the twins as some reminder, and doing so only served to ensure that he couldn't want anyone who hadn't brought about the two insane and wonderful kids who were settled in their rooms down the hall.

And how strange it was to have all four of them in one home. It probably felt like more of one for the twins than it had before. They had never seen their parents get along before, and now they were already promised the traumatic experiences of knowing what exactly their parents were up to in less than a day. It was probably a little disconcerting, regardless of the end result.

"So d'you want to start with weekend dates? We could go out and pick a place to stay over each time. Or if the twins don't want to move we can just stay at yours. Though, really, I think the rooms in mine would be just as convenient for... These purposes."

The loss of a lover, of a person upon whom your happiness rested, would never be a pain that Melissa would wish on anyone. However, the return of the lover lost was a happiness which filled her up, which made her feel as though her skin had sunshine beneath it. To be in the arms of the man she had married once more was a dizzying prospect, even more so given what they had just shared. It was the best feeling, she decided. It was up there with seeing the twins walk and talk. It was like knowing for certain that everything was going to be fine – because she did so. Now, with age and maturity on their side, it would be alright. It had to be. There was just no other way for it.

Snuggling against him, Millie began to run her fingers idly across his hip, breathing in his scent greedily, just in case he was called away on Monday. She wanted to pollute her senses with him until when he left all she could smell was him in her hair and in her skin, until she could feel his hands on her, hear his words in her ears and see him around every turn. She had him in his entirety now. She had reconquered his love, reconquered his body. It was as though there had just been a hiatus. It was as though the years intervening these meetings had merely been a necessary hiatus – one that had a higher purpose.

“More adventurous,” Millie mumbled against him, planting kisses across his chest. “I have plenty of ideas.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at him as his lips peppered their way across her forehead and cheeks. No matter how she moved her head he wouldn’t reach for her mouth, thwarting her every time despite her attempts to get close to him. She continued to laugh, especially given the way he wanted to spare the general public from recognising that not only they were back together but fully up to mischief that they really should’ve been a little bit too old for. It was only when he pulled back from her a little bit, fixing her with a quizzical look she mirrored that her giggles stilled. Then, however, she felt her cheeks colour and warm.

“Oh, I, um,” she fought to find her words. She smiled a little, beginning to draw circles into his chest with her index finger “I dated for a while after. I mean, I couldn’t bear to be alone so I tried every little thing to find someone who would fit the hole that you left but it didn’t work. It just made me hate myself even more than I already did so there was no way I was going to sleep with whoever I was dating.” She leaned up, taking in his face. “All I wanted, all I want, is you.”

Millie kissed him then, slowly, sensually, trying out the gradual burn that they’d wanted for one another, that they’d let slide for the sake of long-lost lust. She set herself back down against him after they broke away, drawing the covers up closer over his torso so he didn’t get chilled by the night’s air. Once the covers were set around them she looked up, reaching down as she listened to him, going in search of his hand, looping their fingers together when she found it.

“I’d love to date you, Mr Hayes,” she smirked. “You had better impress me though. I won’t settle for no effort,” she winked at him, reaching up to kiss his nose. “Though,” she began, propping herself up with her head in her hand, “are you asking me to move in with you, too? You should think about what you’re saying – I just might. And besides, what are these purposes you seem to think you’re going to be embarking on and need to be embarked upon in the safety of your home? Hmmm? I want to hear it.”

Keiran hated the chill that her words brought, hated the idea that Millie had ever had it in her to hate herself. Even he had never done so. Yet, he had felt tossed aside and even abandoned to the extent that she didn't seem to want to make things work. But clearly both had been wrong about her in the end.

"As sweet as that is, Mills, you didn't need to be so hard on yourself." Looking down at her hand, Keiran pondered their combined past, his fingers brushing across hers. "I really don't think we were in a good place, no matter what had happened. In the end, something would have caused it to get mixed up and confused. Maybe the Ministry had the right idea, but just... a lot earlier than necessary."

A smile graced his features, turned on her in a show of being good-natured. He meant it all in a positive way, rather than the old Keiran who would have said it all with a dark tone and furrowed brow, as had been his MO. Now it was more sparing, that look, but it really only showed up around Theodore.

He turned his head so his cheek rested on the pillow as he looked at her, fingers toying with her ring when they found it. He hesitated only slightly at her words, but decided to just take it easy. He had been uptight and unreasonably stiff in the past and it clearly hadn't gone well. "Well, I was suggesting we take it all in stride. We did say a day at a time, after all. Whether or not you're there full time or just on the weekends... I mean, whatever works. I thought you'd want to keep the flat, so we could go back and forth weekends and then deal with weekdays when they come around. I'm not used to living with anyone anymore, but obviously I'm open to change."

His jaw clenched, anxiety at the idea of taking it on fully getting the better of him. He wasn't totally against it or anything. Just... ill-prepared. It wasn't like he had woken up that morning expecting to move in with Millie or the other way around. For the time being, he needed the flat in London. But he didn't want to completely turn her down and ruin it all. Keiran wasn't under any illusions - he would take whatever she wanted and try to run with it. So if she pushed for it again, he would go along.

The opportunity to change the topic had been given, and Keiran latched on without question. "Well!" He started, hand releasing Millie's to trail down to her leg. He pulled gently, so it came around his middle again. "I thought it was fairly obvious. Especially since I'm not the sort to list it all off. But if you must know, there are a lot of rooms that you've never been properly introduced to. Much like my old office, the furniture would be delighted to meet you. If I thought we'd get away with it, I'd say my new one would, too. But I never said those purposes could only be done in one of our flats or the school. It'll be a good while before I don't try to convince you to attempt them... well, everywhere. Though, really, it won't be my fault."

Nothing would change the way the months after moving out had panned. In reflection, from the way she’d been she considered it a miracle she’d not collapsed into something more drastic than finding her solace at the bottom of a bottle of whisky and her life in tobacco. She had hated herself, regardless of whether he felt she was being hard on herself or not. It had been a burden too much for her. Nothing had ever been more impractical than her keeping the children. Yet, in the same breath, you could argue with equal fervour that it was what kept her grounded, having them, and in keeping them near it gave her a goal, a realistic outcome and it snuffed out the lazy streak she had because she knew she had to provide for them. She couldn’t sit and wait for someone to pick her up and make her life begin again. Keiran certainly hadn’t showed any inkling of coming back. No, she had to do it herself and their children were as much a testament to that as the home they now laid in and Millie didn’t want to give that up. Not yet, anyway.

“I can’t leave Dublin right now,” she confessed thoughtfully, twirling his chest hair this way and that with the tips of her fingers. “It is my home and, aside from my flaws, it’s the only thing in the world that’s ever been just mine. I built this and what’s in this apartment is all I have so I’m not ready, myself, or honestly willing to upheave everything I know based on one night. If we’re being perfectly realistic, that’s all it is at the moment: it is one night and tomorrow and you can’t base changes like that on… well, that. So what a pair we’ll make, hm? You who can’t live with anyone and me who can’t tell pyrite from gold. Weekends,” she scoffed playfully. “This is like the twenties I never had.”

If there was one thing that she was going to be careful about then it was him. In posing a question like that, while she’d been vaguely serious she’d also been eager to see what he’d do with it. She hadn’t known what to expect and certainly wasn’t entirely opposed to the deflected solution she’d been given. What she didn’t want to do above all is fall into a world that was all too familiar to the one that he had walked away from the last time. Not only that but they led separate lives. What they didn’t need to do and couldn’t really do was start encroaching on that bringing along both figurative and literal baggage with which they couldn’t ultimately deal. She didn’t want him to walk away again. If that meant, outside of sex, keeping him at arm’s length and seeing what he would go for, deciding from that knowledge what she wanted from herself, then that was what it would have to be. That was the slow part. It meant trusting him again. Not just him her, with their relationship, his feelings and all the rest of it. She needed to trust him again. Otherwise, she was boarding the Titanic.

Millie was drawn from her thoughts when Keiran’s discourse marker hit her ears. She looked at him, her eyebrows rising as she felt him move her leg, latching it over him. She bit her lip a little as their hips moved together and she narrowed her eyes playfully, wondering whether he was trying to kill her or ruin her bed some more. Millie, deciding to take control of the situation, tipped herself over so she was hovering over him, her legs either side of his body, her hands planted on the bed. Her hair spilled down to the side like a curtain of blonde curls and she leaned down, taking his lips with hers.

“I don’t give a toss about the furniture, Keiran,” she swore. “You can have me anywhere.”

Sunshine rose early for Dubliners. It was a rousing agent that stirred Melissa Finnigan from her slumber just before her alarm rang, allowing her to throw her arm out and bang the top of the clock. She turned, then, tucking herself back into the covers and back into the arms of the person beside her. She closed her eyes tight and snuggled in, her ear catching the soft thrum of a heart and the gentle, regular breath that moved the stray locks on top of her head every few moments.

Hold on.

One eye opened, then the other. Millie pulled away a little, unhooking her arm to rub at her eyes. As they popped into focus, sleep wandering away from her, she found herself looking up at her ex-husband. Moreover, she found herself absolutely stark bollock naked in bed, her bed, with her ex-husband. If it hadn’t been for the fact that at that moment of realisation the prior night’s events washed over her then Millie would have perhaps screamed, quite loudly in fact, and chucked him out. As it was, she remembered. By Merlin, did she remember.

“Blimey,” she mumbled to herself, her lips quirking up at the sides. It was Sunday. The archetypal Sunday of theirs demanded laziness to the letter. But, this wasn’t a Sunday of theirs. Sunday had long since stopped being about her relationship to Keiran. It had to be. No, just like every other day, Sunday had its purposes too.

In training for a marathon, you’ve first got to ask yourself why you’d ever want to run one for a start. You must be bonkers. Well, there was certainly no disputing that Millie was bonkers. She pounded out her regular route, taking her up around the park, a few laps being done of that before she danced off through the high street, wishing a good morning to the shop keepers setting up and she then took herself back down, past Flanagan’s where a few drunks still lingered and, oddly, had the grace about them to wish her a merry morning and once she’d passed there she took her sprint, darting down the road, turning the corner and proceeding to let herself into the building, nigh fly up the staircase and she made it back to the apartment door a little after eight thirty that morning, having done her route in just under fifty minutes.

Upon opening the front door once more, Millie found that the house was still and quiet. Lucius was awake, drinking from his bowl. Narcissa, however, was still curled up on the sofa, blissfully unaware of the world revolving and going on around her. Millie smiled at them, leaning down to scratch Lucius behind the ears, before taking a moment to tidy up the living room. She put her shoes away, took her back and hung it up on the hook by the door and folded the throw, setting it on the back of the sofa. There were then a handful of menial bits and bobs she straightened up before she wandered into the kitchen area, opening the fridge to see what Elliot had left behind from the day before.

Prior to food, Millie decided to make up some tea. Finding out Liam and Kelly’s mugs from the dish washer she took her own and a random one from the cupboard for Keiran and put them all out onto the side, sorting out the tea for them all before holding her hand out behind her, summoning her wand back to her grasp. Once the wood snapped into her fingers she flicked it at the cups and slowly made her way back down to her bedroom. She stopped first in Kelly’s room, opening it quietly, sneaking in to set her cup, clad with a warming charm, down on her site table. The same went for Liam who, like the day before, had fallen asleep with a book on his face and his glasses lost somewhere underneath. Millie removed both after putting his tea down, pressing a kiss to his hair after tucking the covers back around him and setting his things to the side. Then, it was back to her room where she found Keiran exactly where she’d left him barring a bit of movement.

Having picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet and the post from downstairs, Millie set it down on the side table with their cups of tea before finding out some clothes for her to wear. It was an old, holey university t-shirt, grey, with the logo declaring it to be the Trinity College University of Dublin. She’d really become part of the flavour of the city over the years. After pulling on a pair of soft, bed shorts, abandoning her running gear into the hamper to be washed, she settled back on the bed, applying a warming charm to Keiran’s cup before setting down her wand and picking up her own. She then brought the post and the newspaper up to her lap and slowly began to open her letters and read the back of the paper between sips of her coffee, content there to wait until the first movements of the children began. Then she’d think about finding out the jar of Nutella and heating up the croissants that she’d bought on the way back. That would set them up for the day, at least. Liam would probably head out around noon for football practise. Kelly would probably content herself with reading out on the balcony. That therefore left Millie to her own devices, only with the added company of Keiran.

Maybe it would be one of those Sundays of old in the end anyway.

It was lucky for one Melissa Hayes Finnigan that Keiran had not woken to find her missing. Regardless of any claims of morning runs offered to him the night before, it’s unlikely that he would have remembered enough to keep from bolting. The shame itself would have been more than he could have handled. Especially for someone like Keiran who was so typically calm these days. Sarcasm had become his usual go-to, instead of yelling or storming out or even the silent treatment.

Honestly, though, if he had woken to find her gone, Keiran could have kept away. Could have done the silent thing. Could have gone to visit someone in order to avoid the twins using the floo to harass him. Probably Oliver, since most of Keiran’s friends and family were oblivious to his friendship with the author. Sure, he would feel bad about intruding on Alice, but at least their puppy would be pleased to see him. Then again, the new dog was very like the old in that he clung to Oliver. Keiran wondered what that said about the man, that everyone should essentially take to him – even Darren did. Keiran was not that same sort of person, obviously, because he woke with a chill coming over him.

He had apparently shifted during Millie’s time out, because with his need to play the role of pillow no longer relevant, he had turned onto his side. It was, indeed, his preferred way to sleep. It had returned to him during their years apart, and so he woke and scrunched his eyes together before opening the one not pressed into his pillow. At first he was very confused, staring at a leg that was obviously not his. That would have made no sense. Keiran shook his head to wake his brain properly, lifting onto his elbow to be on level with Millie’s elbow.

“Morning,” he offered sleepily, peering over her arm at the Prophet. The back headline that stared at him spoke of the upcoming gala at the Ministry. Keiran was lucky that Theodore hadn’t pushed for him to go, truly, though most everyone he knew was intended to be there.

Keiran found himself glad that he hadn’t decided to surprise her by reaching over and pulling her by the waist. With the drink in her hand, he would likely have risked her sheets and their skin due to the steam lifting from the rim of the mug. And as far as he could tell, Lucius was not in the room to save them from attack. As always, the cat had proved himself over the past decade and a half to be a very peculiar animal. But Keiran couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy having Lucy around, regardless of the fact that it often included Cissa-cat just the same.

Keiran nearly sat up, but realized that he’d not bothered to don pajamas after everything, so he reached for the sheet, pulling it with him as he scooted to lean against the headboard. Reaching over, he pressed a kiss to her arm just below the hem of her sleeve. The images of the past afternoon and evening – and, indeed, night – flashed before his eyes and Keiran smiled, lifting a hand to push his hair back. It was probably all kinds of mess, considering. Upon giving up on that endeavor to organize the strands, his palms pressed against his eyes, rubbing away the sleep left there.

A glance around allowed Keiran to find his coffee, astounded when he drank from it and found that she still knew how he took it. Then again, it was just a plain coffee. Could have been that she forgot and simply let him choose on his own if he wanted to add anything. Deciding not to wonder too much about it, he took a larger drink and set it down again. He extended his hand to gently take up Millie’s cup and set it next to his. Yes, they had talked the night before, but no real conclusions had been made. Maybe they wouldn’t be, ever, but Keiran wanted to give it another shot. If it went badly, it was his own fault, sure. At least he could say he had tried to figure things out and make it work. He couldn’t be chided too badly for that, right?

In a move very like his first pleasant, comfortable morning with Millie so very long ago, Keiran flopped across the bed. His head settled in her lap without requesting permission, only just remembering to keep a hold of the sheets as he shifted to the nearly sideways position of choice. His fingers grabbed at the Prophet, taking it away from her, too. It fell to the floor, and Keiran awaited a telling off for a moment before tilting his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, about last night… I didn’t expect you to want to leave. With the award and everything you’ve got going. And, as you said, this is too strangely new for you to be comfortable. We can forgo staying over next weekend if it’s too… weird or something.”

His gaze returned to the doorway, cheek against her thigh, and his forefinger tapped against the knee closest to him. The words that had left him hardly even sounded like him, if Keiran were being honest. So often he was expected to be proficient and eloquent and, indeed, very proper. But it actually felt pretty good to be allowed to talk colloquially rather than stiffly as he had to as a headmaster or professor. Even as an author with the talks he had to give, as seen the day before. Different, still, was his time at the Ministry. They were no longer against him, thanks to Theodore, and it was extremely relieving to find that his snark could be put to good use. Then again, perhaps it could be, as well, with Millie and the kids now that they would all be in one place for the first time in… almost forever, really.

Sitting up, Keiran looked at Millie with a slightly bemused expression. “You know, I don’t think there’s really a precedent for what we’ve got, the pair of us. Or, I’ve not heard of it, anyway. So I vote that we don’t plan things ahead. We can treat this as we would have if given a choice by the Ministry. If we had been given time. It will be cause for all manner of teasing from the kids and Robin and whoever, but I don’t really care, because I’m too pleased for my own good. So, Millie, I know we joked about it yesterday, but really. Let’s go with it. Do dates and call each other stupid nicknames and embarrass the kids – because, really, how many people can embarrass their children on dates? It’s wonderful. And we can just do whatever we’re comfortable with and act like we’re younger than we are, because we never got to. I don’t think we would have ended up together with these amazing kids, without the Ministry intervening. But they also denied us of the foundation that relationships so badly need, y’know? The friends part, then the dating and messing around, probably the getting in trouble with each other part, but then the eventual decision that the things we fought over were stupid. So if it works out, well that’ll be bloody brilliant. But if not, at least we gave it a full go, right? Because otherwise I’d just hate not having done so, and hate… hate losing you all over again.”

Any post addressed to Ms. Melissa A. Finnigan was opened with the letter opener that she’d been given by her great-grandmother when she was a child. The novelty of using it, of getting any post at all, would never wear off for the woman and every bill she got she revelled in, boring though they were, because they were a testament to the fact that she was looking after herself. She was highly influenced by her years of dependency, highly desperate to shirk them and highly grateful that life had afforded her enough to be able to provide for herself and her children. Thus, when she pulled four bills asking politely for money she wasn’t upset or frustrated by then. She welcomed them.

The former day had afforded her five letters. The last was the most interesting, however. She turned over the hand written envelope and she took it in curiously as she slid her knife along the sticky seal of the lip. Then, when it was open she lifted the other letters onto the sideboard and opened up the one in her hand. After smoothing out the page, she took in the familiar scrawling, loopy handwriting and felt her heart still in her chest as her eyes scanned the page. She felt her anxiety subside though, as she read what it was. She put the letter down and inside the envelope found for tickets to the Ministry Gala that was spread all over the back of the paper.

When Keiran woke, Millie had more or less just gotten onto the sports pages. She’d missed the game from the night before and wasn’t entirely sure when she was going to fit in watching it for the following morning’s sport report but she was sure that if she read up widely on what happened then she’d have enough highlights to make a story. As she lifted her cup to her lips she felt him move and she turned her head, finding her sleepy man blighted by bedhead. She smiled at him, watching as he tried first to fix his hair then second rub the sleep from his eyes. She’d forgotten what that looked like. She’d probably only really seen it a handful of times and as she took him in.

“Good morning,” she murmured, helping him to grab onto his cup by turning the handle to his palm. When Keiran moved her things, Millie couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows. She laughed when he dropped his head into her lap and she immediately drew her fingers through his hair, doing nothing to help with the morning fluff but enjoyed the fact that she could if she so solicited to. She marvelled in the fact that she was laid in his lap, the sheets threatening to expose him in his entirety to the apartment building across the street and old Missus Minchin watering her lilies on the windowsill.

Millie took in his words, finding herself shaking her head, “No, Keiran,” she protested. “The thing is that I don’t have any cards left to play if I jump in without thinking about it. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, it’s that I don’t want to have to repeat before. If I give this up, I give up my anchor. I’m not quite ready to do that just yet. What I want to do is do weekends with you, though. I really do. If you’re free, I want to do it.”

Millie continued to absently comb through his hair and she leaned over, picking up her cup off of the side, taking a few sips before setting it back down again. This was the strangest scenario, really. Talking to your former husband about dating wasn’t really something that happened often for divorcees. Millie slumped against the pillows, wiggling down a little so Keiran’s head was resting on her belly.

“I don’t want to be eighteen again,” Millie laughed, picking that out of his speech before adding, “I think that sounds perfect. The Ministry have a fun way of intervening, though. I got four tickets to the Ministry gala. Being as I have a spare – you wouldn’t happen to want to go on a date with me there, would you? We can be more than cute enough to tease our children and I’m sure Robin and Avery will be there in some capacity to tease us. Unless we want to keep things quiet at the moment but, really, this ticket is going to go to waste otherwise.”

She smiled at him and scratched her nails across his scalp, wondering whether it was a good idea to pursue the relationship at all. She knew it was but she was still terrified. She was terrified that the outcome wouldn’t be favourable to them and she was nigh petrified that maybe they’d end up hating each other if it did and the children would have to deal with something far worse than general ambivalence.

“We might not have a precedent but we do have a responsibility,” Millie voiced her thoughts aloud. “Liam and Kelly want us back together and we owe it to them to give it our all, I suppose. I don’t want to wonder after what we’d be like if it didn’t work out and we hurt them somehow. Keiran, we need to promise to be friends, even if it does go down the pan we need to be friends at the end. We need to make it easier on our babies.”

“But,” she continued, “I do like what you’re saying. I suppose a friendship bedrock doesn’t really work with jumping into bed together. Though, I’m not complaining. Never change.” She smirked. “But, dates. Stupid as hell nicknames. I’m so down. At least we get to figure whether this is right. It feels it but for the sake of our family if we’re going to do this then we’ve got to give it our all. And we can. We will. So, breakfast. Are you hungry?”

Keiran nodded once before rolling over so he faced her, sheets curling around him like an odd wrap. His hand reached for the closest of hers, even as he pressed kisses into the fabric that covered her stomach. “Deal. I don’t think it would be wise to plan too much ahead, really, anyways.”

The implication of Millie’s ticket count was not lost on him. The twins and… whoever she chose to invite. Keiran didn’t want to know who it would have been outside of her asking him to go, so he just smiled up at her. “Can we match?” He asked, only partly kidding. The kids would either get a laugh out of it, or wish they had been told to stay home, undoubtedly. But of course, so long as Keiran had a say in it, they would attend her event just as he had requested they attend his.

“I know. I just meant… well, I’d rather it work out than hurt anybody. But on the off chance that it just can’t, I don’t want us to wonder if we actually tried.” Sitting up, Keiran reached a hand out to weave his fingers through her hair a few times as he leaned over her. “I’m a little hesitant about it all, but if we want even a shot at this going right, we’ve got to take it like we would have if we’d met, say, at a store or something. Like normal people who don’t expect something to go wrong. If we’re waiting for things to go bad, then they definitely will.”

His nose brushed against hers before he stole a kiss. Several more were peppered across her cheeks between his next words. “I’m all in, Missie. For you and the kids and everything. But, y’know.. mostly because I love you, and time clearly can’t take that from us.”

Keiran didn’t second-guess himself, at least not fully, until she offered breakfast. No, he had been content to accept her reasoning for not jumping right into the tough stuff, and pushed away the questions he had regarding what she would have done with that fourth ticket had he not been there. But somehow food made at home meant a lot more than food at a restaurant, when it came to his new attempt at a relationship with her. Because, hey wait, wasn’t he just yesterday even wondering if she would go to his talk? Hadn’t he expected her to walk away when he suggested dinner?

Everything had happened incredibly quickly, and now he found himself unsure what to do about it. Keiran was fairly pleased, to be sure, but he almost didn’t understand. It was like someone was playing a massively drawn-out joke on him that would end up with him being crushed in the end. He had feeling that, were she to decide again that he wasn’t worth it, he would manage to feign friendship in front of the twins and their mutual relations, but refuse to see her privately. Whether that meant excuses or planning things over his allotted time with her, Keiran didn’t think he would care. Because she would think things were okay, and that would be good enough for him. It was easier, he had learned, to break down on the inside than to show anyone you were hurting.

Nodding finally, Keiran turned, pushing the sheets back, and searched for the clothes he had intended to put on the night before. Tempted though he had been to suggest that other, more important things could be done with their time – as it was a Sunday, and their Sundays had at one point been spent doing exactly those things – Keiran managed to keep that to himself. Shuffling from down the hall reminded him again that they were not alone, and that they were older than he realized when he was in the same room as her. It was seriously like Millie took off ten years. Or, you know, fifteen. But the exact number isn’t important. The realization of just how alive he felt around her was a bit astonishing, though he’d been noticing it since he’d seen her in the audience.

He had finished dressing by the time he came around to that thought, tee and shorts donned and his hair somewhat more put together. Turning over his shoulder, he just looked at her for a moment before sending a sidelong glance at the door. “You ready?” he asked, feeling completely foolish at the sudden nerves that struck him. The twins wanted them together; it wasn’t like they would think poorly of him or Millie after what had happened. Right? “United front and all that.”

The do-over wasn’t such an easy thing to try and coordinate. There was too much history, too much baggage, and too many let downs which would inevitably make for a disaster scene in the wake of failure. His words did echo correctly, though. Being expectant of failure only served to make it inevitable and though she did try her hardest to wash it away from her mind the ebbing, niggling worries still tickled behind her ears and she wondered, rightly or wrongly, whether this was right. She wasn’t eighteen years old anymore. She wasn’t so naïve. She didn’t need him, strictly. This was her decision. Perhaps that was why she was so worried, then. In lieu of not needing him, she didn’t know whether they had anything left, other than the children, which bound them together. Blind love could only get you so far.

Swallowing back her fears however, Millie leant in and tucked her head under Keiran’s, slipping her lips against his gently. She closed her eyes as his fingers began to comb through the knotted, dirty blonde locks that were beginning to get their first few handfuls of grey. Thus far it wasn’t noticeable bar underneath the curt, critical gaze of hers in the bathroom mirror and until it became blisteringly obvious that she was careering towards forty without any sign of stopping, she would keep her hair natural. She could forget about all of that with his fingers drifting through it, though. She could abandon inhibiting concerns and she could just be, without their poor influence on her.

“We can definitely match,” she smirked. “I can sort it out, if you like.” She reopened her eyes and considered him thoughtfully for a few moments. “We’re going to try, Keiran. I promise. We can work this out, can’t we? For real, this time. Like, there won’t be … blah, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just, I want to do this. That’s all I know. I’m just bloody terrified, is all.” Millie reached out, grasping his chin between her fingers and she pulled him to her, kissing him fiercely before releasing him, shaking her head.

When Keiran got up, Millie took that as her time to do the same and she threw her legs over the side, plopping her feet onto the floor, and stood up, readjusting her top out of habit before throwing her arms over her head, stretching a twinging muscle in her arm. Dropping her arms back down she took her glasses off of the side table and set them on her head, picking up her things with her other hand, reaching out with the returning one to take their cups. She was more or less ready as Keiran was and she looked at him wryly, wondering herself what on earth he had to be worried about when all he really had to deal with was their children when they were only just awake. The first hot drink of the day usually served to alleviate the moodiness, though. Thankfully.

“Come on you with your united front,” she commented with a chuckle. “Welcome to our Sundays, I guess. Let’s get some food, work out what tweedle dumb and tweedle dee are doing and then we can fix ourselves a day, okay?”

It felt weird, being the one in the know, as it were. She had always tended to take Keiran’s lead, or at least it felt that way. She couldn’t really remember, in all truthfulness but there was a marked difference in the way she sauntered out, her hips swaying idly from side to side, indicative of a woman – or rather, a cat – who had gotten the proverbial cream. She knew how to play the game. Unlike him, she wasn’t blindfolded to both the flat and the first-hand experience of the way life went on in Dublin. The lives the twins led when they were with him was very different to the ones they pursued when with her. She hoped against hope the two would come together at some point, in whatever degree possible.

“Good morning, Lee-lee!” Millie enthused, spotting her son flopped on the sofa, his legs hanging over the end. Liam grunted his greeting, holding the mug he was resting on his chest up in the air briefly, acknowledging Millie for making it and she smiled, pausing to pop a kiss to his head before continuing on behind the counter into the kitchen. She put the cups down in the sink and dropped the papers and post and such onto the side before reaching for the fridge, opening it up to find some inspiration for the breakfast.

“How long are you at training today, love?” Millie asked over her shoulder.

“Ten til two,” Liam returned, mid-yawn. Millie nodded thoughtfully, already making note of the fact that he’d need some sandwiches. Until that point, though, he’d need a half decent breakfast and so she took out the sleeve of eggs, the bacon and went to the bread cupboard for some of the plain breakfast muffins she’d taken a liking to.

“Scrambled eggs and bacon sarnies,” Millie offered. “How does that appeal to your palette Mister Hayes?”

She turned, fixing her gaze upon Keiran with a wily smirk as it set in that there were now to ‘Mr Hayes’’ in her midst. Millie averted her eyes, taking them over to the feet idly tapping against the heaving sound of the crowd on the television and she whistled, the sound loud and piercing, shaking Liam out of his stupor. He sat up, his hood from his jumper falling off of his head, betraying his sleepiness in all of his glory. Millie smiled at him and he took a quick sip of his tea, raising a smile of his own in acquiescence to her offer.

“You sure you want to go today?” Millie asked, setting down the things. “You’ve got all summer to go. Why don’t you just take a day off, go back to bed for a start, and just relax, huh?”

For once, the young man didn’t moan, complain or even mutter a response. He instead dutifully got to his feet, moved into the kitchen to sit his cup in the sink and shuffled out again, pausing to kiss his mother on the cheek and pat his father on the shoulder in passing. Once the bedroom door clicked shut, Millie smiled, glancing over at the Quidditch game on the television as one of the Ballycastle Bats scored a goal. A good one, too.

“God,” she reflected, “I miss playing Quidditch. I think I was a bit before your time. Theo said you used to be good though,” she pointed out as she flicked the kettle on again, fishing the cups out of the sink to give them a rinse and wipe round. “Another cuppa?” she asked him. “Then I’ll get some breakfast for us. They won’t be up for another few hours, yet.”

“You can hold off on the old united front,” she turned to Keiran, looping her arms around his middle. She reached up, pursing her lips for a kiss before bobbing back down, flat onto her feet once more. “So, Mr Hayes the Elder, given that the Younger has returned to his pit, can I tempt you with some scrambled eggs or would you like a poached one on a nice bit of cremated toast. Bit of balsamic glaze, maybe. We’ve got the works here. Or, you can always have me.” She winked at him.

Slow, what’s slow?

While their first Sunday - and, really, Saturday as well - had gone well, and although Keiran had indeed taken up her offer before Kelly came wandering out into the house, it inevitably had to draw to a close. He would be expected at the Ministry come morning, and had to check in at the school before the students needed to move in. So come time to leave, he bid the children goodnight, and tugged Millie into the front hall. If Liam and Kelly were watching, Keiran didn't know and quite honestly didn't care. It was impressive, really, that they could yet give the twins those traumatic childhood experiences involving embarrassing parents who didn't mind public displays. As if he hadn't gotten enough of her in those twenty-four hours - and he felt he hadn't; not enough to make up for fifteen years, anyway - Keiran wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. The fabric he found there was fisted and tugged, used as leverage for when his teeth caught her lower lip. Releasing it, he smiled and pressed an 'I love you' to her lips before kissing her soundly. He couldn't remember their first kiss, but they were sure as hell making up for it now. Even though night had already fallen and he had an early day around the corner, it took several attempts to actually pull himself away long enough to go.

The following week, of course, felt like those fifteen years all over again. It was just because it was the first time he had been given real access to her time and now the first time he was expecting to have it again. Or that's what he told himself, anyway, as the week dragged on. Ministry appointments were met and trips to Hogwarts were completed as necessary, so that when Friday rolled around he was a bit worn out but still looking forward to the evening. He had written Liam on Wednesday to ensure that he and his sister wouldn't pry this time. The pair could manage on their own for a couple hours - at least until one or both of the parents returned.

As soon as his afternoon meeting with two new professors ended, his schedule was free, and Keiran could feel the tension release. If the night went well, he would most definitely be parading Millie around the next Saturday at the gala for the award ceremony. And a proud bastard he would be, too, when Millie stood to go up and receive hers. It was about time, he felt, because after waking up every morning that week to turn on her show, Keiran couldn't help but wonder why anyone wouldn't give her one. Why anyone wouldn't listen. Well, besides him of course; he had avoided that radio show for ages now because he had once turned it on and dropped the plate in his hand upon hearing her voice. Cleanup had been a disaster, and the radio was never turned on again... until that Monday.

But regardless, the end of the day had come around, and now he was moving around his flat, cleaning and all the rest. Finally, the scene was set and he stepped back to look at the room, only slightly disappointed in himself for being such a pansy. The furniture had been moved around, organized into a sort of lining within which an indoor picnic had been set. He had made jokes in the past about preparing this exact evening for her, but had failed to do so. Now, though, more than a decade older, Keiran had chosen to just go ahead and do what he had to. If this whole ordeal proved something to her, then his mission would be accomplished - man card lost or not.

With a sharp nod of approval, he turned on his heel and found himself outside of Millie's flat. If she had known where his place was, Keiran could have put up with waiting - well, could have attempted. But the sooner he saw her again and they made sure that their, um, agreement would work, the better. How he had managed fifteen years without her was suddenly beyond him, even as his gut understood something very important: if she pulled away again, there would be no third try - even if sometimes the cliche proved to be true. What he had felt all week was some kind of bizarre withdrawal, and at points he had been sent back mentally to those months after deciding he couldn't stay. Those times had been complete hell, and dealing with it again would destroy him.

Weekends, he told himself as he knocked on the door, would have to do for now. Neither could jump into something too big just yet. Keiran had a feeling that Millie knew just as well as he did that what they were doing was a huge risk.

“Hey, hey, hey… guess what Dublin? It’s Friday!”

The week that had taken over the strangest two days that Melissa Finnigan had, hands down, ever experienced, or at least, for the last fifteen years, had been and gone almost as quickly as the two days. It was there all of a sudden and then in a blink of an eye, Thursday melted into Friday and the rug was pulled out from underneath her as it were. In the midst of 60s tunes and 90s swing, she’d whiled the week away and then it dawned on her that it was actually Friday. Like, really Friday, the Friday.

There had been a part of her that had almost considered it all to be a false alarm. Upon waking up alone in her bed on that first day she wondered if it had all been a strange dream. A small stack of books in a canvas back, however, reminded her quietly that it hadn’t been a dream. She’d met her former husband. She’d had dinner with him. She’d had sex with him. They’d spent the weekend together. At the time, Millie had rolled over and groaned heavily into the pillows, frustration abundant.

Work and the bustle of getting her children packed in some degree and ready for school again took her mind off of what had transpired and she didn’t really have the time to think about whether or not she regretted it or not. She didn’t think she did. She loved him, she knew that without a shadow of a doubt, but she had no clue whether or not this was a safe idea or not. She’d spent a decade and a half trying her hardest to get over him. To no avail, clearly, but she had led her life in the hope that she might. Instead she’d undone all of that with first asserting she still loved him then sleeping with him.

Now they were dating. Sort of.

When Millie arrived home, the twins still weren’t up, faint snoring coming from their rooms reminding her that though her mind was brutally aware of the world and overthinking everything that passed through it, most teenagers – hers included – were still in bed. So, in order to do something with herself she went out for a run and when she returned the first movements had been made and by the time she left the shower and dressed again in something more comfortable to run errands in, both of her children were up and sat on the sofa eating cereal.

The day passed a little like that. Millie was in and out of the house like a blue arse fly, doing this that and the other across town, for their neighbour, buying food for the house and all of the rest of it. When she finally walked in after lunch, a movie was playing and the twins were in the midst of looking like they were going to complete their homework which should have been done weeks ago. She kept quiet on the matter, however, electing to sit with a cup of tea on the kitchen island and watch the television also.

When the movie ended, Millie looked at the time and bolted off of the island. Kelly looked up from her Charms essay and frowned a little bit as her mother’s bedroom door closed behind herself and Liam chuckled above her on the sofa. She turned over, raising her eyebrows confusedly at him and he looked up from the textbook resting on his chest with an airy expression that read: you should know what’s going on.

“Mum has a date,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, licking his index finger before turning the page.

“With who?” Kelly asked indignantly, dismay clouding her features.

“Dad, duh.” Liam drawled.

Meanwhile, Millie showered for the second time that day and touched up her shaved areas of skin with a quick do-over with her wand. She then dried her hair and set it into soft curls. She then spent a little while applying make-up, anxiety flooding through her as time ticked down. She hurried out of the bathroom, finding herself some underwear. Any old, initially, then, spotting herself in the mirror she groaned angrily and went in search of something that matched, first, but inevitably ended up a touch racier than intended. Then it was about something to wear on top – funnily enough – and that was where she got a bit lost.

In the end, it was the knock on the door which made Millie pick something and she stepped into the green dress quickly, shoving her arms through the holes and zipping it up with her wand before shoving her feet into a pair of heels that were largely nondescript but nice enough. Then, taking a second to look at herself in the mirror she grabbed up a bag, put her wand, wallet and keys in there and set about stepping out into the rest of the house, albeit monstrously hesitantly.

It was Kelly who opened the door, though. Having hopped up at the sound, she took leave of her school things and unlocked the front door, pulling it open to find her father stood on the doorstep. A smirk lit up her features immediately and she looked at him curiously.

“Hey, Dad.” She hedged, pushing the door open a little further for him to step in. “How was your week?”

Liam threw his hand up in vague greeting from the sofa. He closed his book and tossed it onto the coffee table before rising to sit, leaning against the cushions with a smile thrown in the way of his father. His eyes flicked away, though, when Millie made her way down the hall into the living room, giving a small “ah” before slipping her hand into a decorative bowl on one of the surround sound speakers. She took out a pair of earrings she’d been convinced she’d lost and quickly pierced them into her lobes before turning to her daughter and her husband date? Was that the right word?

“Alright, um,” Millie eyed Liam. “I left a fifty in the take out menu drawer. Use it wisely and I want the change.”

Kelly made a face at Keiran’s shoulder and folded her arms over her chest, looking to Liam for a little bit of interjection. He held up his arms in acquiescence, though, knowing they’d argue over who got what as they’d never split the change both ways. It was easier to give it back to their mother – that is, unless they’d bought something outlandish by that point in time.

“Your Uncle Elliot is going to pop in, alright? So don’t have a party or anything,” she pressed.

Liam had the gall to look scandalised. “Would I-”

“Yes,” Millie scolded without missing a beat. “You would. Okay? Don’t talk to the phone salesmen. Don’t answer the door. Am I missing anything?” She looked over at Kelly.

“Don’t burn the flat block down,” she supplied helpfully.

“Right,” Millie looked pointedly at her son again who continued to look victimised. “Okay? Well, have a good evening you two.”

She made an effort to cross the room but Liam, moving the quickest and the most she’d seen all day, slid in front of her, turning himself sideways to look at both parents.

“We have some ground rules we’d like to lay down, don’t we, Kell?” He began slyly.

“Curfew,” she announced, slipping away from Keiran, out of the line of fire. “Ten o’clock, mum,” she called out, opening the fridge.

Millie coloured. “Excuse me?” She griped. “Don’t give me that bollocks, you two.”

“Well, to be fair,” Liam began, “dad did tell Kell that she can’t date until she’s middle aged and that’s fifty-”

“-You’re thirty-three!” Kelly chipped in, pouring out a glass of orange juice.

“So, being as you’re seventeen years shy of middle age, you should really have a curfew.” Liam nodded.

“Ten,” the pair said in synch.

“Piss off,” Millie scoffed. “I want thirty quid back from you lot, y’here?”

The two whined in unison and Millie smirked, singing her goodbyes at them mockingly before pushing at Keiran gently, coaxing him out of the flat.

“Have fun kids!” Liam called tartly behind them.

Millie slammed the door shut, distant laughter could be heard.

“Bloody hate your kids,” she muttered tersely at Keiran before looking up at him, acknowledging that actually, wow, she was with him again – making a habit of twice in as many weeks. Last week. This week. It was more than she’d seen him, she supposed, in the whole decade and a half.

Despite her veiled irritation which wasn’t really and truly grounded in anything, just exasperation and the belief that at fourteen she herself wasn’t as ballsy – but then who knew, really, when it was so long ago – she found herself smiling. Then, taking a small liberty she stepped forward, her hand finding his shoulder and she leaned up onto her tip toes, brushing her lips against his.

“Hi,” she greeted him softly, upon pulling away. “How’ve you been, Professor Hayes?”