“Miss Granger, you’re going to damage your eyes if you continue working with such limited light.”
Hermione looks up from the parchment she’s reviewing and stares at the man leaning against her door frame. He has removed his work robes, the navy blue garment hanging off one broad shoulder, so he’s only wearing a pair of tailored trousers and a lilac shirt with his tie loose and the first two buttons already unfastened. Her gaze lingers on the dark skin of his neck for longer is appropriate before she quickly raises her gaze. “Thank you for your concern, Minister Shacklebolt, but my eyesight is not in danger.”
His full lips quirk slightly, and she knows she’s been caught staring at him. He pushes himself off the doorframe and enters her office, casually removing his cufflinks and then rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. That causes his dress shirt to stretch almost obscenely over his biceps, which he obviously knows based on the low chuckle he makes. “It’s late, Miss Granger. The only people left in the Ministry are those working overnight shifts. Your candle is burned down to a stump.”
“If you are attempting to scold me for working too late, I’d like to point out that you are still here, too,” she tells him matter-of-factly. She refuses to stare at his arms because she knows it’ll just amuse him to catch her ogling him in such a way. He does it intentionally, of course, yet coolly denies such childish behavior whenever she brings it to his attention. She’s considered returning the favor, but she hasn’t reached a point where she can be so brazen in the workplace.
“Yes, but I had a Floo call with the American President of Magic, so I had to remain late.” He gracefully sits in the chair opposite her desk and tilts his head back to look at her ceiling. “I would have left two hours ago if not for having to deal with that inane woman.”
Hermione narrows her eyes slightly. “Did she make suggestive comments again regarding your strong shoulders and capable hands?”
He makes a noise that isn’t an answer before looking at her. “I informed her that my partner would enjoy the autumn retreat she suggested I take to America this October. I believe she understood, finally, that I was not interested in anything beyond the professional.”
“Good.” Hermione isn’t a jealous person, really, but she hasn’t liked hearing about the flirtatious American President very much. “I would hate to be forced to cause an international incident by hexing her, after all.”
A lazy smile crosses his lips as he studies her. “I must admit, it’s flattering when you get feisty and possessive, little girl.”
“Not at work, Minister,” she reminds him firmly, doing her best to ignore the racing of her heart when he drawls out his private name for her.
Their relationship transitioned from merely professional with a casual friendship to something much more intimate nearly eighteen months ago, and they’ve managed to keep it a secret from all but their closest friends for that entire time. Neither of them is interested in the publicity that will undoubtedly surround their relationship once it does become public knowledge, and they agreed at the beginning to keep it separate from work. She still has a room at Grimmauld Place, but she hasn’t used it in many months because she’s basically living with Kingsley now. Eventually, they’ll decide to be seen together in public and deal with the media, but it’ll be when they choose to take that step.
“Ah yes. I forgot.” His dark eyes twinkle as he moves his gaze over her. “Perhaps you’ll have to spank me to ensure I remember in the future.”
Hermione blinks at him and feels warmth rush into her cheeks. “You are an evil man, Kingsley Shacklebolt. You can’t just waltz into my office and distract me this way.”
“Really?” He chuckles again. “I thought that’s what I was doing, so it appears that I can, Miss Granger.”
“You shouldn’t even if you can,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “I want to finish my analysis of this case before I leave tonight. I’ve got another half hour, at least.”
“I’ll wait.” He arches a brow. “Or you could take it home with you, if you insist on working ahead.”
“I’m not…” She trails off and has to resist the urge to stick her tongue at him when he gives her a knowing look. “Fine. I’m working ahead, but you know that I’m still trying to get a feel for this department. It’s only been four months since my transfer, after all, and I want to prove that I was the best candidate for the position.”
“Griselda is an extremely intelligent woman. She wouldn’t have selected you if she didn’t have confidence in your ability. She also wouldn’t tolerate you working such long hours when it’s unnecessary should she ever find out,” he tells her. “There’s no need to prove anything to anyone, Hermione.”
“Sometimes I really dislike the fact that you know me so well,” she mutters, rolling her eyes when Kingsley just smiles at her. She closes the file before rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m only stopping because I’ve realized the candle is almost gone and my neck has a slight crick in it.”
“Of course, Miss Granger.” Kingsley nods. He stands up when she does, glancing down at the file then at her. “If you want to finish it, just bring it with us, and you can get the last analysis written while I make dinner.”
Hermione walks around her desk and leans up on the tips of her toes so she can press a kiss against his mouth. It’s late and no one else is around, so she’s not worried about anyone seeing. She just loves that he understands her so well and accepts her, faults and all, so she can’t help herself this time. He blinks down at her, and she smiles. “It’s a one-time occurrence, Kingsley, so don’t start indulging in naughty fantasies involving your desk and my knickers on the floor,” she warns, having to laugh when he ducks his head and mutters at her.
“Keep that up, and I won’t offer to rub your neck when we get home,” he says, reaching over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Such an empty threat, Minister. Didn’t they teach you better techniques in auror training? I’m disappointed.” She makes a show of sighing and shaking her head.
“I’m starting to think you might be the one in need of a spanking, little girl,” he drawls, leaning down so his voice is a purr against her ear. Straightening up, he smiles innocently even as his eyes practically undress her. “Would you rather have chicken or fish for dinner?”
She picks up her file and takes his arm, using her wand to extinguish the burning candle. “I think we should order Chinese. Later.” She looks up at him as she rubs her fingers over his palm, licking her lips in a deliberate manner that has him tightening his grip on her hand as his eyes narrow.
“What happened to not playing games at work?” He stares at her mouth for a moment before she’s suddenly pressed against the wall in an alcove near the lift. He kisses her hard, large hands moving along her body as he deepens the kiss. When they pull apart, he smiles down at her. “Much later, little girl.”
Hermione wants to glare at him for breaking their rule, but, really, she knows she started it, and he just called her on it. Besides, he’d never have taken the risk if he hadn’t been sure they were alone, so she isn’t worried about being seen. “Rather daring for a Ravenclaw, Minister,” she finally says, straightening out her robes before she steps past him and pushes the button for the lift.
“A bit of Gryffindor has been rubbing off on me lately, Miss Granger,” he says, catching her gaze. She elbows him lightly for being rather crass, which makes his lips quirk. When the lift door opens, he motions for her to step inside. Once they’re on their way, they keep their conversation professional and discuss a case that she’s been working on.
Fortunately, they’ll be home soon enough. Then they can pick up where they left off.
End
Compatibility
Story Notes:
12/7/14