[EEL FIC: Late Nights]
It was late, past late, past the past late that she would be coming home when things had gone badly. Something had to be wrong, and as Taylor was closing up for the night he couldn't focus on the cash-out and eventually gave up in frustration, handing the task over to Darin. He sat down on one of the stools, trying to reassure himself that she was fine. Raids were just part of her job, sometimes they kept her out most of the night. He appreciated that aspect of operating a bar; whenever she was out fighting Merlin-knows-who he was able to keep his mind preoccupied with work instead of worrying like a prat at home. Shit, she might even be going up against people they went to school with. Hogwarts had certainly seen its fair share of evil, twisted bastards. But no, no, she was with Derek, she was okay, Derek and her were basically the most badass Auror team that anyone ever saw (according to Taylor.)
He was sitting in an awkwardly stiff manner, radiating discomfort. His hands were clenching and unclenching into fists, and he wished that he'd thought to pour himself a pint before sitting down. Darin, sensing his brother's distress, slid a glass down the bar neatly into Taylor's open hand, full of a dark, amber liquid. "Thought you could use something stronger than beer," Darin said, as if Taylor's inner monologue had been spoken aloud. Taylor smiled weakly in thanks, swirling the drink around in the glass. Darin, finished with the closing duties, poured himself an identical beverage and sat down next to him. The two of them sat in silence for a time, like two, moderately liquored up sentinels in the night.
Darin hadn't ever been particularly close with his brother's girlfriend before she'd moved in with them three years previously. He remembered the night that Taylor had approached him about the idea of her living with them, and Darin had thought he was mental but had been expecting it all the same. He didn't mind, she was fit and fun to be around but he told him not to expect him to start adjusting his lifestyle just because a bird was around. Taylor had laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, joking that Darin couldn't 'adjust his lifestyle' even if he tried. The two of them were set in their ways, and being with Anora was Taylor's way. Besides, Darin mused, maybe it would stop him from being a worried little housewife when she was gone all night fighting Death Eaters. He wasn't expecting to grow as fond of her as he did, she was easier to get along with than most girls he knew and with the exception of being easier on the eyes she could be just like one of the blokes. Hell, he was even starting to feel a little concerned that she wasn't back yet, but he tried to keep things lighthearted for his twin's sake. "I reckon she'll be home any minute," he said after a while. "They're probably fucking up some Death Eaters beyond recognition even as we speak. I bet it's brilliant."
Taylor was mid-swig and snorted into his glass. "Yeah, I imagine that she's going all Die Hard on them, guns blazing." Figuratively speaking, he hoped. He swallowed loudly and took another giant pull of his scotch.
A loud crack erupted from the back room just then, followed by the sounds of dishes breaking and a loud curse. Taylor shot Darin a confused look before dashing back to see what the hell was going on. Darin held his glass aloft in tribute to his prophetic skills, and downed the rest of his drink as his brother left the room.
"Nora? Nora what - _bloody hell."_
Nora was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the glasses she'd broken by accident at her clumsy Apparition. Her robes were torn in several places, revealing some mean looking burns, and she was fucking knackered. As Taylor came careening into the room she looked up and proffered an exhausted smile. "Love," he said breathlessly, wordlessly repairing the glasses with a flick of his wand and taking a spot on the floor with her as they soared back into their rightful places. She met his anxious gaze and took his hands into her own to communicate to him that she was all right. "We found them," she said to him as confusion passed over his face. "The triplets, Taylor, we fucking found them and beat them." It took Taylor a moment to realize she was talking about her uncles, Constance's brothers, and his eyes widened in recognition. "They're in Azkaban as we speak, waiting to be questioned with Veritaserum," she managed a tired looking grin.
"Holy shit," he breathed, sitting back. This was big, fucking **huge.** "Nora, I, I don't know what to say. Are you okay? Is it even possible for you to be okay right now? Do you even feel like talking about it right now?" He was cupping her face in his hands right now, searching her eyes for answers. "I was so worried.."
Anora was unable to keep her emotions at bay anymore. She was safe, she was home, she had won. Her eyes welled with tears and she rested her cheek on Taylor's hand. "Yeah, love, I mean, no, I don't want to talk about it just yet. I'm just so tired," He was nodding along with her words, "Of course, absolutely. C'mere," and he pulled her against him so that he could hold her from behind, arms around her.
The feel of his touch made Anora vaguely aware that she was in a moderate amount of pain from being burned with so many hexes, and she couldn't hide her wince. Taylor looked at her as if for the first time since she'd returned, registering her injuries before swearing loudly and pulling out his wand to do some healing spells that Hannah had taught him. Thank gods for Hannah, he mentally thanked her. Nora, for her part, was overcome with the feeling of warm tingles spreading over her body and sank against Taylor. "Thanks, love," she said, feeling overwhelmed at the amount of affection he was giving her. It wasn't fair to him to have to put her back together every time she came home after a raid, broken. "I'm..I'm so sorry you have to deal with me like this all the time," she stammered, crying. "It's not fair that you should have to deal with the aftermath of my job all the time," she was rambling, feeling needy and guilty for depending on him so much.
Taylor nuzzled her shoulder. "Yes, I would much prefer you if you were the female version of Jean-Claude Van Damme. Seriously, you know I can't stand it when you're not being your usual stoic and emotionless self," he lectured. He had achieved the desired effect, he felt her body lean into him more, like she was relieved, and heard her laugh softly. "Gods, Taylor, I love you so much. I just want you to have the best of me, you know?"
"Nora, this right here? This is what it's all about," he held her tighter as he continued. "Sitting on the floor, four in the morning, you coming home battered and bruised and knowing that I'll always be here waiting for you. Always. This is as real as it gets, this is our life and I wouldn't change a goddamn thing about it. You have no idea how fucking proud I am of you, every day. You're saving _lives_, love. It's my fucking _privilege_ to be the one who gets to hold you afterwards, to be the one who takes care of someone who takes care of so many people."
Well, he hadn't been expecting to launch into that homily right then, but he had meant every word. "In fact, there's something I wanted to ask you.."
Anora, overcome with emotion at her wonderful boyfriend's declarations, turned around to face him and kiss him deeply before he had a chance to speak again. "Anything," she said. "Whatever it is, the answer is yes." She was feeling overwhelmingly sentimental and affectionate. She would do anything for this man that she'd known for so long, since she was twelve. He had been a constant source of love in her life, in whatever capacity. Friendship, romance, and this deep amalgamation of the two that they had been building for years now.
He chuckled, trying to mask the bought of nerves that had suddenly manifested. "I'm not sure you want to jump the gun on that just yet, because I'm asking you if you want to marry me," he fumbled in his pocket, pulling out the ring he had been carrying around with him for months. Grand romantic gestures had stopped being a thing that was important to them. This was a momentous enough task without all the distractions of the typical proposal conventions. He had felt pretty confident hours earlier that she would say yes, but what if she said no? He hadn't even thought to prepare for what would happen if she said no.
Fortunately, he didn't have to, because Nora was nodding and kissing him by way of response, and he was so distracted by that that he hadn't noticed her answer. "Wait, so is that a yes? You can't leave a man hanging like that! I've got pretty delicate nerves myself, you know!" She was laughing by then, nodding and repeating "Yes, yes, obviously yes, you git," as he was slipping the ring on her finger and pulling her into an embrace. "You know, as the future Mrs. DeLouise you're going to have to show me some more respect," he said into her hair as he held her. "No more of this 'git,' nonsense. You'll have to behave like a sophisticated married lady," He braced himself for her retaliation but she was so exhausted that she just laughed and kissed his jaw. "We'll see about that," she said, pulling back so that she could look him cheekily before kissing him again. "Let's go to bed, you handsome git," she grinned before pulling them to their feet and leading him upstairs.