To Know Who I Am

Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to my beta reader, ubiquirk, my Brit-picker, saracen77, and my alpha readers, bluedolfyn and willow_kat.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.
Author's Note: Sorry for the long hiatus. I didn't mean to let more than a month go between chapters! Should be back to a chapter every couple of weeks until the next influx of schedule conflicts. Also, thanks very much to everyone who has left a review! It's always very encouraging to receive them. Someone asked about email updates. I haven't set up a way to do that, but if people are interested, I'll make a Yahoo!Group to announce new chapters. Please let me know if you're interested in that.


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Chapter 14

Severus deflected another of Potter’s curses and spun to cast several spells of his own at Celia, varying the angle of each. She was playing the two of them against each other, either dodging his spells so they went to Potter or deflecting Potter’s spells at Severus.

A clearly useful technique, but she is not quite managing to get herself enough space to Apparate or otherwise escape. This is supposed to be a simulated ambush, not merely a defensive drill. Her failure to end this is allowing me to see the pattern she is following, and that is unacceptable.

The next stream of hexes and curses he cast included several that had, with the slightest change in wand movement, been made to flip around her shields as she angled them to intercept the spells and redirect them. A Sectumsempra slashed her robes even as she tried to dance out of its way, and a Tripping Jinx laid her out on the floor, though she quickly rolled back up into a combat stance.

It seems the more physical training she’s had as a Slayer is useful in magical combat as well. At least, it seems so while she is on the defensive.

The remainder of his spells ricocheted to the walls and ceiling rather than at Potter, giving the other wizard the opportunity to take advantage of her momentary distraction. Potter’s Blasting Hex forced her to duck and roll again, and he caught her a glancing blow with something that pinned her wand arm to her side, but not completely. His next several spells were deflected towards Severus, who quickly blocked them.

“Time!” Willow called out just as Potter let one final Stunner fly, only to end up ducking it himself as it bounced off her shield and hit the wall behind him.

All three lowered their wands and looked to the redheaded witch.

“Good,” said Willow. “That was good. Mostly.”

Celia Summoned a towel and used it to wipe her face and neck. Severus opted to use a Refreshing Charm instead, though he noticed Potter Summoned another towel from the same pile. All three followed Willow’s gesture towards the table where Kennedy was sitting.

“Okay,” Celia said as she took her seat, “why with the ‘mostly’?”

“You could start with the fact you’re using that wand way too much,” Kennedy said with a scornful tone. “Might as well tie one hand behind your back. Get two if you’re going to be that dependent on it.”

Using two wands? That would be rather conspicuous, even assuming one could wield them both accurately.

“No, that part I’m okay with,” Willow said with a small frown. “Making your opponents underestimate you is fine. As long as you don’t start to buy into it.”

“I don’t,” Celia protested. “I’m not. I’m not even really using it half the time.”

Severus found the idea of using wandless magic while actually holding a wand rather more disturbing than the fact she preferred wandless magic in the first place. Why would one do such a thing? And how?

“But you are using it half the time,” Willow replied. “So the question is whether that’s choice or habit.”

Celia shrugged. “Can’t it be both? I told you, for some spells it really helps, mostly for some of the Charms I’m not great at.”

“Hang on,” Potter spoke up. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s like I was trying to explain before about different kinds of magic,” Celia answered. “Willow’s basically a Muggle, so the way she learned to do magic is different than how it’s taught in the wizarding world. Not as different as some make it out to be, but definitely different. Starting with no wand.”

“I’m still having a hard time believing that,” Potter said. “I mean, Willow, Celia here says you’ve done some pretty incredible things. Things that aren’t even supposed to be possible. And I’ve seen you do magic today. So how is it you’re a Muggle?”

“The difference is I wasn’t born to it,” Willow explained. “Celia, did you bring the …? Oh, good.”

She took two phials filled with amber liquid from Celia and handed one to Kennedy. Severus thought he recognized the potion but wondered what she hoped to demonstrate. Celia, he saw, had retained one and was adding a bit of her own hair to it, as were the other two women.

“This was my first bit of magic ever,” Willow said with a smile. “Everybody always thinks it was Angel’s soul.”

“Well, you’ve got to admit, using beakers and Bunsen burners does take some of the mystique out of it,” Celia said.

Apparently Potions are not treated as magic by those who practice it outside the wizarding world either. How very … predictable.

She turned to Harry and added, “This potion will indicate whether the person being tested is a witch or wizard or not. At least, if they’re one by birth. Pureblood, half-blood, Muggleborn, doesn’t matter.” She tipped the phial over her hand and the amber liquid immediately changed to dark blue.

Willow did the same. On her hand, however, it did not change color. Considering the rather amazing display of magic she’d given just two days prior, Severus found that incredible.

“And just to show it’s not really testing for Slayerness,” Kennedy said as she tipped some onto her own hand, also with no reaction.

“Then how do you do magic?” Potter asked, saving Severus the trouble.

“It’s harder,” Willow explained. “And to start out, it actually takes more props, not less. And lots of ritual. Way too much Latin. But anyone can learn to do at least a little.” She waved her hand – without use of a wand – and the spilled potions vanished from all three women’s hands.

“Even so, Willow’s pretty unusual,” Celia added. “There’s … a lot of reasons for that.”

The two witches did nothing so obvious as exchange a glance, but something told Severus that several of those reasons involved the Dark Arts.

“Bottom line,” Celia continued, “being wizarding-born, including Muggleborns, gives a huge edge with the magics. We still don’t understand why, and if anybody in the wizarding world has studied it, it’s all pretty hush-hush. Seems like we generate more of our own magic somehow, while Muggles who learn it have to tap into what’s around them as well. Once in a huge while, someone like Willow taps into enough that she starts generating more on her own too, but there’s still just enough difference she tests as Muggle. And again, since she taught me, her way comes easier.”

No doubt, if anyone has studied such things here, they would keep such information in the Department of Mysteries and possibly Obliviate the researchers. The very idea that any Muggle could become as powerful as this Willow clearly is would cause panic.

“Which, to get back to the point, is why you need to be sure why you decide to either use your wand or not,” Willow said. “If you’re using it as a decoy, that’s fine. If you’re using it because it amplifies some of your spells, that’s fine too. But if you’re getting dependent on it, that’s a problem.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that in the next round,” Celia retorted. “What else?”

“Hmm?”

“What else was wrong?”

“Oh.” The redhead looked at her sternly. “You’re not using Legilimency at all.”

Celia spread her hands. “Why would I waste energy on that against these two? Not like it’d get me anywhere.”

“Actually,” Severus cut in dryly, “Potter has never entirely mastered the art of Occlumency.”

The look on Celia’s face was priceless. Potter, on the other hand, looked furious.

“Then how did you …?” Celia began. “Never mind. Okay, I’ll use Legilimency.”

“It should be second nature, Celia,” Willow said. “It used to be.”

Celia shrugged. “Still is mostly.”

“Then when that one Death Eater turned to face you, why couldn’t you tell …? Oh, the mask?” Willow appeared to deflate a bit.

“Got it in one. No good line of sight at the eyes. Which begs the question why someone who used Legilimency to keep his followers in line put them in masks in the first place.” Celia looked to Severus curiously.

“The Dark Lord had no reason to be circumspect with his followers,” he explained with a shrug. “He would simply order us to look him in the eye when we would report to him. But you are quite correct that the masks do make it difficult to perform Legilimency on someone who is wearing one.”

“You still got yours?” Kennedy asked.

Severus felt his lip curl into a sneer. “Certainly not.”

“Damn,” she said. “Would’ve been useful for training.”

Severus had to admit she was correct. However, he was loathe to conjure a new one, even for such a purpose.

Celia appeared to sense his discomfort and none to gracefully changed the subject. “Maybe, but who knows if they’ll pull that again. In costume, I mean. More likely they’ll lay low or at least not advertise who they are. Speaking of, have you seen any strange people hanging around watching the kids in Hogsmeade?”

Willow was clearly not fooled but answered, “No. Not that that means anything. We can’t exactly do a locator spell unless we want to risk doing their work for them.”

And no doubt she would have said something earlier, had there been anything worth noting.

“But Celia could,” Kennedy pointed out somewhat resentfully. “At least then you’d know for sure whether or not it’s a Potential you’re here for.”

Celia shrugged. “Same reason Willow didn’t use it to find me: it’s got some serious limitations.”

“Yeah, but at least they’re all in one place,” the other Slayer retorted.

I have seen second-years too mature to pout like that.

Celia rolled her eyes. “Yes. One big, huge, labyrinthine stone place. We’d have to gather all the girls into the Great Hall or something and then light one of them up like a Christmas tree. A smelly, orange Christmas tree. Say bye-bye to anything like a normal adolescence after that.” She shook her head. “Not without a damned good reason to put her through that. It’s a stretch to think there’s no connection to this Death Eater business, but it is possible.”

“At least you’d know it really was a Potential you’re here after.”

Celia’s eyes flicked to the weapons wall. “Not a good enough reason. You run into any Bringers on patrol? ‘Cause that’s about what it would take to convince me.”

“What’s a Bringer?” Potter asked.

In answer, Willow Summoned a book from upstairs, opened it, and passed it over so that Potter and then Severus could see the illustration and description. What he saw in the pictures appalled him. These were not demons. They were, or had been, human.

“There’s been nothing to suggest they’d be showing up,” Celia said in a tone that sounded as if she were trying to be reassuring.

But whom is she trying to reassure? Us? Or herself?

“Not even that dream with the Turok-Hans, really.”

“Legilimency would be rather futile against such opponents,” Severus observed. “I believe I have new appreciation for the Dark Lord’s desire to have us mix in normal society.”

Kennedy pulled a face. “I don’t think the First was really interested in them being able to pass for normal. Surprising how little the lack of eyes slowed them down though.”

“So, combined with the utter lack of news from Spike, we’ve still got nothing,” Celia said.

“Pretty much,” Willow agreed.

“So, back to this kid you’re looking for. If she’s not a Potential Slayer, and it’s your other theory, you’re sure she’d have to be a relative?” Potter asked.

Willow looked thoughtful. “Every spell I know of would need one, yeah.”

“So a magical connection wouldn’t be enough,” he pressed.

Celia’s eyes flicked immediately to Potter’s forehead and Severus’ own arm. He felt his lip curl at the implication.

“That’s … something one of us should’ve thought of sooner,” Celia admitted. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but maybe.”

Whether or not it is possible is perhaps not as important as whether these supposed Death Eaters believe it to be so.

“So that’ll be more research,” Willow said.

“Don’t look so broken up about it, Red,” Kennedy teased. “You’re already asking Giles to send more books, aren’t you?”

“Am not!” the redhead snapped, then relented and added, “Yet. Right now it’s time for, you know, more training. Ready for round two?”

“And this time you’re pulling out all the stops, right?” Kennedy asked.

Celia looked wary, Severus thought, as she answered, “Right. No stops.”

~ ~ ~

She tracked both their movements carefully. Harry really wasn’t giving anything away, whatever Severus thought of his Occlumency, and she wasn’t about to put whole bunches of energy into figuring what Harry was going to do and get blindsided by Severus. This time, however, it seemed they were waiting to see what she would do.

Casting a shield with her free hand, she sent a Stunner, a Slicing Hex, and a Trip Jinx at Harry in quick succession, then reversed and sent a Confundus Charm, a Stinging Hex, and a Disarming Spell at Severus. Both deflected them all and retaliated, and things started to get interesting.

She couldn’t stay on the offensive and use their spells against each other. In fact, the spells were coming in so fast she couldn’t really take the time to care where they went once she blocked them.

Besides, Severus figured out how to work around that anyway. Figures.

Still, it was invigorating. Slayer speed worked in her favor for avoiding their spells or responding to block them. She couldn’t quite get past their shields though.

“This is supposed to be training, not playtime!” Willow called out.

“What?” Celia retorted. “It can’t be both?” She narrowly ducked a Stretching Jinx and deflected a Body-Bind.

“What if you had to get past them?” Willow insisted. “You don’t have time for this. You said you were going to pull out the stops – now do it!”

“I am! I’m stopless!” Celia yelled as she felt her wand yanked from her hand and knew it was Willow who’d done it.

That doesn’t change anything.

She cast Freezing Charms and Body-Binds at them both in rapid succession, then ducked and shielded herself against an onslaught of curses she didn’t even recognize. After they blocked her next attempts, she tried using the ropes already on the floor from all their attempts at Incarcerous to entrap them. Someone Vanished them, probably Severus.

“That’s a little better,” Willow yelled over the sounds of spells and shields colliding, “but still not good enough. Step it up already!”

Celia knew what Willow wanted her to do. She was probably right. Using spells the two wizards already knew how to counter wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She drew on the energy crackling around the room and channeled it through her hands.

Severus looked slightly less shocked than Harry, but then he’d seen her do the lightning bit before. Both of them threw up heavy shields that kept it out, but she was sure she could wear them down. They might be stronger magically, in fact she was almost sure of it, but she was certain her Slayer strength would tip the scales so that she could outlast them. Once she got through, she should be able to immobilize them both.

She should have known that wouldn’t be enough.

“Take their shields down, Celia,” Willow said loudly.

“No,” she answered. Not that way. “This will work!”

“Yeah, eventually! You won’t have time for that in a real fight,” her teacher argued. “Now turn it around and take them down!”

“I won’t,” Celia insisted.

“You will, or whomever you might be protecting, or trying to rescue, or whatever, will run out of time.”

“But that’s not happening now, and I won’t do it!” She could feel them both reinforcing their Shield Charms. It would be so easy. And so much faster. But I won’t!

“If you won’t use every tool you have, then you’re a liability!”

An image blossomed in her mind, the woman from her dreams begging Celia to protect her baby.

Celia let out a wordless cry and reversed the pull of the energy flowing through her, sucking the power out of both men’s shields. She could feel them struggling against the unfamiliar magic, but they weren’t doing it quite right. The power flowed into her with some resistance but not enough to do more than slow it down. She didn’t stop. The power was intoxicating, but she was determined not to let it win. Her stomach roiled as she sought to keep the two energy flows separate, and when first Harry and then Severus fell to the ground, she closed her fists and cut off the flow.

The rush was incredible.

I could find those bastards like this. Find them and make them pay. But not just for revenge. Stopping them would be right. Sending them to Azkaban. Then whatever their plan is, they couldn’t complete it. That couldn’t be wrong.

She looked at the two wizards. She could feel both of their energies surging through her, each with a very distinct flavor. Severus’, she already knew well. Harry’s felt oddly familiar, too, though she couldn’t say why. Something deep inside her hurt to see Severus crumpled on the floor.

If he knew, he’d want me to use his magic to stop them. And he’ll regenerate it. They both will. It might take a couple of days, but it would be worth it, wouldn’t it?

Willow was saying something. Celia couldn’t hear her and didn’t much care to either. She knew more or less what it had to be. Something about how having too much magic would make her reckless, impair her judgment, or some other nonsense.

A feeling of serenity swept over her. She knew she could push it away, but with it came Willow’s voice, and she was telling Celia things that she knew to be true. There was a dissonance in the magics she held. They weren’t hers. And running on stolen magics … that never ended well.

She can’t make me. Not if I fight it. But … she’s right.

Energy crackling along every nerve, Celia Summoned both wizards closer to her, knelt between their unconscious forms, placed her hands on their chests, and pushed the energy back into them both. In a flash, the rush was gone. Horror trickled in to take its place.

She sat back on her heels, forcing herself to be calm, and watched carefully as both men’s eyes flickered open. She pressed her hands against her knees to keep them from shaking and to keep herself from touching Severus’ face and sweeping that lock of hair from his eyes.

He’ll never want me to touch him again. He won’t want me anywhere near him.

“Are you happy?” she snarled over her shoulder as she felt Willow’s Imperius lift.

“Not really,” Willow answered sharply. “You took way too long and were much too hesitant.”

“Yeah, and I think I proved it was a bad idea! Look what you had to do! I wouldn’t hesitate over enemies,” she added in a low voice. “You know I wouldn’t.”

She and Willow stared at each other for a minute, neither saying anything, aloud or otherwise.

“They’ll need Restorative Draughts,” Celia continued, forcing her voice to sound steady. In control. She hoped. “Chocolate would be good, too. They’re coming around.”

Kennedy was way ahead of her, it seemed, as she was already coming over with two vials of Restorative Draught and two large bars from Honeyduke’s.

When Severus moved to sit up, Celia gave him a hand and pressed one of the vials into his hand, then helped him guide it to his lips. Next to her, Willow was doing the same for Harry.

Suddenly, Harry stood up and scrambled away, staring at Celia in horror. Before anyone could say another word to him, he Disapparated, probably to just outside the Gates of Hogwarts. Or maybe just as far away from her as he could get.

She looked back at Severus warily, but he didn’t pull away from her. In fact, there was a strange look burning deep in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine what it meant.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Like you just sucked the life out of me and then put it back in,” he replied with a glare that would have been more effective if he hadn’t still looked half out of it.

“Hey, at least she put it back,” Kennedy supplied with a wry grin.

Celia shot her a dirty look. “Do you feel like you can stand?” she asked him.

He nodded and grudgingly allowed her to help him rise. “If you could do that,” he said grimly, “why were they able to incapacitate you?”

“It just takes one lucky shot,” she answered.

“Could you not have drawn in the energy of the curse, as you did with our shields?”

Suck in that kind of pain? No, I think that’s one spell that’d never work for.

“I don’t think so,” she said, not bothering to explain. “And once I started locking everything down, I pretty much lost the ability to do much of anything else.”

She watched him closely, waiting for the inevitable retreat.

Maybe he’s just waiting until we don’t have an audience.

“I think this little exercise is done for today,” Willow said at last.

“Gee, you think?” Celia replied. “I’m not doing that again, Will. Not on anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

Willow acknowledged this with a gesture that neither accepted nor rejected her statement as they all walked toward the stairs, Celia absently picking up her wand along the way, and Severus following close behind her.

~ ~ ~

The meeting with Minerva was brief and to the point. Celia had passed the ambush simulation test, though Severus had only rated her efforts “A” for “Adequate.” Harry’s assertions that something about her was too dangerous to keep at Hogwarts were silenced with her reluctant promise to teach both him and Severus how to do and defend against what she’d done to them. She thought he still looked suspicious of her, and she couldn’t blame him.

As she returned to her cottage to do some grading before dinner, she found herself wondering why Severus didn’t seem to share that suspicion.

If anything, I’d’ve expected him to be more paranoid. Not less. Bad enough I did that to Harry, how could I do it to someone I’ve … slept with? Oh, screw it. At least in my own head I can call it making love, can’t I? And how much worse does that make it for me to turn around, take his magic, and almost not give it back?

She hung her cloak, cast the now-habitual scans around the cottage for any type of surveillance, and then just sat at her kitchen table to think.

The hero of the frickin’ wizarding world ran away from me. I think that’s a new record. Everybody else I’ve scared off has been a Muggle, and it was usually more about the Slayer stuff, even if they managed to rationalize it as something else.

There was something else going on here though. It wasn’t just about her being different. It was about her.

Obviously it’s not about the demon and vampire stuff. He might not have been crazy about my methods at first, but he’s gotten used to the idea. I think. It seemed like it. No, something felt very weird about his magical energy while I had it, and I think something felt weird to him when I put it back. He just looked too … creeped out.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t be around impressionable young wizards and witches with magic like that. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave this kid I’m supposed to be protecting. I still think it’s a Potential. That makes the most sense.

And it’s supposed to be me protecting her, right? I mean me specifically? None of the other Slayer-witches or regular Slayers have had that dream. That’s weird enough that it’s got to mean something. But what if this woman’s wrong? What if I really am just … wrong somehow?

She knew that feeling. Every Slayer currently alive knew it. Maybe every Slayer who’d ever lived had known it, but definitely all of them now, when there were way more of them than there were supposed to be. Giles said it was a natural fear, and one that kept Slayers firmly in touch with their humanity. Right now, it just made her feel dirty.

Pushing back from the table, she headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

~ ~ ~

As he patrolled that night, Severus found himself repeatedly distracted by thoughts of what had happened earlier.

Small surprise. It is not every day one has one’s magic pulled from them like a feather from a Jobberknoll.

“Ten points each from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,” he snarled at the couple he’d just found. “And get back to your dormitories before I add detentions as well!”

He ought, he supposed, to be furious with her for that. Possibly he should fear her as Potter clearly did. It was obvious from the looks she had given him while they met with Minerva and during dinner that she expected him to do so.

Another image intruded into his mind of the same woman trembling in his arms and allowing no one but him to touch her or feed her. Was it merely that he had seen her so nearly defenseless, then, that made it seem so impossible to fear her?

He thought of Hagrid’s dislocated elbow and dismissed the notion with a barely audible snort.

There may be some connection to that incident, but she was hardly defenseless even then.

Entering the Slytherin common room, he found surprisingly little mischief afoot. He wondered whether they were merely lying low after the mass detentions of the other day. After a few words to a group of fourth-years who would do better spending their time doing actual homework than animating something called a “graphic novel,” he left to return to his quarters and mark essays.

It was hardly surprising that she was not there when he arrived. Between her own patrolling and marking, he did not truly expect her for at least another hour or two. She had said, upon leaving the dinner table, that she would see him later, and so he was not concerned that she wouldn’t come.

When midnight had passed and he had finished his marking, he did begin to wonder. She’d been patrolling with Aurora, and surely one of them would have sent word if there had been trouble. He resisted the urge to send his Patronus to ask her when she planned to arrive and instead changed for bed and began reading the article she had interrupted the other night.

Several articles and an editorial later, he heard his Floo activate. She did not, however, come straight into the bedroom or go into the bathroom. Instead, what he heard sounded like books being pulled from the shelves and then the rustle of parchment being rapidly paged through. After several minutes, he succumbed to his curiosity and got up to investigate.

The sight that greeted him was startling. The books she had selected were unsurprising, given Potter’s earlier speculation about the possibility that either his scar or Severus’ Mark could be used in some way by these new Death Eaters. He had mentioned those specific books himself during their meeting with Minerva, though he had been through them many times already in hopes of finding a way to remove the last vestiges of the Dark Mark. No, what was strange was the way she was reading them, if one could call it reading. She had her hands over one of the books, and its pages were flipping rapidly beneath them. When she reached the end, the cover slammed shut, and she rested her hands on it, looking as though she were catching her breath.

“This, then, would be the ‘Rosenberg speed-reading method’ you mentioned?” he asked archly.

She didn’t startle, clearly having heard him enter, though she hadn’t acknowledged him. She merely nodded and said, “Be glad she worked out the bugs and the print’s still on the pages.”

I’m fairly certain I do not wish to know what she means by that.

Did she have any idea how seductive she appeared, standing at his desk in that unflattering dressing gown and wielding strange magic? His cock stirred as he remembered what she had looked like as they had sparred earlier. Graceful. Powerful.

“Do you plan to spend the night ‘speed-reading’ every Dark Arts book I own on the topics of magical branding and communication?”

“You should get some sleep.” She set aside the book she had just finished and picked up another. “You’re probably going to be exhausted tomorrow as it is.”

He walked over to the edge of his desk and looked at her carefully as she set down the second book without opening it and looked over the other titles, apparently trying to decide which to “read” next. Her eyes, he noticed, were rather red. He did not think that was due to what she had just been doing.

“I believe you are far more likely to be exhausted,” he said, catching hold of one of her wrists as she reached for yet another book.

She looked up at him, shock written on her features, but she didn’t pull away. “You’re the one who got the life sucked out of you today.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And yet I feel oddly energized. It seems you returned my magic with interest.”

She looked down at the desk.

He reached for her chin and lifted it, wondering what to say, how to express the thoughts that had plagued him all evening, the things he felt but didn’t understand. Seeing the darkness of which she was capable had made him want her more than he already did. Seeing her apparent shame over it made him want to shake her until she saw sense.

“Wielding the Dark Arts without becoming enslaved by them …” he began.

“Is insanely dangerous,” she finished, eyes narrowing. “You still shouldn’t probably be anywhere near me. I’m not safe.”

There. That was the word that had escaped him in his ruminations earlier. Even in the horrible moments when he’d felt his magic being drained and had known he was about to lose consciousness, he’d somehow known he was still safe with her.

That is easily the most absurd thing I have ever thought. And yet it is somehow true.

Rounding the desk corner, he bent and captured her lips in a bruising kiss. As she first startled and then responded, what surged through him wasn’t just lust, wasn’t just magic, but was somehow both and neither. Wanting more and unwilling to waste time walking back to the bedroom, he swept the books from his desk and pulled at the belt of her dressing gown.

She pulled back to say, “You realize you’re completely out of your mind.”

“Probably,” he growled as he pushed the dressing gown from her shoulders and grabbed her nightdress to pull it over her head.

By the time they crawled awkwardly off the desk, spent and gasping for breath, he was certain she was correct. He didn’t care.