Jily oneshots

Three Phases of a Heist

done by jamespotterthefirst on fanfiction.net

I.

"He's really fit," the one in the blue gown whispers conspiratorially to her companion. Except, she might as well be shouting it since James can still hear her, even over the many conversations throughout the gallery.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the blonde girl eye him, her nose wrinkled in disapproval. "Maybe so," she allows before adding, "But a museum guard? I wouldn't fall so low even for a mighty good shag."

Surprisingly, his pride is intact at the words. James takes solace in the fact that even if he was a security guard in reality, at least he'd hold an honest, even commendable job. The same could not be said for the hundreds of politicians and socialites infesting the gala that evening. The same could not be said for even him or his mates.

At the very least, he had the satisfaction of being right once again. "Told you," he murmurs into his headset. "I'm too damnably handsome to be inconspicuous, even in this ugly uniform."

"The blonde one said she wouldn't shag you, though," Sirius' voice responds without missing a beat.

"She still said I would be mighty good shag," James reminds him, mindful to keep his voice low in case anyone nearby is listening. Most of the attendants are too enraptured in their own conversations, their laughter far too loud to be genuine.

"She's obviously never slept with you then," the other says in response. James can hear the distant clicking of keyboard keys, a sure sign Sirius is keeping to his portion of the plan.

"And you have?"

"Will you two shut up for two minutes," a third, very disgruntled voice cuts through like a whip.

"Sorry Moony," James mutters for the third time that evening.

Sirius, however, ignores Remus and begins to reply something cheeky and quite commendable as far as comebacks go, one that includes the extensive list of James's exes, but James only catches the first part because his attention is stolen away by someone bumping into his shoulder.

"Sorry," a hushed voice says, almost inaudible in the chatter of the crowded gallery. He doesn't even sway, her small frame barely emitting any force against his much taller, much stronger body. Nevertheless, completely caught off guard by the floral scent she brings with her and her warm arm against his, he feels as though he is hit by an electric current.

"That's quite—" he begins to say when he recovers, which takes him a millisecond too long for his liking. But before he can get the word "alright" out, she is gone, moving away without a backward glance. James is left behind staring stupidly at her retreating form, her long, red hair rippling in waves behind her as she moves through the crowd.

"Wow," Sirius says into his ear and James almost forgets he is there. "She wouldn't want to shag you either, mate."

James also forgets for a second that Sirius is in charge of the surveillance cameras and that the prat can see his every move. "Not my type anyway," James mutters into the headset.

Sirius lets out his typical bark-like laughter, much to Remus's dismay. "I saw your face. "

"Yes, well, I didn't even see hers." He cringes, unsure why he says the words, particularly since they sound so flat and above all, quite defensive.

"I did," the other responds smugly. "Camera seven by the contemporary art. She is definitely better looking than Blue Gown."

Remus' voice interrupts them once more, his tone business like. "Alright, alarm is set to go off in twenty minutes. Is that enough time to nick it, Prongs?"