Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise, and no profit is being made.
Beta: mrs_muggle
Author's Note: I've had 'Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps' stuck in my head for days, hence the writing of this. If anybody knows of an even catchier, more annoying song to get stuck in my head in its place, I'd appreciate suggestions :)
Brief and to the point guide to British Monopoly boards for the benefit of Americans, detailed enough to make sense of this fic and this fic only: Vine Street = New York Avenue; Marylebone Station = Pennsylvania Railroad; Mayfair = Boardwalk.

~~~

What had begun as a prelude to their first date had gone somewhat awry when Sirius had walked into the kitchen at entirely the wrong moment, disrupting what had been an enjoyable if rather awkward first kiss. Sirius sniggered when confronted with Tonks' schoolgirl giggle and Remus' blush and wringing hands.

"I wondered where you'd gone," he said to Remus, smirking.

Remus frowned. "I was... Um..."

"I noticed." Sirius' grin seemed to widen and grow more knowing and smug by the millisecond. "Sorry I interrupted," he added as a very unconvincing afterthought.

Tonks' huff suggested that she was as dubious about its authenticity as Remus. "Were you planning to bugger off any time soon?" she asked.

"Perhaps," said Sirius with exasperating flippancy, leading Remus to wonder whether a more infuriating word existed. "Definitely, once you help me get rid of Snape."

Remus and Tonks' faces fell into identical looks of total confusion.

"Oh," said Sirius, sounding a little baffled himself. "Didn't I mention that bit? I thought you might be willing to come and get rid of him for me."

Remus bitterly recalled the last few times Snape and Sirius had been left in a room together unsupervised. On a good day, they fought like particularly antagonistic siblings; on a bad day, they were as likely to lose their eyes as their tempers, and Kreacher was unlikely to survive the day uninjured.

"We should probably..." said Tonks. Remus nodded quickly, relieved that she had saved him the trouble of saying it. He held the door open for her to duck into the landing and onto the stairs ahead of him; he had intended it as a gentlemanly gesture, but since it left her to face the wrath of Severus Snape first, it didn’t come off as chivalrously as he had hoped. He probably further ruined his reputation as a gentleman when he failed to catch her when she lost her footing; Tonks tumbled down the last seven steps, and landed at Snape's feet.

"Ah," said Snape, looking even more irritable than usual, and regarding her with the kind of expression he normally reserved for dead slugs and Harry Potter. "Might I suggest, Nymphadora, that in the future you try and land on your own feet rather than mine?"

Remus hurried down the remainder of the steps and crouched at her side, earning a wolf-whistle from Sirius for his troubles. "Most men would be a little happier about a woman throwing herself at them," Sirius said, earning a withering glare from Remus. Tonks didn't react, which puzzled Remus, and he glanced over her, checking for injury.

"I'm fine," she said, sitting up and smiling at him, eyes twinkling with something that wasn't quite gratitude. He returned the smile, wishing they were somewhere less public so that he could resume kissing her. Tonks seemed to be thinking along the same lines, if the way her eyes kept flickering to his lips was anything to go by, but she soon returned to business. "What are you doing here?" she demanded of Snape.

Snape made a show of looking down his nose at them – not that that was much of a feat, since they were still sitting on the floor. "I bring intelligence from Dumbledore," he said.

"Oh?" Sirius seemed to forget hatred as genuine interest took over.

"For Moody's ears only," said Snape, somewhat haughtily. "I was told he would be here."

Tonks stood up, and pulled Remus up to stand at her side. Their eyes met, and he had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't the only person who wanted to suggest that Snape bugger off then. Tonks opened her mouth, perhaps to say it, but Sirius saved her the trouble.

Snape sighed. "Would that I could," he said, a note of definite regret in his voice. "Unfortunately for us all, the headmaster feels it advisable that I stay here for the evening, away from the rest of my brandy and Sybill's sherry, and out of Umbridge's hair. She seems to feel I ought to redecorate the dungeons. Words were exchanged."

"Ah." Their shared dislike of Umbridge was perhaps even stronger than their shared loathing of Snape, and Remus, Tonks and Sirius all frowned, pondering whose side they ought to be on. Snape took advantage of their silence to turn away, and sat down on the least uncomfortable chair and Conjured a glass.

"I believe you have Firewhisky here somewhere," he said to Sirius, who nodded enthusiastically before Conjuring a glass of his own and Summoning a bottle. Snape sniffed it. "It'll do."

It was the closest they had ever come to getting on. Naturally, the illusion of a ceasefire was shattered in moments.

"Oh yes," said Snape. "I'd forgotten your valuable contributions to the Order's cause. Do you really feel that spending our funds on alcohol constitutes helping?"

Sirius' response was immediate and biting, but Remus didn't hear it, because Tonks had initiated a round of flirting with their eyebrows, and he was very taken with the idea. He was dragged abruptly back to reality by an outburst in which Sirius used four expletives he had never heard before and rounded up by calling Snape something that caused Kreacher to drop the picture frame he was dusting.

Over the sounds of Kreacher's dismayed murmurings as he apologised to the subject of the portrait (apparently a much greater credit to the Black name than either Sirius or Tonks), Remus debated how best to calm them down. Tonks saved him the trouble.

"Shut the fuck up!" she cried.

It wasn't, perhaps, the approach he would have favoured, and it lacked something in the way of finesse. It was effective, though: Snape appeared dumbfounded that an ex-student had dared to talk to him like that, while Sirius sniggered at the rare sight of Snape losing his self-control.

The silence lasted, perhaps, a second, before Sirius muttered something about mother-fucking Death Eaters who you shouldn't give the time of bloody day far less trust, and their bickering began again, sinking to a new level of profanity. Tonks rolled her eyes, and then met Remus'.

There was, he thought, only one thing to do. He Conjured a glass for himself, and offered another to Tonks. She accepted it, and poured two generous measures. She downed much of hers in one, and as a testament to just how irritated he was, Remus followed her example.

In hindsight, while the second drink was probably an inevitability, pouring the third was something of a mistake. Drinking the third was downright stupid. Agreeing to Sirius' suggestion of opening the elf-made wine when they ran out of Firewhisky was, perhaps, the most unwise decision of all.

~~~

"So," said Sirius, after what Remus thought had been the sixth drink, though his ability to count was beginning to get a little fuzzy. Not unlike the room, actually. "You were claiming to have intelligence," he continued, though his smug expression suggested that he was remembering who had done better in OWLs.

Snape placed his own glass on the table, and spoke without slurring, which Remus felt was rather bloody typical. "I never divulge information," he said, "even when I have been drinking."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "I never pass on information," he countered, and placed his glass firmly on the table, eyes glinting with a challenge.

Remus rolled his eyes, vaguely recognising the look. "Do I detect a drinking game?" he asked, for Tonks' benefit, since she had been looking confused.

Snape looked annoyingly superior. "I never play drinking games," he said. But as it turned out, they were very few other things he had never done....

~~~

"I never kissed a woman," said Tonks, smirking as she was spared a seventh glass.

"Moony has," Sirius sniggered, as he downed his own drink (thirteenth? Remus wasn't quite sure) with a hint of smugness, which became nausea when Snape also drank (his fourteenth?), albeit far more slowly and with an air of authority, which he undermined by sloshing a little Butterbeer onto his pristine black robes.

Remus avoided the inevitable comeback, 'I never kissed a bloke,' partly out of chivalry, partly because he wouldn't be that unoriginal, and mainly because he was a little disturbed by the number of things Sirius (and Snape) claimed to have done, and wasn't sure he was ready to risk adding to the list of shocks. "I never fancied a teacher," he said instead, because it had been a favourite one when he was at school, and only realised belatedly that half of the people present were teachers.

Tonks reminded him of the fact, eyes roving over him, and saying, "Do ex-teachers count?"

Remus grinned, and Snape looked sickened, which was surely a bonus. "They do," Remus told her, and Tonks made something of a show of downing her drink. Sirius did his best to down his own without being seen, failed, and was forced to mutter something about Charity Burbage's nice smile and nicer legs.

Tonks gave a drunken snigger.

"If I recall," said Remus, "he seemed to get over her eventually, but then found that Rosmerta was just as immune to his charms."

Sirius glared at him, and mouthed something that might have been 'Thalia Hughes,' though had Tonks noticed and asked, Remus would have tried to pass it off as a sarcastic thank you. The words had the intended effect, and not much wanting to discuss the object of his thirteen-year-old self's affections with a woman who had, so far, only seen him in charge of both faculties and brain power, Remus shut up despite Tonks' attempts to make him talk.

"She and Rosmerta were in the minority," Remus told her, hoping to gain some brownie points back in order to keep Sirius' mouth firmly shut.

It seemed to work, and Sirius raised his drink to him, though not without a warning, "I never did anything at school that I wouldn't want my girlfriend – or boyfriend, sorry Tonks – to know about," before smirking and drinking, echoed by Snape.

Remus and Tonks glanced at each other, both dithering between awkwardness and coyness, and then both drank, leaving Remus wishing more than ever that they were alone so that he could attempt to cajole her secrets from her.

She appeared to have read his mind. "My lips are sealed," she informed him, grinning widely and rather proving her statement false. "Figuratively," she added before he could point this out.

Sirius poured new shots for everybody, and began to speak with only minimal slurring. "I never wash my hair," he said, looking very pointedly at Snape.

"Oh f..." began Snape, but he was cut off by the portrait in the hall screaming, announcing the appearance of a newcomer. A moment later, Moody shuffled into the room.

He looked around, sniffed as he took in a situation that was about as far from constant vigilance as it was possible to get, and then focussed his glare on Tonks. "I would have expected better of you, girl," he said, expression the epitome of disapproval. "And I thought you two had enough brain cells between you to have a bit more sense," he added, gesturing at Remus and Snape.

Sirius looked quite offended. Mad-Eye ignored him.

"Have you any idea how stupid it is to drink anything you found here?" he demanded, gesturing at the dusty wine bottle, which lay empty and abandoned on the floor near Tonks' left foot. "Could be anything. I've known far better wizards than the likes of you lot drink potions that Death Eaters had slipped into their glasses while their heads were turned."

"They were sealed," said Tonks, who was the only one who dared to interrupt.

Mad-Eye ignored her, and gestured to the assortment of bottles that stood on the table. "Did your mothers never tell you not to mix your drinks?" he demanded. "And I assume you haven't been drinking enough water."

"But at least we ate first," said Tonks, quite untruthfully.

Mad-Eye continued as though she hadn't spoken. "I don't suppose you thought to check that another Order member was free to take over if anything happened when you lot were several sheets to the wind? As it happens, everybody else is either on guard duty or at work, you idiots. I never thought any of you were this stupid."

Sirius took a shot.

Moody glared, and his expression darkened as he turned to glare at Sirius and Snape. The rant entered the disturbing realms of the dangers of drunken pillow talk, and Remus shuddered.

Tonks leaned across and nudged him, and whispered, "If we sneak away now, maybe he won't notice."

They got to their feet, very unsteadily, and Tonks staggered a few steps across the room before colliding with the coffee table and drawing Mad-Eye's attention.

"Seemed like a good idea to go home and sleep it off," she said, looking hopefully at Moody, who didn't appear to be convinced.

"You'll Splinch if you try," he told her.

"We'll make a Portkey," said Remus.

Mad-Eye frowned. "Where do you come into this?" he demanded.

Remus swallowed. "Somebody should see her home," he said. "In case of... Dementors."

"And Death Eaters," added Tonks, not pointing out that she hardly needed to be seen home.

Mad-Eye frowned. "Perhaps," he said, reminding Remus of what an annoying word that was.

"Definitely," said Tonks.

"Somebody should take care of her," said Moody after a moment's thought, "but the somebody should be sober."

Tonks staggered to the fireplace, clung to the mantelpiece when she reached it, and groped for Floo powder. "I'll be fine," she said, though she smiled gratefully at Moody.

"I'll make sure she's okay," said Remus, far from subtly.

Sirius sniggered. Snape gave a contemptuous sniff. Mad-Eye rolled his eyes. Tonks grinned, grabbed Remus' hand, and they stepped into the fireplace.

~~~

They stumbled into Tonks' flat, giggling, and perhaps would have resumed their kissing had Remus not stumbled over a tatty pink rug that had seen much better days.

"Bugger," muttered Tonks. "I knew I should've moved that."

"Might have been a good idea."

Tonks sat down and awkwardly offered him a cup of tea.

"Large glass of water would probably be wise," he said, briefly wondering just how bad a hangover he was in for. He decided that one glass was unlikely to make much difference, but took the full pint glass she Conjured for him anyway.

"What do you want to do?" she asked, after an awkward moment of sipping water and staring at each other.

He shrugged; it wasn't as though he'd had a lot of time to ponder what they'd do once they'd actually escaped Grimmauld Place. "It's probably a bit late for dinner."

"Just a little." She frowned. "Can you cook?"

Remus shook his head.

"Damn." She glanced thoughtfully around, and her eyes lit up at the sight of her kitchen door. "I have crisps," she suggested.

Remus considered and then nodded, and she Summoned them, her rueful smile saying that they would have to do. He offered her her pick of flavour, and then regretted it when it left him with the smoky bacon ones. Still, they were slightly preferable to starvation, and he managed to open the packet without grimacing. "Thanks," he said, slightly indistinctly, around a mouthful of crisps. He swallowed. "So. What do you plan to do with me?"

Tonks smirked. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

"Indeed?" he said, fighting to appear calm rather than linger on whatever it was she had meant by that.

"Have you ever played Monopoly?"

~~~

"Why Monopoly?" he asked, trying to sound casual, as she retrieved the box from a cupboard and began to set it up.

She shrugged. "First thing I thought of."

"Really?"

Tonks nodded. "Also, not many wizards know it, so I thought I could maybe explain the rules to you and spare us this awkward conversation."

"My Dad's Muggleborn too," he explained, reaching for the box and separating the bank notes into piles. Tonks set the Chance cards in their place, and then made a grab for the silver dog, Transfiguring it to resemble Padfoot.

"Which do you want?" she asked, offering the other counters. Remus selected the iron. "Interesting," said Tonks, without explaining why. "Can I be the banker?"

~~~

Their game lagged to begin with, but became far more interesting after Tonks muttered, "Oh sod this. Accio Firewhisky!" after her dog was sent to jail for the third time. She seemed to enjoy the game more when the further alcohol began to have a quite severe numbing effect on their common sense.

She grinned when Remus' iron landed on Mayfair, which she had purchased on her previous trip around the board. He sorted through his money with a frown; he was usually reasonably good at Monopoly, but sometimes the luck ran one way, and he had a nasty feeling this was going to turn out to be one of those times.

"This is nice," he said, in an attempt to distract himself from the fact that he was losing.

Tonks blinked, looking up from her money. She had been counting it and looking smug, but she put it down and met his gaze. "I thought so too."

Remus grinned, and when she returned the smile, he sincerely hoped it wasn't the alcohol talking.

"You know," Tonks said a long pause later, leaning forward and touching his hand, "Sirius once told me about a variant of this he played when he was very, very drunk."

She frowned, perhaps wondering what on Earth had prompted her to tell him that, which intrigued him, maybe more than her words had already done, although given that it was Sirius' idea, he was inclined to panic. "Oh?"

"It involved being able to remove items of clothing as an alternative to paying rent…." Her smile was probably intended as vaguely suggestive, but he interpreted it as a challenge.

Remus looked thoughtful. It wasn't something he would normally consider, as the sane, sober part of his head was trying to remind him; on the other hand, he was extremely drunk, and he wasn't a Marauder for nothing.

In answer, he put the money back down on the table and removed his jumper. Tonks grinned. She looked thoughtful, and then she seemed to reach a decision.

"Your go," he reminded her, colouring under a gaze that suddenly seemed almost predatory. Tonks rolled the dice and landed on Free Parking. His next go was luckier, and he picked up a Get Out of Jail Free card. When Tonks was sent back to jail on her next go, he smirked. "What’s it worth?" he asked her, waving the card at her and eyeing her pile of money, which was significantly larger than his.

Tonks looked thoughtfully at her money and then at him. "I don't know. Maybe I'll just keep trying to roll doubles."

Remus frowned, inexplicably annoyed, and she grinned.

"Okay, okay. I'll remove one item of clothing if you hand the card over."

Remus paused, wondering if he had really just suggested that a woman remove clothing on their first date (even if it was her fault they were playing the game in the first place). He looked her up and down slowly, wondering if he'd gone mad, and found himself nodding. "Fair enough."

Tonks considered for a moment, then slowly reached for the hem of her top. Remus let out a guh that made him sound more than a little like a troll as she pulled it over her head, tossed it to the ground behind her, and looked at him expectantly.

"Card?"

He handed it over, trying not to study her cleavage (he'd been vaguely in the vicinity of her chest before, but her breasts seemed suddenly incredibly interesting when he was drunk and she was shirtless and a little out of his reach).

"Thank you." She reached over and moved the miniature Padfoot from In Jail to Just Visiting, seemingly unaware that Remus was staring at her. "Your go."

With a great effort, Remus dragged his eyes away from her bra, rolled one die then the other, and joined her in Just Visiting. The miniature dog shuffled away from the iron with an expression of distaste before Tonks pointed her wand at it and moved it to Marylebone Station.

"I own that," said Remus, grinning.

Tonks raised a hand to her bra strap, one lip caught between her teeth and her expression apparently thoughtful, though her eyes twinkled. Remus watched as one hand moved idly round to her back, before she shook her head and picked up her pile of money. "Here." She handed over a banknote and looked frankly flattered when he had to concentrate extremely hard on taking his turn instead of eyeing her chest.

Her smile widened when her next move took her dog to Vine Street. "You were collecting that group, weren't you?"

Remus frowned. He had been, and he knew what a tactical advantage he would have if he could build property on the orange squares. If her expression was anything to go by, she knew it too, and she was well aware of just how tempting that was. Tonks, he suspected, knew both him and Monopoly-based probabilities a little too well.

"What's it worth?" she demanded, leaning forward a touch so that he couldn't avoid looking at her chest. He hoped that she was getting into the game, because if it meant anything more than that... It was a slightly terrifying, though incredibly appealing, prospect.

"I… Uh…." Remus considered his shoes and socks, but that didn't quite seem fair given that she was currently minus her top, and he did like to play to the rules of games. He summoned up every ounce of Gryffindor courage he possessed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving only his trousers plus the shoes and socks to protect his dignity. He crossed his arms carefully so as to best cover his torso, but Tonks's amused smile suggested that he wasn't doing a very good job.

"You look pretty good like that, you know," Tonks said.

Remus coloured as her eyes lingered on his chest and he hurriedly claimed the card for Vine Street before rolling the dice again and smiling when he rolled a double five. He felt Tonks's gaze on him as he moved his iron forward, took his next roll of the dice, and sighed when he found himself back at Mayfair. Tonks had built a hotel there since his last visit, and when he met her eyes, they gleamed in challenge.

"The last time I checked, I owned that."

Frantically, he counted his money; he didn't have the two-thousand pound rent. Either he would have to mortgage much of what he owned, or…. He looked at Tonks again and she grinned. "You should know that I don't make a habit of removing my trousers on a first date," he told her.

"Oh. Just your shirt, then?"

"Yes," said Remus, "that's exactly what I meant."

He picked up the lid of the box and placed it carefully over his lap. Then, carefully avoiding her gaze, he removed his trousers. Tonks grinned. "Cheat," she said, glancing at the box lid.

"Not technically."

"Whatever. It's my turn." Tonks reached for the dice, then moved the dog and took a Community Chest card. "It's your birthday," she read. "Collect ten pounds from each player."

Remus looked at her. Something, maybe his inner Sirius, screamed at him to take advantage of the situation, spin her some line about money being a very impersonal gift, and offer to give her something better. The sober part of his brain intervened, telling him not to be rash, or stupid, and for Merlin's sake not to rush into something that they'd certainly both regret. She frowned, obviously wondering what was causing the delay.

"Remus? You okay?"

He nodded, apologised, and coloured as he counted out one pound notes. He ran out at eight, and said, "You win, I think."

"Oh." She looked almost disappointed, and then raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to assume that you're still wearing something under the box lid," she said.

Remus nodded, mind boggling, and wondered how on Earth he'd managed to end up wearing boxers and a Monopoly box, and discussing his underwear.

"All's not entirely lost, then."

Their eyes met; hers glittered in unspoken challenge, his screwed shut as he panicked. When he opened his eyes again, she had shuffled a little closer and she leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met, and her hands found his shoulders, one lingering at the nape of his neck, the other moving to cup his cheek. Remus continued to panic for a second, then his own hands settled at her bare waist. Tonks shuffled closer to him, her lips parted, and she gave a contended sigh against his mouth as he slid his fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss.

When they finally moved apart, Tonks grinned at him. "You ought to know," she told him between shallow breaths, "that I don't make a habit of toplessly snogging blokes on the first date. Or of using board games as a seduction technique."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Is this seduction?"

"Yes."

"Ah," said Remus, grinning inwardly until a rather disconcerting thought occurred. "I'm probably a bit too drunk."

The level of disappointment on her face was, Remus thought, incredibly flattering, and he really hoped it wasn't the alcohol talking. Her face cleared, and she said, "We could use a Sober-Up potion."

Remus frowned. "We'll feel even worse in the morning."

"Perhaps," she said, though she didn't seem entirely convinced, and a flirty glint in her eye led Remus to wonder whether he hadn't passed judgement on the word 'perhaps' too soon.

"Definitely," he said, even so.

"Remus," said Tonks, her voice the same tone one might use when informing a toddler that most Death Eaters weren't very nice, "we're already going to wake up with the mother of all hangovers. I don't think delaying the effects now is going to make all that much difference."

It was a good point, and Remus said as much. Tonks smiled, stood up and left the room, returning a moment later clutching a bottle of lilac liquid, which steamed somewhat ominously. She poured two glasses and set them on the table to steam to themselves, then shuffled to his end of the sofa and reached for him.

"Are you sure about this?" Remus asked, pulling away while he was still in enough control of his faculties to think about it, and picking up his glass so that he had something to do with his hand that wasn't touching her.

Tonks nodded. "Yes, actually. Which is odd. I never do this on a first date."

She did look a little uncomfortable, and Remus wondered how best to put her at her ease. Only one way sprang to mind, and he leaned forward and very deliberately set his glass down. "First time for everything, if you're sure you want to."

"Oh, I do," said Tonks, grinning. She picked up her own glass of potion and swigged, before turning to face him with a restored air of confidence. "Shall we get on with it?"

Remus drank his own potion and waited a moment for the fogginess in his head to clear, and nodded. "All right then," he said, and they did.

~~~

"I... Er... Was... Did you...?" he began some time later, when they were lying on top of the Monopoly board minus both clothes and box lids.

Tonks raised her head from his shoulder with some effort. "Pass Go and collect two hundred pounds?" she asked, attempting to look fairly innocent and ruining it by sniggering. "Twice."

"Oh." He smirked. "Good," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

Tonks snuggled into his side. "Can we move?" she asked after a moment. "There's a miniature iron digging into my back."

Remus Banished the game instead, nuzzled her hair and tightened his hold on her, and let his eyes drift closed.

~~~

He awoke the next morning with a dry throat and the worst headache he had ever had. To add insult to injury, he seemed to have a backache from lying on the floor, and his arm had gone numb where Tonks had been lying on it. He groaned, turning his head to glance at the clock, and immediately regretted both the movement and the attempt to open his eyes.

"Nergh," said Tonks, apparently regretting her own attempts at life just as much as he was. "I'm never drinking again. And no, before you ask, I wasn't suggesting another drinking game."

"Hmm," said Remus, because forming actual words seemed a little too difficult. He paused, willing his brain to work, and then said, "Do you have anything you need to do today?"

"Not 'til this evening, then I have to do guard duty. But I'm not sure I'm up to moving until then."

He hmmed sympathetically. "Are you free next week? I might be able to cope with bright lights again by then."

He felt Tonks smile against his arm. "Monday evening?"

Remus agreed. "We could even leave the house this time," he suggested. "Although I'll admit I rather liked the bit after the Monopoly, if you fancied bringing your collection of board games with you." He glanced at her, checking that he hadn't overstepped the mark.

Her expression suggested that she had never liked an idea more. Remus agreed, which was a relief because having another shot was probably an extremely bad idea.

"Perhaps," said Tonks, mock-casually, and Remus decided that it was fast becoming his favourite word.

"Definitely," he replied, predictably, and she grinned.