Moar Excerpt - and then no more because I need to stop reworking and just post the stupid thing
"I didn't know Elizabeth Taylor was your mother, Potter."
His brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Muggle actress," Lily explained. "You wouldn't know her." James looked at her suspiciously, and she rolled her eyes. "Merlin's sake, it wasn't an insult. I like your mother, and Elizabeth Taylor is very iconic and attractive."
"I get told I look like my mother, you know."
"Trust me," said Lily, with a snort. "You don't."
She had finished washing the glasses – it wasn't a task that required much time, after all – and stood back to scrutinise James as he dried them, possibly hoping to spot an error, as if she thought James might attempt to dry glasses by licking them, or dropping them to the floor. She reached down to scratch the outside of her thigh, and James was reminded of something that had occurred to him earlier.
"You've got legs, Evans." It was not a compliment, merely a statement of fact. She looked down at her legs and pretended to be flabbergasted by the announcement.
"Really?" Her mouth dropped open in feigned surprise. "Shit, Potter, I've been wondering what these things are for years."
There was sarcasm, his old friend. Resorting to sarcasm was classic Lily Evans. He was used to getting that from her. He much preferred it to the weariness and the despondency, because there was something about a dejected Lily Evans that made him uncomfortable. He didn't like it at all. He enjoyed making her angry, and he enjoyed embarrassing her, and he didn't even mind it when she refused to speak to him, but he didn't like it when she was sad. For whatever reason, it made him feel sad. He didn't know why. He tried to smirk in satisfaction, but it looked more like a genuine smile.
"What happened to your shorts?" he asked, for want of anything else to say, and because he was curious. She lowered her eyebrows suspiciously, and folded her arms across her chest. He didn't understand women at all.
"I spilled hazelnut spread on them," she said, and her tone was defensive.
"Looks like you've shit yourself."
The eyebrows went right back up again. "Frontways, Potter?
"You can do things like that," he replied, with a shrug. "When you're magic."
