She was alluring, powerful, exquisite. She was beautiful…objectively, empirically beautiful, no question about it. Anyone who didn’t think so was a first-rate idiot – at least, that’s what Sirius thought. But then again, he might have been a bit biased.
Sirius Black was in love. Since the day he first laid eyes on her, he could see nobody and nothing else; those other things simply didn’t exist. All that mattered was Brigitte. Well, maybe James mattered, too – a little – but James spent half his attention these days on Lily, and anyway James just didn’t understand about Brigitte. Sodding halfwit.
None of them understood – James, Remus, and Peter – they just didn’t get it. They all thought he’d gone round the twist. Well, fine. He didn’t need their approval. James could have his Lily, and Remus could have his books, and Peter could have…whatever it was that he had, poor kid. Point was, they couldn’t see real beauty when it was staring them straight in the face.
She was, truly, a work of art. Smooth and voluptuous and radiant and – oh, that form! That flawless body; those glorious curves. Never mind what it was like to look at her – Sirius couldn’t keep his hands off her for more than five minutes at a time.
She was alternately warm and cold, positively oozed attitude, commanded the attention of every man around her, and she purred like the most ferocious kitten he’d ever heard in his life. Completely untamed, but belonging entirely to him.
The best part was how it made him feel: exhilarated, free, rebellious. What would his mother have said if she’d seen her firstborn son with the likes of Brigitte? The thought of it made him grin with uncontrollable satisfaction.
He didn’t give a rat’s arse what they thought, anyway. They had Regulus to fulfill all their hopes and dreams – and Sirius to break them. He was only sorry he’d moved out before Brigitte entered his life. He would have loved to show her off to his parents. But, as luck would have it, he moved out of that hellhole nearly three years ago. Nasty place – not fit for such a pristine beauty.
The Potters didn’t mind when he brought her over to their place. They’d even had the good manners to admire her splendor, while James just stood there rolling his eyes. He thought he was so clever, Prongsie did. Narrow-minded git.
Sirius snuck out of the Potters’ house, on this particular occasion, while James was busy writing to Lily (or engaged in some similarly stupid endeavor). It was the summer after their last year at school, and Sirius wasn’t going to sit around idly while the world fell spectacularly to pieces. Soon they were going to get into the real hell, and Sirius wasn’t going to waste this time when he could be running his fingers along her perfect frame and –
“Oi!” James’ irritated voice burst through the doorway of the shed. “I knew I’d find you in here.”
Sirius ignored him pointedly.
“Oh, excuse me.” James’ goblet ranneth over with sarcasm. “Would the two of you like some privacy?”
“Yeah, plus you’re ruining the aesthetics in here.”
“Look, I’ve told you, you’re not spending the entire summer this way.” James pointed a warning finger at his friend.
“And what am I supposed to do while you’re in here feeding your obsession with this thing.”
This thing? Oh, the injustice! The indignity!
“You’re one to talk about obsession. Speaking of which, go see Lily if you’re bored.”
“You know full well she’s on holiday for the next two weeks with her family.”
“Not my problem.” Sirius turned his attention back to Brigitte and commenced his ritualistic examination for flaws, dust, and fingerprints.
James cleared his throat, and even without looking Sirius could tell he was crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. He could sense his friend was beginning to gloat about something; it was the kind of thing that emitted its own sound, on a frequency that only Sirius could hear.
“You know,” said James in signature superior fashion, “I’m beginning to think you don’t even know how to work this thing. All you ever do is come in here and gawk at it.”
“Well, you never give me a chance, do you? It’s the kind of thing you’ve got to work up to. You can’t just use something like this – you’ve got to respect it! I was having a moment, Prongs. A moment!”
As if to prove that he did indeed know how to work it, Sirius climbed astride his beloved motorbike.
“A number of jokes about riding things come to mind,” drawled James, “but I really don’t want to encourage you.”
“Admit it, Prongs, I look good on this thing.” Sirius ran his hands over the gleaming handlebars.
“Oh, yeah. If I were into blokes, I’d be all over this right now.”
“Who ever said you weren’t into blokes?”
James made a friendly hand gesture. “So are we going to see Moony and Wormtail, or do I have to explain to them that you couldn’t make it because you’re snogging a piece of metal?”
“Her name is Brigitte, you uncultured git, and she is a vision in chrome, and I love her.” He spoke her name with a kind of reverence bordering on fanaticism.
“You’re mental.” James turned on his heel to leave the shed. “Fifteen minutes, mate. If you’re still in here, I’m using force.”
“Hey, James,” said Sirius in an offhanded manner, a smug look upon his face, “I reckon we could work out how to make her fly.”
James stopped abruptly. Sirius knew that would get his attention. Aside from James’ love of anything to do with flying, he had never been one to turn down a challenge – or an opportunity to show how brilliant he was. Nor had Sirius, for that matter. And if anyone had the talent to make a Muggle motorbike fly, it was the pair of them.
James turned his head slightly, so that one edge of his glasses came into view. “Really?” He tried and failed to keep the intrigue out of his voice.
“Would I jest about such a thing?” Sirius brushed a speck of dust off Brigitte’s front fender.
James turned to face his friend again. “Alright…but I get to fly it myself. No way I’m putting my arms around your waist, under any circumstances.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
James pulled up an old trunk and sat down upon it as Sirius jumped off the bike. "So, what do you think we need to do?"
Sirius noticed the interested look in James’ eyes as he assessed the bike’s various components. So maybe his best mate wasn’t a complete idiot. Sirius was certain that, once James took the time to understand her, he too would fall absurdly in love with Brigitte.
But he would never love her like Sirius did. And really, there were few things on earth more powerful than the love of a boy for his motorcycle.
A/N: This was written for Jellyman's Love Story Challenge at TGS. The instructions were to write a different kind of love story, i.e. staying away from the typically uber-romanticized and/or angsty way love is often portrayed in fanfiction. I know I did a lot of intense, mushy stuff in the beginning of this fic, but I'm hoping my reasons for writing it that way were apparent.
Your thoughts in a review would be fantastic - and bonus points if you can guess the real-life actress/ icon after whom Sirius named his motorbike! (It should be pretty obvious, I think.) Thanks for reading!