Prompt: Stane/female - on the Bus
Word count: 376
Summary: She flagged down the bus every Tuesday.
A/N: Written for hp_humpdrabbles, though it's sadly lacking with real humping.
She flagged down the bus every Tuesday. Going to London one Tuesday, coming back to the little hamlet Stan could never remember the name of.
The first few weeks, she was able to pay, though each time it took her longer and longer to count out the Knuts.
“Visiting me father,” she’d tell him on her way to London.
“Visiting me mam,” she’d tell him on the way back.
“Can’t they pay none?” he asked her. She would just look at him with sad eyes, and he could tell her story without her saying a word. Her mam was likely a hedge witch, eking out barely enough to live on. Her father was a city man, maybe poor, but more likely rich and a snob and she was from the wrong side of the blankets. Perhaps he wasn’t well. Her mam probably was poorly as well.
She was the dutiful daughter, stuck in between.
One day she flagged down the bus, and her fingers scrabbled desperately at the bottom of her purse. However, full fare clanged into the box, and he smiled at her kindly with a finger at her lips so she wouldn’t say anything to Erne.
Like always, he checked on the long-ride passengers, and asked if they wanted anything. She had always, faithfully, said no in that soft voice that meant she had no money to pay for extras. He always stayed to talk for a few minutes, though, sitting on the bed next to her only after she patted the spot invitingly. Every Tuesday, he took his fifteen minute break here with her. Erne had taken to teasing him after, but it was all innocent.
It was all innocent, until that day. He had barely greeted her when her lips were on his.
It took Stan several minutes to pull away. “I ain’t paid so you’d kiss me,” he told her, framing her face with his hands. She was younger than him, and prettier than a little wild flower. Her hair was soft and brown and he’d wanted to touch it since the first time she’d come on the bus. She wasn’t some whore to pay her way with kisses and her body.
“I know,” she replied. “That’s why I’m kissing ye.”