@wolfstarmicrofic April 5, word count 997

The airport was crowded, smelling of fast food and bad coffee. Sirius was so glad he got to bypass most of the rabble on his way to his private jet; the perks of being a Black. The sooner he was belted into his plush leather chair with a glass of champagne in one hand and a plate of caviar with all the accoutrements, the better.  

“Right this way, Mr Black,” an airport employee directed him, and Sirius breathed a sigh of relief as he walked into his own private lounge, the heavy doors blocking out the noise of the main airport. 

His captain came in after he’d been sitting a while and told him that their flight was delayed as the fog up in Scotland was too thick to land in. The captain promised to send the new steward down to his lounge while he waited. 

The new steward stumbled into the room, his shirt sticking out at the back and his tie sloppily tied. 

“Hi, Mr Black, my name is Remus. Is there anything I can get you?” Remus asked, a fake smile plastered onto his face. Sirius rolled his eyes. This was going to be a long wait. 

“No, thank you.”

“Right then,” and Remus just stood there awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs. 

“Isn’t there something you should be doing?” Sirius asked irritably. 

“Nope, Captain told me to stay in here and do whatever you asked,” Remus shrugged. All Sirius could think was that it was a good thing that his parents weren’t there, as Remus would be out of a job faster than his lanky legs could walk him out of the door. 

“Sit,” Sirius ordered, waving a lazy hand at the chair opposite him. “Talk,” he said once Remus was comfortably seated. 

“About what?” Remus asked.

“Anything. Literally anything. How did you get this job?”

“My dad used to be a pilot, and I needed a job, so he asked around, and I got this one.”

“Do you have any experience as a steward?”

“Nope. To be honest with you, I don’t even like flying, but I need the money, so needs must.”

Sirius couldn’t even imagine what it was like to need money. His family had so much that his great-great-great-grandchildren wouldn’t need to work a day in their lives with the amount in all their accounts. 

“What do you need the money for?” he asked, genuinely curious this time. 

“I want to go back to school and train to be a teacher. University costs a bomb, and even with the loans, I’ll still be hard up. Plus, with Dad having to retire early, any extra money coming in takes a load off.”

“And you think this job is the way to do it?”

“I’ve been told the tips are pretty good,” Remus shrugged. Sirius nodded; it was true. He’d once given one of the previous stewards five grand as a tip, but he had blown him in the toilet, so…

“What about you? What do you do?” Remus asked, his honey-coloured eyes staring at Sirius intently. 

“Not a lot. I mostly oversee the smaller things at my parents’ companies that they don’t have the time to deal with.” He’d almost said don’t care about, but he had no way of knowing if Remus was a plant or not, and he didn’t want anything negative he might say getting back to his parents. 

“That must be pretty cool, seeing the inner workings of everything and building connections with your employees. I’m guessing you’ll take over one day, so having a good rapport with everyone will be beneficial for the changeover.”

Sirius was pleasantly surprised by how insightful Remus was. 

“It will, and it does. I like the workers. We have factories and offices, and I much prefer going to the factories and sorting them out to dealing with the brown-nosers in the offices.” 

He picked up his bottle of champagne and refilled his glass. “Get yourself one,” he said, but Remus shook his head. 

“I’m not supposed to.”

“I won’t tell. Go on, we could be here for hours.”

Remus chewed his lower lip for a few moments before letting out an enormous sigh and hauling himself out of his chair to go get a glass. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you if anyone walks in,” Sirius told him as he poured the second glass. 

“Thanks,” Remus said, taking a small sip from his flute. “I really need this job, and I’d hate to get fired on my first day.”

The alcohol opened both of them up a bit, and by the time the captain came to get them, Sirius and Remus were roaring with laughter over a prank Remus had played on a boy at school who’d been a bit of a prat. 

“Mr Lupin!” The captain barked, and Remus shot to his feet, champagne flute still in his hand. “I am terribly sorry about this, Mr Black. Mr Lupin, you are dismissed. Go get changed and hand your uniform back to the girl in the office. Mr Black, your plane is ready, and we will taxi out onto the runway in twenty minutes if you’d like to board. Again, my deepest apologies.”

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute,” Sirius answered, watching Remus walk a bit unsteadily to the door. Guilt rushed through him. It was his fault that Remus had lost his job. “Remus, wait,” he called out, getting to his feet. Remus looked up, his eyes filled with sadness. “I need a personal assistant. You’ll have to be at my beck and call and be able to accompany me on work trips, but I promise it won’t be that strenuous. I’ll pay you double what they were paying you here.”

Remus’s face broke into a smile, and he strode across the room and shook Sirius’s hand. 

“Deal,”