Annoying A.N.'s: So, this is what happens when you roleplay without a plot xD
This was written 50-50; one half by the extremely awesome scabiorsnatcher, the other half by me, obviously :3
I'm posting because, one: I like to look back at my RP's. They often make me smile :)
And two: because Lucius and Scabior are the sexiest men in HP, so they need a little interaction with one another.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing!

Oh, btw: In this, Scabior is a Death Eater.

The snatcher pranced into Malfoy Manor as if he owned the place, his chin held high and his strides long. Lucius glared at the pretentious fool, very much aware of the lingering gazes that he and Narcissa had been sharing. Oh yes, he'd picked up on that. If it had been Bellatrix having an affair, Lucius would have been hardly surprised, but Narcissa? His Narcissa? Whilst he cared very little for his wife, it was her duty to remain faithful to him, and for her to be sharing affections with any other man meant that someone was trespassing on Lucius' property. This disrespect was both humiliating and infuriating, and it certainly showed on his face.

Scabior strode into the room, but stopped as he noticed Lucius leant against the mantelpiece, his face pale and sour and his eyes menacing as the flickering light from the fire below cast ominous shadows across his face.

"Lucius, old fellow!" he said as a wide and childish grin spread across his face. He stepped towards Lucius with his arms wide open as if to pull the man into an embrace. As the snatcher neared, Lucius' expression quickly became even less inviting, causing Scabior to lower his arms and brush it off by clapping the blonde on the shoulder. Lucius glared down at the shoulder with such contempt that anyone could have believed a mudblood had touched him.

"Mr Malfoy," Lucius corrected, his voice completely without warmth.

Scabior moved away, starting to get the impression that the man did not favour his presence, but this only made it all the more entertaining. He dropped himself into an armchair and flung one leg over the other.

"'Course, Mr Malfoy. 'Ow's your day been?" he asked, but he knew a truthful answer could not be positive. Lucius was looking a bit out of the sorts and he could imagine why.

"Fine," Lucius said distantly, taking a sip of wine from the glass in his hand. He set it on the table. "Would you like a drink?" he offered, albeit reluctantly. Despite his opinion of the man, he had never been, and would never be, a bad host to anyone who served the Dark Lord.

"Gladly," he said and gave Lucius a warm smile, unaware of the thoughts whirling around in the other man's head. "What troubles you so? Isn't it a great honour to 'ave our Dark Lord as your guest?"

Lucius summoned a house elf whom arrived with a tray of the finest elf-made wine that money was able to buy. Lucius took a glass.

"Of course," he began, and hesitated. "But he is..." he handed the drink to Scabior with a shaky hand, "...Less than pleased with me. What with what happened at the Ministry. And of course Draco failed to kill Dumbledore... I fear I am not forgiven."

Scabior chuckled. "Our Lord is fierce and won't budge easily. I think, this time, you truly are screwed. Cheers." He gulped down his drink, emptying the glass easily before throwing it aside. "But no matter. I'll still be your friend."

"I'm pleased you are so amused, Scabior," said Lucius, narrowing his eyes and sitting himself down in the seat opposite, though of course, he knew Scabior was correct. "Why are you here, anyway? Aren't there mudbloods and blood-traitors you should be out catching?"

"I 'ave a lot to do," the snatcher replied and sipped from another glass of wine. "But luckily I 'ave men to help me. Can't say the same about you. You look an awful mess. And what is it I've 'eard about you and Narcissa? You 'ave been caring for her, 'aven't you?"

Lucius clenched his fists, his knuckles turning even whiter than usual. "Narcissa's perfectly capable of caring for herself," he said coldly, wishing that he'd poisoned Scabior's wine.

Scabior chuckled again, seeing the worried, and even jealous, glint in Malfoy's eyes. "Lucius, don't fret." He laughed, deliberately calling the man by his first name, and sat up straight in his chair before ordering a house elf to bring him another glass of wine. "You must know by now that I like... young... more." He drank from his new glass. "I wouldn't touch your wife. Not without your permission anyway." He grinned, knowing perfectly well that he was angering the man with every word.

Lucius stared at Scabior, his eyes filled with repulsion. He wanted nothing more than to pummel the man with his fists. "Remind me again why I let you in my house?" he said, his voice laced with venom.

Scabior tapped his chin with a frown, pretending to be thinking. "Oh, I got it!" he suddenly said cheerfully. "Because I'm serving your Lord and 'e decides who enters and who not," he laughed and folded his arms in front of his chest . "Now don't be down, Lucius. I'd like to see you smile again. If it'll make you feel any better I'll leave now..." He stood up from his seat and reached for his coat.

"No!" said Lucius, suddenly standing. If the Dark Lord found out that he'd quarrelled with fellow Death Eaters, then it would only be another reason to be suspicious of his loyalty to him and the cause. "Of course you're welcome to stay," he said grudgingly. "I... apologise if I've seemed hostile." He looked into the fireplace, now talking to himself more than to Scabior. "My failures are my own... I shouldn't be taking it out on others..." His mind travelled back to the argument he had with Narcissa an hour or so earlier.

"You seem upset," said Scabior gently. He still held his coat in his hand but his eyes had softened. "All right, but you must tell me 'ow I can 'elp you be more cheerful again, my friend." He was uncertain whether or not to place a hand on Lucius' shoulder. He wanted to and reached out for the blond man, but then quickly retracted his hand and turned away from him. He thought Lucius might not appreciate to be touched by him.

Lucius turned to Scabior, the reflection of the fire in his eyes. "You can do what you do best, Scabior; go out and catch the Dark Lord's enemies and–" Lucius was struck with an idea – a way to regain the Dark Lord's approval. "And you can bring them here..." he whispered with a twisted smile. "Yes. Torturing a member of the Order would be quite pleasurable." And though this was not a lie, the real intention was to claim credit should the Snatchers catch anyone special.

Scabior stood still and turned to look over his shoulder at the man. Slowly, he nodded his head before putting his coat on and flipping his hair over his shoulder. "I will," he smirked. "But you know that Madam Lestrange'll try 'n' take all the credit, don't you?"

Lucius did the signature Malfoy smirk - something he'd not done in a very long time. "Of course," he said with a short nod, "but I suppose you'll be ready for that, hm?"

Scabior laughed loudly. "I'd love to see that, Luce! So far I've seen no one who could beat Bella." He quickly recomposed himself and gently patted a hand on Lucius' shoulder. "But don't worry," he whispered near his ear. "I'll try and make the Dark Lord smile within your presence again... without you dying."

Lucius grimaced. "Not dying would be nice," he muttered. Looking at the warmth in Scabior's expression, Lucius half-regretted being so cold with him previously. Perhaps his suspicions of the snatcher and his wife were merely that; nothing more than suspicions. "Thank you," he said, not meeting Scabior's gaze. Scabior winked and made a dramatic bow before finally leaving the premises.

Thanks for reading! :D

BTW, I will personally owl boxes of cookies to anyone who writes a Lucius and Scabior slash! Siriusly.