Chapter warnings: A little bit of gore, violence and creepiness towards the end of this chapter.
A faint ringing in the distance broke into her dreams the next morning. Moaning as a dull throbbing began pounding in her head, Lily rolled over onto what she thought was the other side of her bed and instead rolled off the beaten up old couch and onto the cold hardwood floor of her living room with a loud thud.
"Owww..." she groaned, lying spreadeagled, her hair in a red fan around her head. The ringing was louder now and wouldn't stop. The telephone... She pulled herself up onto her hands and knees and crawled over to the coffee table where she fumbled for the receiver.
"Whoever this is, you better be calling to tell me my flat is on fire because otherwise-"
"You're an hour and a half late for our briefing."
The familiar, stony voice on the other end of the line made her eyes widen and she jumped to her feet, searching the table frantically for her watch. 11:06. Shit.
"I'll be right there!" Lily promised, not waiting to hear his response before slamming the phone down and running into the bathroom.
Scowling, James slammed his phone down and went to refill his coffee. The woman would be the death of him. It was another twenty seven minutes before she arrived panting at his office door, panting and, oddly enough, with mismatched shoes. His gaze travelled up from the strange fashion choice and lingered briefly on her heaving chest before he snapped back to reality and quickly averted his eyes.
"Sit down, Evans," he said, motioning to the chair opposite his. He noticed her brow furrow slightly but she made no comment as she settled down into the comfortable leather seat. James slid a file across the desk and settled back. "There's something we need to discuss."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Look, if this is about last night ... and then this morning... then I'm sorry, I'd had a bad day and-"
"Let's just forget about it," he interrupted brusquely, feeling another pang of despair at the memory of his missing car. He looked pointedly at the file in her hands. "We've been assigned together on this protection detail."
A brief look of horror, similar to the one that must have crossed his face when he had found out, flitted across hers before she masked it and opened the document. 3...2...1... She started shaking her head and looked up at him, disbelief clear in her eyes.
"There's been some kind of mistake here," she said, looking baffled, "I don't know why I've been assigned to this mission... it actually looks important."
Pushing aside his impatience, James replied, "I can assure you, it's not a mistake. I was at the main briefing yesterday; you must have impressed someone."
Whereas I must have spectacularly pissed someone off.
"But shouldn't Meadowes be on a case like this with you? I mean, she has more experience, she's more qualified than I am."
"Yes, she is," he replied, through gritted teeth, "but you've been assigned to me and we just need to accept that. Now..." he cleared his throat. "We'll be posing as Mr and Mrs Frank and Alice Longbottom for the duration of the mission. The safe-house is still undergoing all of the necessary security fittings but our back-up team has already moved into their base."
"Who's on back-up?" Lily asked.
"Lupin and Pettigrew," James replied with a shrug. "Not worked with them since training but they've both got good records. You'll probably meet them at the briefing tomorrow morning."
"Oh," she replied, at a loss for words. This new bombshell mixed with her hangover was making her feel dizzy and she rubbed her forehead. Being married to James... she was literally living a nightmare.
"You're going to get her taken off of you for neglect!" Petunia scolded, her voice rising over the dull thuds coming from the living room. She refilled the cat's bowl, giving her a wary glance, before glaring through the open kitchen door at Lily. She could barely look after herself, never mind an animal as well. Dirty mugs and bowls were piled precariously in the sink; the microwave door lay open, displaying the orange splatters decorating the inside; the fridge was bare bar a carton of milk and a block of mouldy Wensleydale. It was a far cry from the respectable and pristine kitchen of Number Four, Privet Drive. Petunia tutted and dodged out of the way skittishly as the tabby looked up at her and meowed.
Lily ignored her sister's nagging and continued banging her head against the table top, muttering death threats under her breath.
"Stop that!" Petunia commanded. "I'm getting a headache just looking at you!"
"What am I going to do, Tuney?" Lily complained, resting her cheek against the cool surface and turning pleading eyes on the older blonde. Petunia rolled her eyes.
"You're going to do your job," she replied, firmly. "Remember that, Lily? Remember the good old days when you actually did your job? You were going somewhere, you had prospects! Now look at you: moping around after that arrogant fool in this squat of a flat. I mean, really, did you even brush your hair this morning?"
"You're meant to comfort me," Lily grumbled, sitting up and fixing her sister with a petulant glare, "I'm at a crisis point in my life. I need, y'know, love and support and stuff."
Petunia scoffed as she picked up her handbag. "I'll see myself out. Don't be late for dinner again on Sunday."
Lily waited until she heard the door slam, then stood up and made her way over to the menu drawer.
"What'll it be tonight then, Minnie?" she asked the cat, who was now staring at her from the doorway, licking her lips. "Pizza or Indian? Pizza? Good choice, we had an Indian the night before after all."
Picking up the phone, she absent-mindedly punched in the number as she scanned the menu and waited impatiently for them to answer. Running a hand through her hair, she suddenly sat up straight as she heard a deep voice on the other end of the line, saying: "Hello?"
She'd dialled the wrong number. A very wrong number. Pressing her hand over the receiver, she exhaled loudly and recited all the curse words she knew, realising too late that she hadn't covered the whole mouthpiece. Trying to take calming breaths, she brought the receiver back to her ear, James Potter's confused voice sending shocks of horror and another emotion she didn't want to name through her skin.
"Evans? Is that you? Is something wrong?"
"Umm... no, nothing's wrong," she said weakly. "I just dialled the wrong number. See you at the office."
"Wait, don't hang up."
Lily waited as he paused, and chewed her thumbnail anxiously. The silence between them seemed to stretch on forever; the clock on the wall ticked the seconds by loudly.
"I think we need to clear the air before we start this mission," James said eventually, sounding a far cry from his normal, cocky self.
"I was just about to order pizza," she replied hesitantly, tugging nervously on the end of her ponytail.
Another pause followed.
"Any chance we could we make it an Indian?"
"My flat's going to stink now," Lily said ruefully as she looked at the scattered take-out cartons and their congealing leftovers slopped on the dirty plates. James chuckled.
"It stinks anyway," he remarked, and dodged a couch pillow she tossed at him, "It's that bloody cat!"
"Don't insult Minnie!" Lily replied crossly, "She's a very clean cat, with impeccable manners."
"It's a shame her owner doesn't pick up some of those habits," he shot back with a smile. Lily found herself smiling in return and felt the unwanted memories started to nag at the back of her mind again. A heavy silence settled in the tiny living room, eventually broken by James who was looking a lot more nervous now.
"This mission could potentially take years," he stated, "It's the most important protection detail the agency has undertaken in years and we were picked for it, out of the whole department. The bosses obviously think we're a good match for this."
"Either that or they hate us," Lily replied raising her eyebrows. Considering the current slump her career was in, she was willing to bet more on that option.
"Oh come on, I'm not that bad, am I? It's not like I cut up your clothes and threw them out of a fourth floor window," he said, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.
She blushed a deep blotchy scarlet. "Oh good, you still remember that. I maintain that you deserved it!"
"That suit was Armani!" James groaned, reliving the memory, "It cost me a bloody fortune!"
"Serves you right for being such a twat," she said, laughing.
James chuckled. "Well, as long as you promise to stay away from my wardrobe, I think we may just make it out of this alive."
She held up her crossed fingers with a grin. "How did Sirius take the news? I've been worried about him, he seems unhappy."
James let out a heavy sigh and took a swig of his beer. "I think that's putting it mildly but you know what he's like, he'll never admit it. He went from being one of the agency's rising stars to out on his ear almost overnight, just because of one bad call. And then there's Marlene."
"Marlene." Lily nodded, thinking of the no-nonsense blonde woman Sirius had dated on and off for more than three years. "Those two… I always thought they'd get their shit sorted at some point and settle down They just seemed good together."
"Yeah I think that's what Sirius thought as well… unfortunately Marlene disagreed. It takes two to make the relationship work." James looked away and took a deep glug of beer, his expression slightly bitter.
A pregnant silence settled heavily on the room and Lily gazed down at her fingernails, picking at the chipped nail polish on her thumb. There was so much unfinished business between them, so much unaired frustration and hurt that most of their conversations outside of work ended up like this; pointed comments and bitter recriminations. It was why they'd had the unspoken agreement to avoid each other as much as possible... up until now. Lily sighed softly.
"It's getting late," she said, quietly.
Taking the hint, James nodded. "I'll call a taxi. Thanks for…" He waved at the empty cartons and bottles strewn across the table.
Lily offered a small smile. "You're welcome. See you at the office."
He returned it as he shrugged on his jacket and headed for the door. Just as he opened it, he seemed to suddenly remember something and turned back to her with a sheepish grin. "Don't wear anything too smart. It's a special training day tomorrow."
On the other side of London, that same no-nonsense blonde was in serious trouble. Perched on the rafters up in the loft, Marlene strained to hear the intruders she knew were creeping around the bottom floor of her house. The tell-tale creaks sent her heart racing; they were coming up the stairs. Her hand tightened around her gun and she inched forwards quietly towards a small hole in the floor below the wooden planks. Peering through, she saw three strangers in stalk past, all with guns of their own drawn. Marlene stopped herself from swearing aloud as one turned, showing the familiar, grotesque silver mask she'd hoped she'd never see again.
"She isn't here."
"She must be hiding. Keep looking."
Marlene recognised the second voice with a spike of anger. She'd had several run ins with Arvin Travers; both had left scars on the other, their battle was personal. Her mind raced: it would only be a matter of time before they discovered her hiding place and she knew she had little chance of overpowering all three of them if she jumped down now. Her only hope was to wait for them to come up; the hatch that served as the loft's entrance would only allow one at a time so she could pick them off individually rather than have to deal with them all at the same time.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Marlene swore and fumbled for her pager, scrambling to silence it before-
"What was that? Up there!"
Too late. In her haste to stop the pager Marlene lost her balance and toppled from the precarious rafter she had been crouched on. With a muffled cry she burst through the thin ceiling with a painful crack! and landed on her back in a cloud of dust on the landing below.
"Travers, she's here!"
Marlene leapt for her gun but a shot rang out before she could reach it, followed swiftly by a burst of agony in her hand as a bullet shattered through flesh and bone. Giving up on the weapon, Marlene turned and fled for the stairs. She only made it a few metres before she was grabbed from behind, a powerful pair of arms encircled her waist and dragged her back just as she set her foot on the first stair. Travers' rancid breath came in excited gasps against her face and she could feel his twisted smile against her skin as he pulled her back tightly against his chest.
"Where are you going, hmm?" He chuckled as she struggled against him, but he'd pinned her arms behind her back and hand-to-hand she wasn't much of a match against his strength.
"We've got someone who wants a word with you. It's rather urgent, I'm afraid, otherwise we could stay and catch up," he hissed, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.
"Go to hell," she growled, still trying to twist away from him.
"Oh don't worry, we're taking you there."
The world went dark as another masked stranger pulled a hood roughly over her head. Her arms were pulled painfully as cold metal handcuffs snapped around her wrists. As she was dragged from the house, Marlene felt the cold air and tried to calm her breathing. This was it… this was the end.
Again, thank you for reading! And a big thanks to the guest who left the review on the first chapter, it made my day! The follows/favourites are also appreciated :)
