Jim was waiting, leaning against his desk, door to the waiting room wide open, with a full view of the elevator. He pushed off the desk as the lift opened up to reveal Sebastian, heading to meet him halfway. "I assume the plane is ready and waiting?"

He nodded. "It is, sir. We're prepared to leave as soon as you are."

"I've been ready for several hours. Let's go visit our encroaching friend Germany, shall we?"

He nodded, and waited for James to exit, falling into step just behind him as they headed for street level.

Lorna boarded the plane with her escort, who made himself scarce in the captain's quarters (to her relief), and she sat down with a sigh in the nearest chair. Across from her on the wall, was the briefcase. She supposed it was there to tempt her - remind her that she could never disobey him. Him. Jim. She pursed her lips, considering the case. It glinted dully, vibrating as the engines started and the plane began to coast down the runway.

She lasted ten minutes.

Then she stood from her seat and pulled the case off its hook before backing up and taking her seat again, fingers quickly unlatching the buckles and the combination keeping the case closed. She didn't hesitate opening it. When she did, she stared. There were two folders, sitting side by side. Each appeared to have only one piece of paper in it. The first was labeled "Succession," and the second "Destruction." She was slightly confused. Destruction? Wasn't that what Jim wanted to avoid? She reached for it, hesitantly at first, and then grabbed it and tore it open.

In the center of the page were three sentences in clean black type.

It seems I am dead. You have chosen destruction. Sebastian Moran was spying on you since the beginning, trading your secrets for the right to your bed.

She felt something funny happen to her stomach, though she remained externally calm. She very carefully folded the paper back up and slid it back into the envelope, and then considered how it would go unnoticed that she'd broken the seal of glue. That had been rash of her. He would check, certainly, wouldn't he? Well, she hadn't ripped the envelope itself - she lifted it to her face and licked the glue remnants, and then sealed it back up. Alright, it stood up to her eyes. If she was lucky, it would stand up to his, or he would be too arrogant to check. She sighed and sat back, and put her head in her hands. There was no time to freak out now. If she cried, it would be obvious when they landed. She had to keep this held down until she figured out what to do about it.

Sebastian didn't remember breathing between the time the planes took off and when they landed. His whole body was tense, knots working themselves gleefully into his muscles. Were they to be attacked in the air, there was nothing he could do to stop it. Flying fighter planes posed more risk of drawing fire than protection, so stealth had been the best option. As it was, it was still a monumental risk.

Moran didn't relax until both planes were on the ground, which Jim found endlessly amusing. He watched the young buck pace back and forth across the small aircraft before finally settling into a tense stance with the over-stillness of a distance shooter. It was satisfying to watch the affection he had cultured in the boy so carefully finally bear some enjoyable fruit. When their plane landed, it barely made a difference. He was still twisted tighter than a pressed spring until- eighteen minutes later- Harrison's plane landed. Only then did his muscles seem to remember they could move.

When she landed, Lorna was... Tired. That was all she allowed herself to feel, for the moment. She didn't doubt that she could lie to Jim - she could, if pressed - but the more she hid her feelings, the less she would have to.

She got off the plane with luggage in hand and smiled as she saw them waiting on the runway. Nothing was wrong, she told herself. That was how she would get through this without breaking. "Good!" she called as she approached them, "I was worried you got shot out of the sky. Dark joke, maybe, but we all made it safe and sound."

Jim rolled his eyes, and gave her a smirk. "Our poor pup didn't stop whinging the whole trip. He likes you better, it seems, dear."

She winked at Jim. "I'm just more likable, that's all. That's why I'm the grifter, right?" She smiled, though she set down her luggage next to theirs and took a few steps to give Sebastian a kiss, twining one of her arms around his neck and not thinking about what he'd been doing to her all this time.

Moran was a touch surprised by the forward show of affection, but didn't mind, just kissed her back briefly and then nodded. "There's a car waiting."

She drew back without looking at Jim, already feeling his eyes on her. She knew that he was counting on her affection for Moran being unwavering, and it wouldn't hurt to remind him that she was indeed in deep. "Let's go."

Moran bowed slightly and released her arm, before motioning to her security and beginning to move toward the waiting car.

Jim and Lorna followed, Jim with his eyes on her. She seemed normal. Unburdened. There were no signs that she'd opened the briefcase.

It was evening by the time they were settled. Moran had performed a full security sweep of their lodgings- removing several bugs- before he was satisfied that all was as it should be.

She unpacked in their quarters - Jim had reserved a house with only two bedrooms, probably to keep her and Moran close together - and then sat on the bed for a while, staring off into empty space, while she had the time to herself. She kept an open book in her lap, in order to have a cover once someone walked in, but for the moment, she just tried to understand what had been happening behind her back. How many things had she let slip while in Sebastian's arms? How many of her sleep-addled thoughts had he passed to Jim? She needed to come up with a plan to stop it.

Moran entered a few minutes later, setting his rucksack down and beginning to unpack neatly into the bureau she had not taken. He glanced at her. "I spoke to the pilots. They said your flight was uneventful?"

She closed the book in her lap and set it aside on the bed, shrugging a little. "Occupied myself reading. Did my best to ignore the very obviously placed briefcase on the wall. If he wants me to open it he can just tell me what he wants for me to do if he dies," she snorted, rolling her eyes a little.

Moran smirked. "He's always going to want to play games. I'm beginning to understand that. At least he didn't seem displeased with you for leaving it be."

She snorted. "I expect it was somewhat a test of my will. Or defiance. I'm not sure which."

He shrugged. "Both, maybe." He closed the drawer and folded his bag, sliding it under the bureau for easy access. He looked over at her and took a breath. "I'm just glad we're all intact. Bloody mad, flying from London to Germany, now of all times."

"As mad as flying from London to Italy, but I guess there's an argument to be made it's a tad madder," she returned, a slight smirk on her face. "We're fine. Things will be easier from here on out. What's a little blackmail among fascists, right?" She wasn't completely convinced of her own words, and she doubted he would be either, but she needed to fill the silence with something.

He sighed, but nodded, setting his bag aside and walking over to her, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Still. I'm glad you're safe."

She smiled softly, raising a hand to touch his over her cheek for a moment, her heart twisting unpleasantly in her chest. How had he done this to her? For so long? "I feel the same about you. Jim, eh," she shrugged, smirking.

He laughed, genuine and warm. "Shush, he'll hear you," he protested, leaning down and kissing her gently.

She kissed him back, hand cupping his jaw. Oh Sebastian. I hope it was worth it.

He pulled back after a moment. "If you're tired, I can let you sleep," he said quietly.

She shook her head a little, thumb caressing his jawline. "No," she said softly, "Wasn't a strenuous day, not really."

He nodded, leaning in to kiss her again, letting himself tumble into the relief that they were both alive and well.

Her fingers flexed against his cheek, the other hand rising to curl into the front of his shirt and pull him down to the bed beside her, twisting as she did so as not to break the kiss.

He hummed against her lips, pleased, pulling her against him, boots still on, but he didn't care.

This would be the last time in a while she touched Sebastian like this, she knew. When they were done, in post-orgasm bliss, she would 'let slip.' She would confront Jim, and that would be it. Maybe forever. So for now, she indulged, let herself enjoy this perhaps-last-time with a man she maybe could have loved, and she unbuttoned his shirt one-handed, her other winding around his neck, and she let out a soft moan against his lips. "Seb... I need you."

He reached around her to the buttons of her dress, unbuttoning with practiced movements. "Good," he murmured. "Because I need you too."

She shivered, kissing him again, harder this time, the hand in his shirt pulling the hem loose from his trousers and rucking up his undershirt so she could touch his skin, and then used both hands to pushed his button-up off his shoulders.

He pulled her dress down her arms, a large hand sliding under her brassiere to palm her breast. He slid his tongue past her lips, mingling with hers.

She let out a soft gasp, and redoubled her efforts to rid him of his shirt as soon as her hands were free from her sleeves, pulling his button-up off and then peeling off his undershirt, immediately running her hands down his abs to hook in his waistband, her heart beating a little harder in her chest. The cynical part of her, the part that was already prepared for this eventuality, the catch, thought that it was a real shame of the waste it was to give up a lover like this.

Sebastian lost himself in her over the next hour or so, letting the tension of the day slough off of him, worshipping her body and enjoying every moment.

Lying in the afterglow, her head pillowed on her chest, she let out a quiet breath, steeling herself for what was to come. Idly, she traced her fingers over his skin, in aimless patterns, and told herself it meant nothing. "Sometimes..." she said suddenly, though softly, looking off at the far side of the room, "Sometimes I miss having this with.. with Jim. Don't get me wrong, you... are all I've ever wanted in a lover. But I suppose I had something with Jim that I can't make myself forget. I miss when things were easy with him. Maybe, before it all, I loved him. Maybe I still do. I don't know anymore. It's all become so... so muddled."

He was surprised by the topic, but let her speak, trying to relax under her touch, though her words stung a little. "He's a difficult man to keep happy. I thought after the bombing..."

"After the bombing... Things never became the same. I suppose that there's no turning back in that situation," she sighed, shaking her head a little.

He nodded just a little. "I'm sorry that you miss him." He shifted, uncertain why they were talking about this, but knowing in his gut that Jim would want to know.

She nodded a little, silent for a minute. How could she repay Sebastian for the betrayal he had given her? What would hurt him, without making it obvious that that was her goal? Or... was guilt enough? "There's one thing I don't miss," she said, after a long time, almost in a whisper. "The lies."

He felt like he'd taken a blow to the sternum, and it took him a second to get his breath back. "Yeah, I can't imagine he was the forthcoming sort."

She laughed quietly, fingers dancing across his skin for a second. "Your imagination is right. Now I'm going the fuck to bed, and you should too, yeah?" She smirked, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Across the room, tucked into the closet, was a small bug-out bag. Whenever Sebastian told Jim, she knew he wouldn't be able to resist saying something, and she knew she would snap.

"Yes..." he said quietly, shifting slightly and trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

She'd gotten to him. Good. She felt a sense of vindication, of revenge, and she yawned and turned over to bury herself into her own pillow, eyes closing.

He lay there as her breathing settled out, but eventually decided that he wasn't going to sleep, and got up, pulling on his clothes and heading out into the rest of the house in search of a drink.

Jim was sitting in the living room, a glass of scotch in his hands, reading over a file. He looked up as Sebastian entered the room, a smirk spreading on his face. "You lovebirds have fun?"

He resisted the urge to flip the man off. "Where's the liquor cabinet in this place?" he said instead.

Jim jacked a thumb over his shoulder at the cocktail trolley in the corner. "Don't get hungover."

"I'm not stupid," he muttered, walking over to fix himself a drink. He felt like he was chafing raw under the collar Jim had snared him with.

"These days, I might agree with you. Maybe someday I won't feel the need to remind you of past indiscretions. Has Lorna said anything interesting in the past week, by the way?" He tacked on, eyes following Sebastian until he went behind him.

He poured himself a generous serving of scotch, and didn't answer. That was answer enough and they both knew it.

Jim cocked an eyebrow, closing the file and setting it aside on the coffee table. "Moran..."

He considered the glass, then downed the whole thing and poured himself another few fingers. "How long does this deal go on, sir? What happens when I tell you all the secrets she has? When you know everything there is to know?"

Jim was quiet for a moment, his expression unchanging. "There will always be new secrets, Moran. Eventually, I will have to extend the period in-between reports. She will have less, yes, but the well will never run dry. That is a woman who holds a lot of things close to her chest. Things she never told me, she's comfortable telling you." He finally twisted in his seat to look at Moran. "Now stop stalling, tiger. Don't make this unpleasant."

He bristled under the pressure. "I got you here safely, James. Your madcap plan to get to Germany by plane when there's a war on , and here you are, alive and well. That doesn't buy me one night?"

"Oh, it's that good, is it?" Jim purred, though there was a dangerous tint to his voice. " You didn't fly the plane, Moran. You barely had any say in the course. Give me the information, Moran. Now."

"I charted the course," he retorted, snarling. "I spent three days agonizing over every detail to ensure we stayed clear of military bases and combat zones, and suspected bases and zones." He took another deep sip of scotch. "I hand picked those pilots and those planes out of dozens of potentials, and we're on the ground safely."

Jim stood, then, his stare intense. "If you don't tell me what it is you're trying to keep a secret, I will maim you and dump you shirtless by the side of the road for the Germans to find, and then I will find a more obedient bodyguard. Is that fucking clear?"

He raised his chin, staring Jim down for a long few seconds. "She misses you," he spit finally. "Hell knows why. Misses sex with you. Misses having your closeness ."

Jim laughed, throwing his head back with the force of it, and it took him over for a few seconds, then he focused again. "That's all, Moran? That's what you wouldn't tell me? Ooo, too hurt, are we?" Glee was on his face. "Tell me, tell me; did she throw the L word around?"

He flushed an angry red from cheeks to ears, blue eyes blazing. "Yes," he said shortly, resisting the urge to go after the smaller man.

If possible, the utter glee on his face only brightened. "Thank you, Moran, that will be all for tonight," he said cheerfully, and without further ado turned and headed for his and Lorna's room.

She was awake in the dark. It had been hard to sleep through his exuberant laughter, and as soon as she heard his first step on the creaky hardwood floors, she opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the knife within, tucking it under her pillow, and then slid it under her pillow, feigning sleep once again.

Jim opened the door, entering, and closing it behind him. "Are we a child, Lorna, that we pretend to sleep when daddy comes up to check?" he asked mockingly.

"I guess so, because that's what I was doing," she said simply, sitting up a little and rubbing her eyes with a yawn. "Maybe it was just wishful thinking. What do you want, Jim?"

" Sebby was in a horrible mood just now, and do you know what I pried out of him?" he asked, flopping onto her bed.

She sighed, running a hand over her face. "Not quite in the mood for games right now, Jim. What did he tell you?"

"He told me you said you missed me, darling," he purred. "That you might love me. He seemed quite upset, our pup."

She sat up straighter then, the visible vestiges of weariness melting off of her in an instant, and her eyes locked onto Jim's with a dangerous gleam. "Finally giving up the game? Oh, Jim... you should never start a game you can't win." And then she was across the bed, the knife in her hand, and she struck him in the face with the hilt of the blade with a savage snarl, her hand slamming into his throat, and in the next instant she was completely on top of him, holding him pinned to the bed. She leaned closer to him, to his ear. " You shouldn't have told me on the plane."

James Moriarty was- for one very rare instant in his life- very confused. The pain helped, radiating through his skull, as did the egg now forming on his temple. But then he connected the pieces. He saw his own flaws, accepted them, and pushed past them for a moment, reframing his plan. "Naughty, peeking while I was still alive. Was it wishful thinking?" If he could get Moran here, the boy would defend him. He was loyal, if nothing else.

She didn't respond immediately, just punched him with her non-armed hand, ignoring the ache in her knuckles and punching him again. "You'll be quiet, if you know what's good for you, James," she hissed, her hand grabbing his jaw and digging in. "If you scream, I will kill you. If you fight too much, I will kill you. I'm done, James. I've had it." She punched him again.

He shifted, trying to get a hand up to grab at the one with the knife. "Then do it. Kill me, and Moran too, while you're at it. Your little revenge kick is boring ." He slammed a foot against the floor loudly.

She moaned, then, trying to buy herself time before Sebastian arrived to stop this, and got a fistful of Jim's hair as she swiftly smacked away his hand and then got off of him to force him onto his side, if not his stomach. She pinned him again, glad that she had been keeping up her strength after her rehab, and the knife cut at the collar off his shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing, Harrison?" Jim snarled, reaching backwards to try and grapple the knife from her, and failing horribly.

She caught his hand and stuffed it under her knee, and in the next moment the knife was carving into the base of his neck, over the spine, a quick but skilled few slashes, and left behind LH.

Playlist: Bear Attack! - Carnivore