Cecil did make it to the bathroom but just barely. After rinsing his mouth with water, he drained the contents of a discrete flask. It wasn't nearly enough to get him drunk but was usually enough to take the edge off. It wasn't working. Cecil could still see those flayed fingers. He could still hear the screams. He supposed he should be grateful that the glass prevented scents from carrying into the observation room, that he hadn't been able to smell the procedure. Cecil's brain felt funny, not numb but as if a freezing fog had left icy shards in his mind. He couldn't go back.

Cecil left the Council's labs. Yes, Mother would be disappointed, but she so often was. And it wasn't as if she'd say anything or at least not right away. If he kept out of her way for a bit, she'd most likely leave him alone and when he did turn up, well, she'd ignore the whole thing in the short-term. And, yes, there'd be the occasional barbed comments any time he disappointed her, but he was used to that.

Given that he'd already disappointed Mother, he might as well go whole hog. She'd been keeping him away from Isla. Cecil wasn't quite sure why. Mother'd given up interest in any of his girls ages ago. But, honestly. If he thought on it, Isla seemed the perfect remedy to what Mother had just put him through.

He was standing outside of Isla's flat before he thought to wonder if she'd let him in. Mother'd kept them apart for weeks, and even though it hadn't been Cecil's idea, well, so few women understood how Mother controlled him and those that did tended to be too much like Mother for comfort. No way to be sure but to try. He rang the bell.

He'd thought Isla might scream at him or throw a cup or something at him. Instead she just drew him inside, asking "What the hell happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look like you've been through the ringer. Drink?"

"Gods, yes."

No room in Isla's flat was completely devoid of art but at least in the den it had been pushed off to the edges, leaving a couch and a couple of chairs free for company. Cecil'd found the room rather unremarkable on past visits, but Isla lit a fire and turned the lights down low. The overly bright lights of the Council's labs had left no place for even shadows to hide. Here, in Isla's den, with the lights low, it was all shadows, a comfortable darkness where he could hide or reveal as he so chose.

Isla poured a second drink for Cecil, a first for herself, and leaned back into one of the leather chairs. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's family business. Very hush hush." He didn't know how much Isla knew about the Council. She'd gotten Deidre Page to talk to him and had been there for the interview where Miss Page had mentioned both the Council and black magic, but Isla didn't believe in any of it. All she knew was that he wasn't free to talk about it. The nice thing was, she didn't seem to mind. She merely sat back and took a sip of her drink, allowing him to lead the conversation. He adored how she just let him be.

Even so, he was as surprised as anyone when the words popped out of his mouth. "So, do you want to tie the knot?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Marriage. I mean do you want to, uh, marry, me that is. I know I should have a ring to do this properly and Mother will have conniptions but, well, I don't know, it sort of seems like the thing to do right? We've been seeing each other for, well, alright, only a few months but still, next logical step and all."

She stared at him from over her glass for so long it became uncomfortable. "Don't propose just to get back at your mother."

Oh. He rose to his feet. "I'll go then."

"Don't go."

Right, women didn't always make sense at the best of times, but … "You're rather giving me mixed signals here."

"If you ever want to spend the rest of your life with me, then we can talk marriagle, and if that day never comes, then it never comes." She joined him on the couch. "Don't worry about it tonight. Let it all go. Just sit here with me, watch the fire, and relax."

Relax. Now there was a concept he could get used to.