She hadn't been able to fall asleep in the time that he'd been downstairs, and had only managed a light doze. She wasn't real great at falling asleep in strange places while largely conflicted about staying there. Hopefully he wasn't going to knife her, or something else unpleasantly painful.

He undressed and climbed into bed next to her. Her breathing wasn't that of a sleeping person, and he rolled his eyes. "Don't trust me?"

She cracked an eyelid. "You trust me?" she challenged quietly, opening both eyes and looking at him steadily. She knew he didn't.

"Would you?" he asked with a laugh. He was pleasantly buzzed.

She snorted. "If I could read minds, maybe. But without perspective, no. You're only proving my point, though," she mumbled, pulling the sheets up a bit higher. He'd disturbed them when he got in.

He flopped back against his pillow. "You'd think after so long of fucking each other you'd at least be able to sleep in my flat."

She laughed despite herself. "Yeah, well, it's not the same as the other one. I'm used to the other one. This one isn't familiar."

"Your loss," he smirked, reaching out under the covers to slide a hand over her thigh.

"I wouldn't call this a loss, exactly," she murmured, a little bit more awake. This might be the catch she was looking for.

"No?" he asked, hand sliding up the inside of her thigh as he shifted on his side to face her.

"I'd let you know if it was," she shrugged, flicking the covers down a little. The cool air was a relief.

He smirked, leaning in to bite the side of her neck, careful of his cuts. He let go of her thigh and shifted his hand up to slip under her shirt.

She gasped, full-on kicking off the sheets now, with her limited movement. "You really like the biting when you're drunk."

"So do you, to be fair," he muttered. "Me biting, I mean." He cupped one of her breasts through the fabric of her bra, massaging firmly and shifting his body up over hers a little.

She made a soft sound of confirmation, arching a little under his touch and lightly scratching her nails across his shoulder. She knew what he liked, too, by this point.

He grinned against her skin, turning his head to catch the edge of her jaw with his lips, his free hand sliding beneath her back to undo the clasp of her bra.

She moved to make it easier for him, taking the opportunity to turn and kiss him, sliding her fingers into his hair and scraping lightly over his scalp.

He kissed her back, tongue pushing into her mouth roughly as he pulled her bra forward enough to slide his hands underneath. He had energy to burn at the moment, and wasn't going to waste it.

She pulled back from him enough to sit up and drag her shirt over her head, casting her bra off in the same movement, then gave him a little push onto his back and resuming kissing him, this time straddling his waist. She would get away with what she could.

He snorted at that, biting her lip sharply in retaliation and tasting a bit of blood, but letting her take the top for the moment, hands busy exploring the now-familiar weight of her breasts, hips grinding up against hers.

She dug her nails into his side at the sharp pain in her lip and slid her hands up into his hair to get a grip and pull his head back, sucking a dark mark under his jaw while she happily rolled her hips down into his. The only reason she didn't try to control that as well - something she never got to do with him, anyway - was that she desperately did not want him to stop now that he'd started.

He growled at that, one hand moving to slap her arse at the insolence, before gripping it, pulling her down against him more firmly.

A laugh at his sound of displeasure was cut off by his slap and her answering moan. "We haven't got anything in the queue, have we?" she breathed into the crook of his throat before biting hard enough to leave a mark.

"Mmm... don't think so, been dry for a while on that. Thoughts?" His voice stuttered slightly as she bit him, and he answered with a hand tangling and tugging at her hair.

She grinned, tilting her head to bite his earlobe and tug, not enough to hurt. "Oh, I have a few. None of them are possible right now, though," she hummed, her hand sliding between them to snap at the waist of his pants. "Just wondering how long until I could spring it on you."

"I'm intrigued," he muttered, sliding a hand under the waist of her knickers to palm her arse, the other tightening in her hair a little. "Details?"

"Mm.. In the office," she snickered, kissing a line down his jaw and leaving another mark on his shoulder with her teeth. "Anyone who walked in couldn't say a word."

He smirked just slightly. "Interesting idea..." He murmured, his middle finger slipping down between her thighs to trace teasingly over her core. "Jim would kill us both..."

It took her a second to respond with this new distraction, arching back into his hand with a slight whine. "Even Jim can't- can't determine location, can he?" she groaned, then laughed, a little bit breathlessly. "Hell, he might find a CCTV and watch."

"My point exactly," he muttered, grinning at his return to power, the finger circling her entrance teasingly a few times as he leaned forward to close his lips over her jugular, sucking hard and scraping his teeth.

She gave up any pretense she had left of being in control, swearing under her breath and returning to his pants again, this time with a more concerted effort to get them off. "W-well, if the office is out, I'm sure there's other places."

"Oh, plenty," he agreed, voice calm though his body was warm under her hands. "You want to risk exposure, we can find places."

She laughed, finally managing to get his pants past his hips and her hand stroking down his length. "I've done it before, I know all the tricks," she smirked, leaning to kiss him again.

"Oh, I doubt that," he laughed. "But maybe. It is your business." He slid the tip of his finger into her, still teasing.

The squeeze she gave him was only half accidental. She let her forehead drop to his shoulder, failing to stifle a rather ragged breath. "Sebastian-"

He grit his teeth as she squeezed, but resisted letting out any noise, instead regaining his composure and scraping his nails along her scalp slowly, finger in her circling. "Yes, Lorna?"

"Please don't tease," she breathed, near-shuddering with the effort of not rocking back onto his hand. She knew that would get her nowhere with him.

"Why not?" he asked softly, hand releasing her hair and sliding over her neck, tracing a pattern over her spine.

"I-" She couldn't come up with a reason. The best one she could come up with was that she just wanted him, and the tingles running down her back were driving her mad. " Please."

"Why shouldn't I just torture you, huh?" he laughs, turning them over suddenly, pinning her to the mattress with his free hand on her neck, not too tightly, but a good grip.

She grasped his wrist out of principle more than anything, her other hand fisting in the sheets next to her so she didn't draw blood down his side. Still, she struggled with what to say. "'Cause you're already rock hard and I'm starting to fucking ache, Sebastian, please," she managed, gripping his wrist harder.

He tilted his head slightly. "Not your best argument, but you seem distracted," he conceded, drumming his fingers against the side of her neck and pulling his finger out of her, reaching down to pump himself a few times instead.

"Thank god," she muttered, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from verbally hurrying him along, or at least getting back to touching her, which she was missing with increasing urgency. Christ, she was still wearing her fucking panties. "You're lucky you're so pretty."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, mouth quirking a bit up at the corner as he flexed his grip around her throat. The other hand started working on removing her panties. "Impatient are we?"

She lifted her hips to help the process move along. "Don't ask stupid questions," she huffed, her flushed cheeks visible even in the dim light coming in from the street-facing window. And then, because she was worried that would only be a step backward, said, "Yes, yes."

He chuckled at her scrambling as he removed "Nice save." Then, without any warning, he shifted between her legs and pushed into her, swearing and grinning as he sunk into her.

She arched up off the bed and said a few loud, choice swears as she both rolled with the burning ache of having to accommodate him so fucking quick and as she basked in the goddamn relief of it, breath leaving her in gasps. She realized suddenly that she had curled both her hands around his arms, as if looking for something to hold onto, and made herself relax, shaking slightly. "Move. Move."

"Hold on, I'm giving you time to adjust..." He purposefully spoke slowly, calmly, despite the burning need in him to move. He was overwhelmed by the thrill of power, but not for long. A few more moments, just long enough to make a point that he wasn't obeying her orders, and he started moving, all at once, grinding and sliding against her with force.

She groaned as he finally start moving, running her hands down his ripped back and briefly grabbing a handful of ass before running back up so she could brace one hand above her on the headboard and wrap her free arm around his neck. He didn't ever hold back, she knew that much about him, and she wanted him to go hard - she loved it - but sliding up the bed with each thrust wasn't ideal.

He snarled as she grabbed his ass as it sent a burning wave of pleasure up his spine, and returned with a thrust of his hips against hers, before rolling slowly, his breaths short. "Fuck, Lorna, you feel good. Should just lock you up somewhere, keep you hostage for myself."

"At t-the moment, I don't think I'd c-complain," she gasped, his changing pace fanning the furnace in her core and making her squirm, arching up into him again, desperate to feel all of him.

He grunted in agreement, biting his lip, face screwing up a bit as he saw her brace herself and smiled at the immediate increase in response.

She did her best to move in rhythm with him while pinned down with his hand, already incapable of simply leaning up to kiss him open-mouthed and demanding. She gripped harder at the bed and at him, looking up at him with blown-dark eyes. "God, that's perfect," she moaned, "Please don't stop."

He didn't, watching her struggle slightly under his hand and loving every moment of it. He tightened his grip a little, watching her face redden a little as he shortened her air supply, then return to mostly normal as he relaxed again, toying with the power. It was rolling over him, physically and mentally, sweat stinging the lacerations on his face as his muscles undulated with his movements. His eyes were cold fire as they found hers, a grin twisting his expression as she moved beneath him, captivating him.

She, on the other hand, was only too happy surrender control to him, drive every last lingering thought from her mind until she was nothing but a gasping mess of building need. She could only withstand meeting his eyes for a moment before she had to close her own, the sheer intensity bearing down on her. And, after another moment, she had to sacrifice the relative stability she'd given herself by bracing against the headboard so she could clutch desperately at his back, biting her lip hard enough to hurt to keep herself from getting truly loud.

In that moment, he owned her, and it was glorious. His free hand wrapped around her, pulling her up by throat and waist until she was in his lap as he knelt. Then he released her throat, both hands dropping to her hips to keep her moving, snarling in pleasure as he got close.

She clung on tightly to him as he practically picked up her up, sliding her hands into his short hair and scraping the back of his neck. Now that she was straddling his waist it was so much easier to move with him, rolling her hips down onto his as hard as she could manage, breathing hard against his shoulder as she could feel herself building up to the brink.

"It's soundpr-roof, he panted with a smirk as he caught a glimpse of her pained expression. "Paid extra. L-let loose." He jolted his hips against hers and let out a muffled groan as she matched him move for move.

She didn't think she could have kept herself quiet, anyways. She came with a scream that she tried vainly to muffle into her own arm, arching against him as pleasure shot up her spine like electricity. "J- esus Chr-iist."

He could see the sensations he was feeling pulsing behind his eyelids in waves of colors, some bright and raw, others subversive, in the background, lending everything a tint. His breath caught in his throat as she came, and his fingers dug into her skin, turning it white under his grip. "N-not my na-ame," he managed to grit out with a smirk, but that was lost as she tilted her hips slightly and tightened around him, and he buried his face against her shoulder.

She was shaking against him, muscles in her thighs twitching slightly. "I think you broke me," she muttered into his collarbone, then stopped talking to try and conserve her breath. Both of them had accumulated a light sheen of sweat during their.. activities, and now the cool air felt somehow both nice and a little too cool. She couldn't deny that she felt fucking great, though.

"If you're looking for an apology you're in the wrong bed," he muttered, shifting her off of his lap and flopping sideways onto the mattress with a soft groan.

Lorna chuckled blearily, collapsing beside him. Then she made a mildly irritated noise and buried her face in one of the pillows. "Help remind me to take the pill tomorrow. I usually remember, but I don't want to forget," she snorted, then rolled onto her side and shifted to grab the sheets.

"I'll remember, don't worry," he muttered, laying on top of the sheets for the time being. "Not a problem I'm interested in dealing with."

She made a noise of agreement. "I plan on never letting it become a problem," she yawned, curling up a bit to make up for the sudden loss of another person's warmth.

"Amen," he muttered, reaching over to set an alarm before closing his eyes with a sigh.

She followed suit, wrapping herself further up in the covers and falling into an exhausted sleep.

The alarm blared loud and clear through the haze of sleep, and he sat up, scanning the room before shutting it off, rubbing his eyes and then nudging Harrison as he climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.

She got up with a few swears muttered under her breath, and followed him. He'd rather made a mess of her last night, and she didn't fancy getting back into the same clothes she'd worn yesterday while she felt so.. sticky. "Budge over."

He did with a sigh. "There is such a thing as waiting your turn," he muttered, flicking her ear before reaching for the shampoo.

"The rest of your flat is very nice, yes, but one should always worry about the quality of the water heater," she yawned, ducking under the spray to douse herself as he was lathering up.

"Mhm," he muttered, leaning in to rinse his short-cropped hair, letting out a quiet curse as shampoo made it into one of the cuts and reaching out of the shower for a towel to get it off.

She grabbed it for him, now that she was closer, trading him for the shampoo. This was oddly domestic of them. "If I was asleep when you came to bed, would you have woken me anyway?"

"What sort of a question is that?" he asked as he dried his face carefully.

"Mhm. Thought so," she chuckled, setting the shampoo on the shelf and washing her hair. "Not much a question at all, apparently."

"No, that wasn't my answer," he said, tossing the towel out onto the floor and catching her gaze. "That was a serious question. Because that sounded an awful lot like a warning flag."

She frowned at him, a hand falling to her hip. "I was curious, Moran, don't get worked up about it. You know how much of my world revolves around me. I simply like knowing how long someone's been planning on getting in my pants." And she had meant it that way, but looking back on it, she could see why he thought that. Fuck, sometimes she thought that.

He started to wash his body. "You seem more familiar lately. Jumped in here without a second glance, mouthing off last night. Admittedly I had you over for drinks, but you used to have a healthy fear and respect for me regardless of the situation. I want to make sure our physical interactions aren't affecting that. Because I think it has."

She sighed, stepping out of the shower and grabbing another towel. "I'd like to point out that I've been mouthing off to you for the last few years off and on without ever having touched you. Reckless backtalk is one of my bigger flaws, I'll admit it," she shrugged, wrapping the towel around her torso and gathering her wet hair over her shoulder. "But you don't need to worry about the respect part, and most definitely not the fear part. When you get angry I get fear nausea." She was not lying.

He studied her carefully, eyes locked on hers, but he nodded just a little. "As long as we're clear."

"Crystal," she muttered, drying off her hair with the towel before hanging it up and walking back out of the bathroom to pick up her clothes and get dressed. She hated it when he got all stiff.

He nodded, starting to get dressed as well. "Any last minute questions about your assignment?"

"Where's he going to be before his shift? Hard to invent a creative way of bumping into someone if you don't know where they are," she hummed, bending to grab her jacket. She'd have to go home to get changed and to swallow the little assurance that there wasn't going to be a problem, but then she could start.

"He generally has brunch over at a greasy diner near his place, I'll get the name off the file," he called from where he was shaving.

"Can you text it? I'll murder innocent bystanders if I don't get some caffeine or alcohol into me soon," she leaned into the doorway to the bathroom, already poised to leave. Sticking around him for any period of time when he started doing this - especially not even at work, Christ - was unbearable.

"Yup. Bye," he said, tilting his head back to check that he'd gotten near his ears. "Take the blue phone on the counter. Let me know when it's done."

"I will," she nodded, immediately leaving the room and heading down the stairs, trying to escape the oppressive feeling bearing down on her, and slipped the blue phone into her pocket on the way out.

He smiled as he heard the door shut, and dried his face, walking to get dressed. She'd been more malleable than he anticipated. Everything had gone perfectly. He felt, somewhere deep in his rusty soul, a twinge of something, but it didn't bother him.

Lorna wiped her smudged lipstick off with the back of sleeve as she texted Moran one-handed. She didn't like this jacket much, anyhow.

It's done. He'll do whatever you need him to do. If he doesn't, remind him of the pictures I now have in my possession. LH

He glanced at the phone, and nodded his approval. Excellent. I assume you've given me some way to contact him?

She forwarded the man's number, followed by another text. What is this, amateur hour? Do you need anything else?

No. Ditch phone. He wiped his prints off of his own and did the same, tossing it down onto the tracks in front of a train as it sped by, before pulling out another ditch phone and texting the number Lorna had sent him.

Mr. Maccabbee. Are you ready?

Lorna did as told, following regulation and thoroughly destroying the phone. And then not following regulation and throwing it in front of a passing bus for fun.

Ernest's palms were sweating when the phone buzzed in his pocket. An unknown number, and presumably an unknown person on the other side. This was why his mother had warned him about women with tight skirts and red lips. Yes.

Good, I'm glad to hear it. He could almost feel the other man's anguish through the phone, and it was invigorating. He had always understood Jim's highs in the middle of playing the game, but it was less often that he got to share it. What number train are you driving right now? He knew, but best not reveal too many cards at once.

Number 16

He did, in fact, feel exceedingly nervous about operating the tram and texting at the same time.

Excellent. You will follow instructions without question or delay. He watched as the train pulled into the station, and boarded the last car, which (thanks to a bit of money changing hands) had TRANSPORTING FOR MAINTENANCE, DO NOT BOARD written across the door in clean block letters.

Okay. Was all Ernest could think to reply with. What else was he supposed to say?

He sat down, counting the stops as they went by. Then the doors opened and a familiar figure boarded quietly, and sat across from him. The doors closed and there was silence for a long moment. Then "The car's loaded with what we need. You have the equipment?"