He came out a few minutes later and grabbed the bottle of scotch out of the cabinet, putting it in his bag. "Ready to go?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She resisted saying something along the lines of 'I was born ready, bitch,' and nodded, getting up and leading the way to the door. "How much of that scotch do you think you're willing to sacrifice tonight?"
"Depends on how conscious you want to be for my massage," he retorted, making sure the door was closed tight before heading for the elevator.
"You should be careful," she advised, smirking slightly as she stepped into the lift - obviously people were using the stairs after Moran's 'management by terror' that day. "I might just melt, and then where will you be?"
"Hmmmm... In a room with a beautiful, naked woman who has melted under my ministrations...?" he sighed, looking confused. "Where to begin...?"
"Alright, shush, you're going to get yourself in trouble," she smirked, stepping out into the garage as the doors opened with a cheerful ding. "I assume we're not taking a car that's going to make me tense up."
"No, I suppose we can take a boring one," he smirked. "Would you prefer a Volkswagen or a mini-van?"
"Volkswagen," she replied seriously, immediately turning for it. "And you know, I do like the other cars. They're fantastic, and they look even better. But your driving... is a little exciting for me."
"Do you want to drive?" he asked with a sigh, heading after her as the chauffeur scrambled forward from his cubby to provide the key.
"You can drive as excitedly as you want in a Volks, I'm fairly certain I'll survive the experience, she chuckled, waving at the chauffeur wryly. She wondered if he knew how much he owed his job to her.
"I'm not going to test your confidence, though with a statement like that I really should," he smirked, climbing into the driver's seat, tossing his bag in the back, and starting the engine.
She buckled up, as she always did when she entered a car with Moran in it, stuffing her bag at her feet. "How far away is this particular place?"
"About a half hour, if traffic's normal. Light and we'll be there in twenty minutes," he said, pulling out onto the street and heading for the northern reaches of London.
She nodded, and, because she really was tired from sparring, spent the ride mostly in silence, content to just sit there without forcing conversation.
She was a little surprised where they ended up. "This is ritzier than I was expecting, actually."
"My life involves a large paycheck, frequent external commissions, and little personal time. Things accumulate. You splurge," he says with a smirk, pulling into the adjoined parking garage.
"No fucking kidding," she snorted. "And I thought you were burning down money with the other flat we literally exploded. Boy was I wrong. Oh my god, how big is your tub?"
"It's more of a jacuzzi," he said with a smirk, turning the car off and getting out, grabbing his bag out of the back seat. "This is my favorite place I have. Great view. Come on."
She followed, remembering at the last moment to get her own stuff. She was a little dazzled, honestly. She'd been in rich places, yeah, but that was all for work. Work, which was not conducive to relaxation. "You know, at this point, why not just own a spa?" she wondered aloud, only half joking, as they stepped into a very nice kitchen. And she had to give it to him. It was tasteful.
"I'll consider that next time I'm thinking of buying," he laughed, pulling the scotch out of the bag and setting it on the counter. "Come on, it's not small. I'll show you around."
"Sounds good," she hummed, holding onto her stuff for when they passed a bedroom. Or rather, The Bedroom, because she didn't doubt there were at least two, maybe three rooms containing beds in this place. She wondered how he didn't go insane when he lived in the HQ flat, after having the run of a place like this.
He walked through the living room which was divided from the kitchen by a counter island, and had a state-of-the-art entertainment center. It had a high ceiling, three sides of the above space opening up into a second floor. A wood and wrought-iron spiral staircase ran up in the corner. The last wall was broken up by windows which looked out on the city below.
He walked through into the large master bedroom, which painted orange and burgundy, with a rosy wooden floor. The wall across from the door had a minimalist window seat with a kneeling desk in front of it, and a door on the other was open just enough to reveal a bathroom. He put down his bag on the large bed. "You can leave your stuff here," he said, glancing at Lorna with a smile. "I'll show you the rest of the place."
She set her stuff down next to his, surprised at herself for not whistling yet. She was just too stunned, she supposed. Sebastian's wardrobe should have been a clue to this, if she'd really given any thought to it. "Christ, this place is beautiful, Moran. You must have a bitchin' real estate agent," she shook her head faintly, constantly finding new details in corners or on shelves that she liked.
"I'm glad you like it," he said, smiling and walking back into the hallway. "I think you left your jaw back here, somewhere.."
"Ha ha, like I would mess up your decor like that," she quipped, rolling her eyes as she followed him. "Seriously, though, what do you use all this space for? It's gorgeous, don't get me wrong. I never figured you the type for it, though."
He shrugged a little. "I like it," he said as he headed for the staircase. "I like having a place that I know I can go and it's quiet and mine. I grew up in a small space I had no control over. I like a big one that's made up just how I designed it."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that you designed this, oh my god, because I might faint and-slash-or throw myself into your manly, interior-decorating arms, and I feel like that might interfere with the plans you already seem to have made," she laughed, reaching the top of the stairs about six seconds after him, slowed a little by her sore thigh.
He smirked a little. "Yet another one of those 'spread this around and you will find yourself slowly dead' moments, but I figure you know that by now," he said with a laugh. "Guest bedroom there," he said, pushing the door open so she could peer in. "Full bath connects to the next room," he said, walking down to the next door and stepping through, "which is my dojang, for the most part." The room was simple, light green walls and more windows, weights and a kicking bag in the corner. "Only problem is that in the summer the sun hits right on the windows and the temperature in here is incredible."
"Everything in this place is incredible, that's hardly surprising," she chuckled, though still ogling everything in sight, feeling extremely outclassed. It was just so surprising. Where had he got it from? Obviously not his father, judging by the ostentatious, obnoxious poshness that the Lord lived in. How could he have picked this up in the army, either? Either it was innate talent, or it was Jim, and she kind of doubted Jim took the time to teach Moran the finer intricacies of interior design. "You know, if this crime thing doesn't work out, you could make a killing. Pun intended."
"Oh, ow, that's just rude," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "I should get a sign for the door. 'No puns'. He walked around the corner of the balcony-like hallway, pointing to the far side. "That's just a big office for if I have to do business here, this side is a storage room and a game lounge. And that's the extent of it." He leaned against the rail, looking down into the center of the room.
"Christ. I've run out of significant praise. All I have left is 'wow'. A lot of 'wow's." She kept turning, looking at as much as she could, until she'd gone in a circle twice and she had to stop at the risk of feeling silly. "Wow."
He laughed just a little, nodding. "Guest room is bloody useless. You're the first person I've brought here," he snorted, heading for the stairs. "Want something to eat or drink?"
"I mean, there's that bottle sitting in the kitchen so promisingly- hey, what?" she frowned, following him down, again with a little more hobbling. "How the hell do you have this place stocked? Magic?"
"Food-wise? I have non-perishables and frozen goods stocked in case I ever need to hide out here short-notice," he said, entering the kitchen. "I can't make anything fancy, but I can do a bunch of different kinds of pasta, or steaks, or... I'm not sure what else in here, but it's here." He walked over to a set of cabinets in the wall and pulled them all open at once, revealing that they were actually the door to an in-wall refrigerator.
"Christ," she said again, because she couldn't help it. "But no, I'm not hungry. Had a pretty good meal before we sparred. Lucky you didn't elbow me in the stomach or anything."
"Yeah, that wouldn't have been pleasant," he agreed, pulling out a frozen bagel and turning to put it in the toaster, shutting the cabinet with his foot. "Drink, then?"
"Yes, please. I need a little numbing for my leg or I'm just going to give up and sit in the middle of your floor," she snorted, already leaning against the counter, favoring said leg.
He nodded in agreement, grabbing glasses from a real cabinet and turning around to pour them both a decent serving of the scotch. He handed her her glass, leaning against the counter next to her. "So, still interested in that bath once I've eaten?"
"After you mentioned something about a jacuzzi? Who the fuck am I, a nun?" She knocked back a good portion of her scotch for medicinal purposes, then took it more slow. "Yes, before you try and spin that against me. I know you."
He glared as she preempted his quip and stalked over to retrieve his bagel, hiding a smirk. "Puns and joy-killing. Why did I invite you again?"
"I'm really hot. Also, sometimes I make some food that's edible, so there's really no downside," she shrugged, grinning. She loved being one step ahead of him, whenever she could swing it. "Plus, who else do you know that would appreciate your design choices like me?"
He sighed dramatically. "I suppose I'm stuck with you then," he said, rolling his eyes and taking a bite of his bagel.
"It does seem to look that way, doesn't it?" she said with mock-sympathy, smiling and taking a sip of scotch. "Whatever are you going to do with me?"
"I thought I gave you tonight's schedule," he smirked after swallowing his bite of bagel. "Do you need it written down?"
"I guess I was fishing for a few details, but I see you're not feeling particularly forthcoming," she teased, finishing off her scotch. She'd gone through it fast. She didn't really want another. That bath, though...
"When have you ever- ever - known me to be forthcoming?" he asked, before quickly finishing the last of his bagel and picking up his drink. "What are you up for?"
"I'm up for being warm and relaxed. And clean, I'm just a little bit sweaty from our workout," she smirked, setting her glass down on the counter with a clink.
"Bath it is," he says, bringing his glass with him as he headed back in the direction of his bedroom and through to the bathroom. The bathroom was large, almost half the size of the bedroom. In one corner was a large shower and a toilet, then a long wall of counter and mirror, and at the other end a jacuzzi the size of a hot tub.
"Up to your bath-needs?" he asks with a grin.
"I don't know, maybe," she hedged, then laughed, looking at him kinda disbelievingly. "Fuck yes. Can I take it home with me?"
"If you can find a way to transport it," he laughed, reaching out to turn on the tap, and then adding a bit of water softener from a nearby bottle, leaning back against the wall. "So, am I invited to this party or would you prefer I leave you in peace?"
"Yeah, you're invited," she chuckled, sitting on the edge of the tub as it filled so she wouldn't strain herself. "I mean, unless you think somehow the two of aren't going to fit, but this thing is maybe a gallon short of an Olympic swimming pool."
He laughed, rolling his eyes, and sat on the edge of the tub, starting to pull off his clothes. "Yeah, they were out of the Olympic-sized ones."
"Shit, that's a shame. You could have invited the whole office," she stated, following suit and gingerly shucking her shirt off. "But I guess that might get awkward."
"Just a little. I've thought about inviting Jim once or twice, but never quite decided how that would go over." He reached in to test the water temperature and made a face, shaking his finger off and reaching over to turn the temperature of the tap down a little.
"I can see him saying something snide," she agreed, standing to get rid of the rest of her clothes. She was sore, and she would be happy to get in water that was just below scalding. "If he came, though, I think he'd be impressed. You've got style."
He shrugged, and smirked. "Maybe. It's not my job to have style, I'm not sure how impressed he would actually be."
The tub was about half full at this point, and he stood, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a couple of towels, walking back and setting them on the counter before stepping into the water and sinking to a seat at the far side of the tub with a sigh.
"Mm, you're probably right," she sighed, stepping in after him and sinking down on the other side, hissing as the hot water enveloped her multiple bruises. "I guess I was operating off the idea that even Jim has to think of something without being in context with the job."
"Oh, he does," he says, nodding. "But I'm part of the job, so when that gets set aside, so do I. I doubt he would be inclined to separate me from it."
She sighed again. "Well, I guess it could be worse. I've had bosses who didn't separate personals and business at all. I guess you kinda know that. Honestly, I prefer Jim's general disinterest."
"True," he said, leaning back against the wall of a tub with a sigh before reaching out to shut the tap off as it filled. "Jet and bubbler controls are by your left elbow. Have fun."
A 'kid in a candy shop' expression appeared on her face. She spent the next three minutes fiddling with the controls, until she found a good combination of pressure and positioning, and then she melted, letting out a happy groan. "Christ. I never want to leave."
He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, shifting until he was resting comfortably against the jets on his side. "I always forget how nice this is," he sighs.
"Thank god neither of us are drunk. I could totally see us drowning in here because we fell asleep," she hummed, dunking down enough to get her hair wet.
"There are so many worse ways to go, honestly, though," he said with a smirk, sinking a bit lower in the water. After a few moments he said "So. Favorite movie."
She grinned, although she almost shocked that he wanted to know. How often did they have normal-people conversations? "The prepared job answer is Casablanca, but my actual favorite is the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I rarely have the time to sit down and watch them, though."
He laughed at that, opening his eyes again. "I love those movies. Though the fight choreography and weapons use is sometimes painfully inaccurate. Still enjoyable. I might have them here... I can't remember if they're here or at the downtown place..."
"I would ask to you to check, but watching those movies isn't really relaxing. I try to say the lines with them. It's a personal challenge," she chuckled, stretching a little. "If you ever want to watch them with me you'll probably have to duct tape my mouth shut."
He snorts a little with laughter. "Of course you do. You're such a nerd," he said, rolling his eyes and splashing her lightly.
"Yeah, but you put up with it," she retorted, flicking a little water his way with a smirk.
"It appears I do. Fuck knows why," he snorts, though he's smiling. "How's your back feeling?"
"Better. It's amazing what a hot bath will do. And jacuzzi jets," she added, chuckling. "I do want to get out before I get prune-y and I get old-people hands." She waved her fingers at him.
"Fair enough. You've got time, though," he sighed, shifting to get the jets to a new place. "And then I owe you a massage, I believe, if you're still interested."
She snorted. "The day I'm not interested, you need to make sure an impostor hasn't taken over my life, because that is the only reason that would happen."
"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed, stretching with a groan. "I've even got massage oil from when some peon tried to buy me off."
She let out a startled laugh. "What? Oh my god, what were they even trying to get from you? Favor or some shit?"
"I think they were trying to lighten the blow of an abject failure. What they actually did was change their status of 'punished' to 'terminated', but it was nice massage oil." He smirked at the memory.
"God, what an idiot," she snickered, shaking her head. Even when she'd been a peon - and she had been, she hadn't started out at the top of her department - she'd been smart enough to give Sebastian Moran a wide berth. She'd seen the people he'd left in his wake, and she'd learned from their mistakes. Though she'd never even considered the thought that she would get to know him personally. Sleeping with him, sure; how many times had she climbed the corporate ladder with sex? But this? No one could have seen this coming. "I honestly cannot imagine someone trying to bribe you. It must be like trying to convince a volcano not to blow up."
"Actually I rather think it's like sticking some dynamite in a volcano as an attempt to deter it," he snorted. "It won't do anything but make your situation a tiny bit worse." He relaxed for a few more minutes, then finally stood, crossing the tub and stepping out, grabbing a towel and starting to dry off.
It took her another minute to get in gear, because she had to convince herself that leaving the (admittedly, cooling) tub and putting weight on her leg again was worth it. But she did get up, with minimal noises of complaint, and took the other towel to pat herself down.
He noticed that she was still favoring her leg, though less so, and nodded towards his bedroom. "Come on, if you make it to my bed you don't have to get up again if you don't want to," he chuckles.
"Deal," she said, drying her hair as much as she could and dropping her towel on the counter before heading into the bedroom, collapsing on the mattress face-down. "Even your fucking bed is magical," she laughed, rolling onto her back. "At this point I just need to stop being surprised."
"That would probably save you a little energy, yes," he chuckled, heading to the closet and pulling out a sheet he didn't care about, spreading it out on the side of the bed she wasn't on. "Here, onto this, I'd rather not get oil all over everything."
She scooted over, stretching out before rolling onto her stomach, figuring that he was going to ask to her to anyway. "I'm ready to be pampered."
"Is that so?" he asked with a smirk, walking back over to his closet and digging through it until he found the bottle he was looking for. "And I'm the pampering type. Really."
She chuckled, resting her chin on her arms. "I thought it was worth a shot, but I guess I'll edit. How's 'I'm ready for sexual tension'? That more your speed?"
"I suppose that's a little better," he smirked, pouring some oil into his hand to warm it before turning his hand over and starting to smooth it across her back.
"What, not perfect? What would you call this, then?" she teased, relaxing under his touch with a sigh.
He'd call it a lot of things. Relaxation, enjoying her, an apology. Maybe a goodbye. Not that she would ever know that.
"Well, I don't know. Perfect for me would go a little beyond tension, but I suppose that's up to you," he said with a flippant smirk, adding a little more oil before setting the bottle aside, starting to rub her back gently, fingers pressing into muscles, careful of bruises.
She laughed, then groaned, burying her face in her arm. "You keep doing that, I'll do anything you want."
He knelt up on the bed, leaning over a little and working his fingers gently down the sides of her spine, before spreading out over the small of her back. "Anywhere in particular that could use a little relaxation?"
She made a sound into the crook of her arm, realized that was not an answer, and then shook her head. "No, just keep doing that. God, I really needed this."
"Okay," he chuckled, nodding. His hands were large compared to her back, side by side they covered the width of it easily, and that gave him an advantage. "You know, they teach you pressure points in hand-to-hand, but that information actually transfers fairly well to massage."
"You ever want to practice those, you're to welcome to use me anytime," she moaned, vaguely thinking that she had been right, and she was just going to melt right here.
He smiled a little, smoothing his hands over the oil again, warming it against her skin, his hands moving down over the back of her hips and the side of her ass, relaxing muscles there, and heading for her sore leg with careful touch.
She managed not to jump when his hand brushed the worst of the soreness, reminding herself not to tense up again, and the next time he passed by, the ache was a little less.
"Just try to relax, but tell me if something isn't helping," he said softly, avoiding the worst of the bruise. There wasn't anything massage would do for that.
"Mhmm," she mumbled, just so he knew she'd heard him. It was a testament to how far they'd come that she found his voice soothing. Although, it wasn't that surprising at the moment, when he was making her warm and unwound all over.
He smiled, working his way upwards again, his touch on her arse a bit more playful this time, though he went back to massaging her back, one hand working at the base of her neck gently. "Well, this is all knots, Christ, Harrison, you need to relax more."
"I've been under a lot of stress," she murmured, shrugging slightly. "Christ, though, that feels good. Thanks."
He smiled, leaning down to press his lips to the back of her neck as he finished there. "No problem. I'm certainly not complaining. The view is spectacular," he chuckled.
She shivered, then laughed quietly. "Yeah, I bet. It's award-winning by itself, but covered in oil? Mind-blowing."
"Very," he smirked, rubbing his hands over her skin a little longer before sitting back and wiping his hands off on the sheet. "Alright, you. You are officially tenderized."
"Sounds like you're going to throw me into a stew or something," she chuckled, arching off the sheet to stretch and then flopping back down, still on her stomach. "Did you say something earlier about going past sexual tension, or did my brain just shut down completely?"
"No, I might have mentioned that," he smirked, leaning down to kiss her shiny back, one hand sliding down over her arse and along the inside of her leg. "Interested?"
"Hell yes," she purred, stretching out like a cat, knowing the view of her ass would be, simply put, incredible. "After a massage like that? Anything you want, Tiger."
He grinned, his hand sliding back up between her legs, spreading them just a little, fingers brushing over her warm center. "That's nice to hear," he murmurs.
She could literally feel herself heat up under his touch, but she knew better than to try and chase his hand. "Is it too late to ask for minimal teasing?"
"No," he says, smiling a bit at that and withdrawing his hand, rolling her onto her back instead so that he could snog her properly.
She slid a hand into his hair, kissing him back eagerly, nipping at his lower lip. She wondered if he knew just how much he turned her on, when he set his mind to it. Hell, even when he didn't.
He pressed his body up against hers, relishing her warmth now that his body had cooled down from the hot water. His hands found a place on each of her shoulders, elbows supporting his weight as his tongue sought after hers.
Sometimes she forgot just how much bigger than her he was, and then she was reminded like this, and her hunger to just be utterly possessed by him tripled. Really, they both benefited from his tendency to mark her. She kissed him harder, the hand in his hair tightening.
He grinned, moaning softly, one hand moving from her shoulder down her side to her hip and grabbing hold, his own hips grinding down against hers firmly.
She gasped, the hand that wasn't in his short hair grabbing his ass, giving her a little purchase to reciprocate with, her heart hammering in her chest.
He bit her lip at that, groaning and pressing back into her hand a little, enjoying the grip. The hand on her hip slid to her thigh, shifting her leg outward just a little as he ground against her again, before shifting just enough to brush against her entrance, smiling against her lips.
She shivered, nails digging into his skin, a needy sound escaping her lips, muffled against his. "Sebastian, please," she breathed, always the one in a hurry, like if she didn't get enough of him now the opportunity would get taken away.
He rolled his hips slowly, lips finding the corner of her jaw, then a sensitive spot on her next. "Please what?" he asked, feigning ignorance, thumb tracing circles on her skin.
She dragged her nails down his back, arching up into him with as he found the spot on her throat that sent heat straight to her core. "Fuck me, mark me, just- for Christ's sake, you know perfectly well what I want," she groaned, grinding up into him.
He didn't play around any longer, pushing his hips forward slowly but firmly, burying his cock in her as his back arched slightly under the bite of her nails. He didn't say anything, just started to move, long, powerful motions, his teeth sinking into the spot he had just kissed as he growled against her skin.
Her breath hitched as he bottomed out, then he was moving and she couldn't keep herself quiet. "Sebastian, d- don't stop," she pleaded, voice shaking, his teeth having found such a sensitive spot on her throat that she could barely keep herself in check.
He grinned, releasing his bite on her for the moment, closing his eyes as he kept up his pace, his hand at her hip pulling her into him with each thrust, stooping slightly so his tongue could find her breasts.
She had to shift her grip from his arse to his shoulder, because she thought that maybe he wouldn't like to be sitting down in pain for the next few days, and she couldn't control her grip anymore, couldn't keep herself from drawing blood on his shoulder, hand falling to the sheets, her breath coming in swears and pants.
It was all he could do to keep himself from losing his rhythm of motion entirely. He lifted her hips up, shifting his knees underneath him and pulling her legs around his waist as he kept moving, teeth finding a new spot on her neck.
She braced one hand on the headboard above her, the other sliding down his side and back up, and finally settled for gripping his upper arm, holding on tight, too overwhelmed to keep still, pleasure burning her up from the inside out. And still she wanted more, wanted the life pounded out of her. "Is t-that - nngh - is that all you've g-got?"
He snarled against her skin, pulling back to look at her with her blood tinging his teeth where he'd broken skin. "You w-want more?" he panted, eyes blown out black. "Greedy..." But he was eager to take her. He pulled away, just for a moment, and pulled her roughly over onto her front, onto her hands and knees, kneeling up behind her and sinking into her again, the new angle giving him so much more freedom of movement as his body curled over hers, a hand finding her hair and gripping firmly.
She cried out, rocking back to meet his thrusts as best as she could, fists curling into the oil-stained sheet beneath her, the sound of threads ripping reaching her ears over their heavy breathing and her moans. Rarely ever did she let anyone have her like this, because it took a lot of trust not to really be able to see the person fucking you into oblivion, but god, did it feel good.
He buried his face in the back of her neck, picking up speed now, hips snapping forward as one arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him again and again, teeth grit as he started to get close.
She could feel herself teetering towards the edge, some thoroughly indecent noises leaving her mouth and her arms shaking. Not quite there, not quite there. "Sebastian," she gasped, a broken moan escaping her. "I-I'm close."
He responded with a nip at the top of her spine and the arm around her waist shifting until he could find her center in all of the movement, fingers finding her clit and rubbing circles.
She came hard, falling onto her elbows with a shout, arching back against him, nails tearing at the sheets.
He was lost in her, in the way she moved, her heat against him and sound of her voice, and he came a few seconds later, crying out against her neck as his hips jolted forward against hers.
She panted for breath as she came back down, just barely keeping herself from falling over with bone-deep satisfaction, her legs still shaking slightly. "I think you... you fucked the life out of me," she chuckled breathlessly.
"Seem to... be breathing pretty well for... for a dead person," he smirked, pulling away from her and reaching down absently to pull off the condom. He froze a second later. "Fuck."
It didn't take her long to realize why his mood had shifted so suddenly. It was hard not to, considering cum obeyed gravity, like everything else. "Shit," she groaned, laying down on her back and running a hand over her face. "Shit."
He closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. Calm. "I'm sorry," he said, voice as even and diplomatic as he could manage. "This is my fault. What do you want me to do?" The offer was genuine. "I can go get anything you want or need, whatever."
"It's not completely your fault, I should have been paying attention too," she sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, still looking a little flushed. "Fuck. I can't take a morning-after, our good friends down at the clinic have advised me that my liver is pretty much shot to hell... Christ. I was meaning to get back on the pill, I just haven't had the time."
He sits cross-legged, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands, trying to think. This could be bad, but it could be nothing. "Do we have any other options?"
She shook her head faintly. "Besides waiting it out? No. Christ... Okay, we'll know in a week. If I'm late and I come up positive we'll just use what I used after DeWitt. Simple. Not fun, but.."
He nods just a little, taking a breath. "Fuck, Lorna... I'm so sorry." He meant it. He'd been trying to help her forget about that shit and now he'd made it worse.
She frowned, reaching out to push his knee. "Stop it. Look, I'm okay, alright? Not fucking great, but I'm alright. I know what you're thinking but this- it's nothing alike. Nothing is the same." She started out strong and ended up a with a shudder in her voice, her mind deciding to play back the other event to help prove her point.
He looked up at the tremor in her voice, and after a moment's hesitation opened his arms, leaving her the choice of whether or not to accept the offer.
She shifted forward to crawl into his arms, trying to keep herself from remembering so much, trying to keep herself from crying. It was so hard to pretend it hadn't happened, harder to shut out than anything else she could remember. And she knew that if she found some way to get it out, it would be better, she could get rid of the flashbacks, of fucking seeing DeWitt, but it had a vice-like clamp on her throat, and DeWitt was too far away to reach.
He enveloped her carefully, shifting until he could lean back against the head of the bed. "You're safe," he whispers, because he knew she had believed him before, had relaxed. "He's not going to touch you here."
"I know," she said quietly, though her voice was laced with frustration. "I do. I just- I can't get it out of my head." She took a deep breath, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. "So many people in my line of work live with this. When I was still really learning the ropes here, a man pulled me aside and told me that drinking on the job was the best decision I could make. And he was right. I let it get out of hand, because I was just getting off the heroin, but he was right. And then fucking DeWitt. Smart enough to wait until I was sober."
He held her close and let her talk. He knew the frustration, being unable to pull oneself out of the fear, and so he just let her say what she needed to in a place she felt safe.
She lifted a hand and rubbed her eyes, letting out a long sigh. "I don't know how to move past this in a way that doesn't involve me and substance abuse. I have good days, but all it takes is one slip. Christ. I need a vacation. From life."
He nods just a little. "It'll get easier. We'll find him and kill him. That will help. It will."
"I just hope Mycroft hasn't put him in some witness protection program or some shit," she huffed, then shifted, moving off him. "I'm going to clean up. Really don't want to sleep this messy."
He nodded in agreement, standing as well to pull the ripped, oily sheet off of the bed and, after considering it for a moment, tossing it in the trash.
She came back out a minute later, looking mildly relieved and definitely feeling it, and crawled between the covers. "Well, apart from the aftermath, that was pretty fantastic sex."
He nodded in agreement, having cleaned off as well, now laying out on the bed staring up at the ceiling. He glanced over at her as she sat on the bed. "That is very true. It was."
She shifted over to curl up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Abruptly, she realized that she did actually love him. Why her mind had decided to offer up that information now... It didn't matter. She'd just keep that one to herself. "Alright, turn off the light, will you? I'm sure I'm going to have some hand-shaped bruises on my waist in the morning, and a watched pot doesn't boil."
He smirks a bit, reaching out to turn the light off as she asked. They lay there in silence for a while before he said "You can come here any time you like. I'll give you a key."
She was glad the lights were out, because she was shocked, and it must have shown on her face. "I.. Really? That would be fantastic," she said, in only a mildly surprised tone. She wrapped an arm around him, pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Thanks."
He was glad she couldn't see his expression, which was torn between content and saddened. "I hardly ever use it. Someone should."
"I guess I could use it when you have to go out of the country," she nodded, because sleeping in this big empty place when he was twenty minutes away wasn't very appealing.
"However you like," he said, nodding and then adding with a smirk- "Except for orgies. Strictly no orgies that I am not invited to."
She laughed. "Out of my job, I really have no desire to fuck anyone else, so I wouldn't worry about it. You're just too pretty."
"Aw shucks," he preened sarcastically, though he was smiling. "Stop trying to butter me up and go the fuck to sleep, Harrison."
She made a contrary noise, but really she was tired, so she just nestled further into him and relaxed, and within a few minutes was out, mind blessedly blank.
He didn't sleep much that night, but for once, it wasn't because of nightmares. He didn't know what the coming days would bring, but he knew that soon he would be risking everything. So he just relaxed, content to hold her while she slept, and relished that.
It startled him how much he'd changed since he first met her.
He didn't care.
Gimme one more night
One last goodbye
Let's do it one last time
- MARINA - Blue -