Rule number one
Is that you gotta have fun
But, baby, when you're done
You gotta be the first to run

- MARINA - How to Be a Heartbreaker -

The next few days were... interesting, to say the least. Teaching Sebastian Moran how to grift was an adventure. Especially the field training. Now they were sitting in a relatively nice Italian restaurant at dusk, and she gave him a surreptitious swat with her napkin. "Stop it. You keep turning the intimidation back on. Smile like you've got a dirty joke in your head, not like you're imagining gutting a cat."

He grimaced, but then tried to change the smile. "I'm not trying to. Intimidation is my natural charm," he muttered, shaking his head.

"And that will be enough for crazy people like me, but you're going to have to soften it up for timid little things like our waitress. Although to be fair, I doubt my presence is helping. I'd be intimidated too, if I was her," she shook her head, taking a sip from her wine. "At least you have table manners. I've had to teach people those, if you can believe it."

"I can," he snorted, nodding. "But when you're the son of a politician you learn." He tried to make himself less intimidating, but was having trouble figuring out how.

She watched him over her glass for a moment in quiet amusement, then decided to step in. "Relax your posture. Slouch your shoulders a little, lean back, have at least one hand visible on the table. When you smile, don't feel the need to show your teeth. Most people can't pull off a realistic grin if they don't mean it. You might make people more comfortable if you seem shy, anyway."

He tried to do as she asked, the slumped posture grating on him. "I feel ridiculous," he muttered, annoyed.

"Oh, hush. Drink some wine. You need to loosen..." she trailed off, movement heading towards them catching her eye. Oh boy. Acquaintances. "Hold that thought. Some old coworkers approaching. Already seen me."

He instantly forgot about grifting, straightening again, lines hardening all over as he solidified back into intimidating, shifting his shoulder to reassure himself of his gun. "Who?"

She didn't have a chance to answer his question. Two men in business casual pulled out chairs at their table and sat without invitation, the taller, hardier looking one smiling. The other was expressionless, and kept his eyes on Moran, obviously seeing him as a threat. "Well, if it isn't the Widow herself, Adam," said the smiling one, though his grin was directed at Lorna. "Now what could she be doing back in New York fucking City?"

Lorna let out a long breath, tapping the table idly. "Joel. Adam. This has got nothing to do with Armetti. You can stop looking at me like you're a fucking hyena."

Fuck. Armetti. His expression remained unchanged, and he ignored Adam with an apathetic disdain. "These some of your former playmates, Harrison?" he asked idly, sounding bored. "Any guess on why they're interrupting dinner?"

"None at all," she replied icily, giving Joel a cold stare. He looked unperturbed.

"It would have been rude of us to see you over here suffering such unpleasant company and not come over to say hello," he grinned, taking the wine glass in front of her and taking an unabashed sip. "And, Christ almighty, what would Mr. Armetti have had to say to us if we'd passed up the opportunity to say hello to his, dare I say, favorite little assassin. Although I hear you quit that line of work. Sad."

Lorna grit her teeth, glancing at Adam. Even if she made a move in this crowded restaurant (which she wouldn't) Adam was the bigger threat. Joel was really more of a nuisance. "Funnily enough, here I am, looking to kill someone. Keep off my toes and it won't be you."

Sebastian decided that was a good time to switch from neutral to a cold, broad smile while Adam blinked, which threw the other man off for a moment and gave him a small victory in their battle of intimidation.

"Oh? My my my, must be some special nut to have pulled you back into the game... Who's the mark?" Joel sneered.

"Keenan Mallory. Unless he's working with you lot. Then it's someone else," she smirked, though it was a little more dangerous than the ones she normally gave. "I don't suppose you know where he is?"

For the first time, Joel looked interested in more than causing trouble, and even Adam perked up slightly. "That prick?" he asked with a small grin. "Interesting..."

Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket, starting to scroll down the screen, then looked over at Joel, eyebrows raising slightly. "Do you want me to talk to the boss? I'm not bringing the fucking Widow in without approval."

Joel nodded.

"Bringing the fucking Widow into what, now?" Moran asked, sounding almost bored, though his ears were perked.

Adam didn't answer, just got up from his seat and left, raising the phone to his ear as he went. Joel gave the two of them a slightly calculating look, then seemed to cave. "Mr. Armetti doesn't like little kids like Mallory trying to push into his turf. I don't think I have to spell out what that means, do I?"

"I'm not sure," Moran drawled. "I think the meaning might be lost under the condescension."

Joel gave Moran a disparaging look. "Then you'll just have to wait until the goddamn boss gives us the go-ahead, won't you?" he snorted, sitting back in his seat with what had formerly been Lorna's wine.

"Play nice, or you're going to be buying me a bottle of what you have in your hand," she said coolly, tone suggesting that it was absolutely not open for negotiation.

He quirked an eyebrow, but raised the glass slightly in her direction as he took a sip. "So, then, Widow. What have you been up to other than fucking your way across the world?"

"I don't fuck my way across the world, darling, I fuck my way up it," she corrected, giving him a snide smile. She wondered what Sebastian made of all this. "But, to answer your question, getting my shit kicked in all the time, or what feels like it. Christ, I shudder to think what Armetti would get up to if he had those fucking beetles."

"Doubtless much different from Holmes," Moran smirked. "Just be glad no one's released them into the wild."

Joel was looking like he was wondering whether or not they were suffering from a mutual insanity when Adam came back and sank back into the empty seat, setting his phone on the table. "Mr. Armetti would like to meet with you two, if that's agreeable to you," he said, without much inflection. Lorna knew from experience that he was just parroting what the man on the other end of the line had said. She looked over at Sebastian, raising her eyebrows slightly.

He nodded just slightly, and stood. "We're a little pressed for time, but I suppose we can take a few moments."

The rest of the table rose as well, and then Joel led them out of the restaurant and onto the street, where he produced a set of car keys and unlocked a silver Mercedes. Lorna got into the back with Sebastian, and when Adam slipped around to the passenger side and climbed in, they pulled away from the curb. Unlike with DeWitt, there was really nothing that she could warn Moran about in advance. Armetti was a sick bastard, but a reliable one, and one of his word. Her relationship with him (because she had had a relationship with him) had been very different to the one she'd had with DeWitt. The fact that when she'd wanted out he'd let her go was a very telling one.

They pulled up to the old brownstone building only a few minutes later, and she was surprised she'd let her guard down enough to stray so close. Maybe it was her all-encompassing hatred of the entire city. It didn't really matter, now.

Moran kept an eye on Lorna out of the corner of his eye as they drove. She seemed lost in thought, but not overly troubled, so he let her contemplate without interference.

The car stopped at a brownstone building, and he climbed out when Armetti's men did. From what he knew of Armetti, this was going to be an interesting meeting.

"This way," Joel said, and started leading them into the building.

Lorna made herself be a little more alert as she got out of the car and walked up the steps, not surprised to notice that there still were no security cameras covering the entrances. The inside of the brownstone was decorated like a house. Armetti, unlike Jim, didn't believe in holding one large base of operations. His network was looser, more fluid, though sometimes it tended to knot up in unexpected ways. Joel brought them upstairs and down the hall, opening the door for them to reveal a well-furnished office. There, a man with dark hair and eyes, who looked to be around the same age as Lorna, sat behind a mahogany desk. He looked like he'd been waiting patiently for them. "Hello. Take a seat. Either of you want anything to drink?"

Moran waved his hand slightly to pass on the offer. "How about we just get down to business, I'm not here to waste time. You want in on my operation? Make your offer."

Armetti gave Moran a slightly tired smile. "Mr. Moran, I've been on this kid for 6 months. Not to mention, I have the numbers here. I think I'm going to continue to call it my op, if you don't mind." He sat back, the leather of his chair squeaking a little. "I would have had you poisoned in that prison if I hadn't known you were with Lorna." His brown eyes flicked over to her, a critical eye hovering over the more obvious scars peeking out from her collar. "I apologize for the tails a few months ago. They acted without orders. I rectified the situation when I learned."

She nodded, though inside she was absolutely unsurprised to hear that he'd been the one to pick off her tails. Vincent Armetti with a vendetta was a frightening thing. But then, it had never really been clear to her whether or not he'd moved on from his partner in crime. "Thank you. I know that must have cost some resources."

Moran raised an eyebrow. "We've been on Mallory for just as long, if not longer. We'll consider cooperating with your operation, but we aren't going to take orders." He glanced at Lorna. "I do appreciate the gesture of not attempting to kill me."

Lorna smirked a little as Armetti let out a small sigh. "Alright. I know when I'm in the wrong," he shrugged, bending to pull a drawer out in his desk and drew out a thick file folder. He tossed it to Lorna, and she caught it with a thwap of paper against her palm. "That's all I have on him. If this comes back to bite me in the ass, I'm going to get considerably less friendly." His eyes focused on Moran, and they already looked considerably less friendly. There was a pause. Lorna scraped her nail across the manilla folder, a muscle in her jaw jumping. "I saw the trial. If her testimony was true... well..." He crossed his arms over his chest, expression mild, despite the threat that lurked under the service. "I won't insult her by threatening you."

He took the folder, but didn't drop Armetti's gaze. "If you think for a second that I would touch her like that, then you have a lot to learn about me," he said, expression cold at the accusation. "And if it were true, she would have testified under her own name, and probably wouldn't be quite so comfortable having dinner with me this evening." His voice was a bit waspish, but then he let it calm slightly, sitting back. "My apologies. I'm used to working with Moriarty. It takes getting used to, working with someone less... observant."

Lorna let out an exasperated sigh before Armetti could respond, though he was looking vaguely stormy. "Christ. I know which one of you has the bigger cock, so Vince, stop puffing up like a lovesick pidgeon, and Sebastian, for god's sake, don't antagonize him. I know it's tempting, believe me," she snorted, snatching the folder back from him and slapping it down onto the desk to open it. "Honestly. You've already insulted me, Vince, if you think I'd have let him live. Can we get on with it?"

Both of them considered her, looking torn between confidently wanting to know and the small part of them that didn't want to know, just in case. At her last sentence though, they both focused, and Sebastian nodded a little. "Fine. Let's have a go at the folder."

Armetti sighed, grabbing a stray piece of paper off his desk and a pen and scrawling down a phone number to slide across to them. "This is my personal number. Look over the folder wherever you want, just not here. I have other concerns to worry about. When you want to move on Mallory, text me, I'll allocate resources to you."

He nodded, and stood. "I appreciate your cooperation," he said with a small smirk, before heading for the door, Lorna just behind.

Lorna waited until they were outside and had hailed a cab before she spoke, glancing over at him. "So I assume you're wondering what makes him a sick bastard. Among other things."

"Given that we're going to be working with him, I'd appreciate a few details, yes," he said, not bothering to bring up the elephant in the room. He wondered vaguely how many of her employers she'd slept with, then decided it wasn't his business.

"He's real big on the killing the children of his enemies. And... not kindly. He's a quieter type of crazy than Jim, but..." she shook her head, leaning back against the seat with a sigh. "He's vindictive. He kills people who are still useful to him just because they did something like scuff the floor. And I've never seen him kill someone with a gun. I don't like the person I was when I worked here. He only encouraged that side of me. Once I realized I was actually enjoying crucifying people, I left." She was silent for a moment, then smirked a little. "You're bigger, by the way. Just so that doesn't eat at you."

"It wasn't," he snorted, though something relaxed a little and he smirked. Then his mind wandered back to what she'd told him. "Oddly enough, other than the child-killing, he sounds like someone I would get along with."

She nodded. "I can believe it. He's a man of his word, and usually reliable, as long as you don't fuck up on a bad day. This was my first real job, I suppose, after DeWitt. I did the up-close and personal hits. You can guess how personal. When I left, I thought it was better to just cut the killing part out, market myself for espionage."

He nodded a little, leaning back as they moved further away, relaxing slowly. "He was jealous," he smirked after a moment.

"What? Of you?" she chuckled, smirking, "Well, most of the men I've slept with would be. Maybe not some of the women. Generally better at staying faithful to any relationship, I've found."

He sighed, and smiled. "Every time you bring that image up, I have to pause and enjoy it. I'm not sure why. I'm just as into the men as you are, but you with another woman..." He sighed again, trailed off in contemplation, and then sobered up and reached out for the folder. "Come on, let's see what we've got."

She chuckled, and leaned over to read over his shoulder.

It was a full 48 hours before she got the simple 'Hi' text, and she wasn't surprised when it arrived. Armetti was one to ask for debts to be repaid.

Hi. You need something? LH

The reply was quick to come, but brief.

Something to discuss. Dinner at Artie's, 7pm?

She sighed, but conceded.

Alright. See you then. LH

She set her phone on the coffee table, looking at Sebastian where he was focusing intently on his laptop. "I have to have dinner with Armetti tonight. He wants something in return for his help, from what I can tell."

He glanced up, and the muscles around his eyes tightened slightly. "Should I go with you?"

"No need," she shrugged. "If there was anything dangerous or urgent we wouldn't be talking about it over dinner. Little irritating that he can't just text me the details, but whatever, I guess."

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Keep me updated. I want to know where you are and if you're in trouble."

"You got it," she hummed, picking her phone back off the table to check the time, and then getting up to get ready.