Sebastian went cold, teeth grit, and took a slow breath. "Those were different times. And you promised to protect her. Not threaten her further. Those were our terms." At least, if Mycroft wasn't lying, which who the hell knew at this point.
Lorna wasn't sure how she thawed herself out, but before Mycroft had formulated a good response she'd walked down the creaking stairs to stand at the bottom in an oversized t-shirt and her pants, eyes hard on the two of them. "You two really don't know how to use your inside voices, do you?"
He glanced over at her, standing quickly, as did Mycroft. "Sorry, Harrison. Did we wake you up? Holmes was just leaving."
"Yes, he was," she stated, gaze boring into Mycroft, who looked as cowed as he really ever could, which was not a lot.
"We'll continue this discussion later, Moran," he replied evenly, giving a small nod before he turned for the door and slipped out, leaving the two of them alone.
Moran walked over to shut the front door. "Right. Sorry about that. Back to bed then."
"Nice try," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "You know I heard what he said. That was what was in the file? Why didn't you tell me?"
He gave an exasperated sigh. "It didn't seem pertinant." He tried to head for the stairs, but she was in his way. He frowned, tempted to just pick her up and move her, but backed off a pace.
"I'd have to say you were wrong, on that one," she squared her jaw, torn between anger and something else she couldn't identify. If this was real, if he really had started selling secrets, it meant he'd betrayed her to protect her. And if he hadn't, it still meant he thought it plausible enough to believe. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she sighed. "Look, Sebastian... It matters to me why you'd turn on us. Whether we're speaking in general terms like the network, or more personal, like me and Jim. I don't know. Just... don't leave out information like that. 'Cause then I feel like you're hiding shit all the time."
He sighed through his nose as she deflated, and reached up to rub a hand over his close-cropped hair.
"I've turned it over and over, this whole thing, and I couldn't think of a reason that I would betray Jim like that. According to the file, Holmes contacted me when Jim had it out for you, was sending you on worse and worse missions. He offered you protection. And that... that's the one thing I think I might actually have done it for. It makes this whole mess plausible for the first time."
"Christ, and what a mess it is," she sighed, rubbing her eyes. Then she held out a hand to him, cocking her head back to the stairs. "C'mon, lover, let's go back to bed. I'm too tired to deal with this right now."
He stared at her hand for just a moment.
Lover.
Was that who he was now? Not entirely, certainly. But for so long he'd been a soldier, a killer... Now he'd gone against that for the woman standing in front of him, offering her hand.
He took it and headed for the stairs, deciding he was too tired to deal with it, too.
She kept mulling over the situation in her head as they crawled back into bed, examining how this would impact them. Could they even return to Jim, at this point? Christ, she didn't know. She shoved the thoughts from her head and burrowed into his chest, sighing. "Sorry for royally fucking up your life."
"Apology accepted," he said with a small smirk, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He was quiet for a few moments, before he added "I don't regret it, if that's what I did."
"I would have done it for you, it had been the other way around," she murmured, giving a tiny shrug. "God knows I was in over my head by that point, anyway."
He sighed, but nodded just a little. After another few moments he asked quietly, "Do you think I've gone soft?"
"What? Jesus Christ, no," she snorted, drawing back a little so she could look at him in the dark. "This... this thing we have going here, it doesn't make the things you can do to people any less threatening. Hell, when I was little I saw my step-dad put down three people for fucking up a delivery, and in the next three minutes was talking to my mom like nothing ever happened. Just because he cared about her doesn't mean that he didn't just end the lives of three people. You're not one-dimensional, Sebastian. You have room for other things than death."
"Yeah," he sighed, nodding a little and pulling her close again. "I'm just not used to feeling so out of control."
"Yeah, I know," she murmured, letting out a long breath into his shoulder. "I think you'll get it back, though, that feeling of control."
"We'll see," he said quietly, a touch of bitterness entering his tone. "My mind isn't my own anymore. Anyone can come along and insert their own version of things in to bridge the gaps, make connections I never would have wanted made, not before. I'm just taking it in the ass from whoever decides I'm the most useful."
She sighed, considering wrapping an arm around him before going the less-obviously-comforting route and nuzzling into him a little more. "We'll figure this Mycroft shit out, don't worry. How hard can it be to find the truth? Holmes is smart, but he's not infallible. He'll slip up."
He sighed, but nodded just a bit. "We'll see. Infallible, no. But his flaws may be more minute than we can pick up on." He shifted a little, fingers brushing her hair back a bit. "Get some sleep, Harrison."
"Alright," she mumbled, relaxing a little more, eyes falling shut and her mind drifting off. Within ten minutes she was dead to the world.
He was awake for a little longer, but eventually sleep claimed him and he drifted off.
He woke the next morning feeling shitty. For a few moments he didn't remember why, until his conversation with Mycroft returned to him. He sighed softly, holding Harrison a bit closer. Tonight was going to be interesting.
She woke up slowly, slowly returning to consciousness (it was a feat in and of itself to wake up at all when sleeping with somebody who was a furnace), and eventually let out a quiet yawn into the space between them. "I had a dream you got a tattoo of Mycroft and Jim fighting," she mumbled, stretching out with a quiet rustle of sheets. "I dunno if that was even the weirdest part."
"If I were to get a tattoo, I somehow doubt it would be that," he said dryly. "More likely to be a fifties pinup starring my best gal." His face was deadpan, but he tickled her side as he said it.
She laughed, scootching out of his reach so it was harder for him to tickle her. "Call me doll and I'll even pose for the artist," she chuckled, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
"Mmm... don't count on it. Though I'd probably look damn good in a fifties suit," he sighed, stretching out slowly.
"I think it's more definite than 'probably,'" she snorted, groaning and sliding out of bed. "Okay, I'm going to make breakfast. Any requests?"
"Go big on portions," he sighed, sitting up. "I'm starving."
"You got it," she yawned, shuffling out the door, and mentally preparing for the task of cooking up an entire carton of eggs. When he was starving, England's food stores suffered a little.
He debated showering, but decided to wait until she could join him. He brushed his teeth, and headed after her down to the kitchen, walking up behind her and putting his chin on her head. "Hello."
"Hi," she chuckled, in the middle of frying up a pan of scrambled eggs. This was unusually affectionate for him. She knew better than to comment on it. "I hope the people stocking this place know how much food you can put away, or we're going to have to have pizza or something for breakfast."
"I imagine that Mycroft is well aware of our respective dietary habits, frightening as that is," he snorted.
"Good, cause we're out of eggs," she smirked, turning off the stove and ducking out from under him to open the fridge and pull out a carton of strawberries. "Want some fruit?"
"Sure," he said, taking the carton and walking over to rinse it in the sink.
"One good thing about Mycroft is he doesn't make snide quips about us living together," she commented, shoveling them both a plate of scrambled eggs.
"That is a very tiny upside, yes," he agreed with a sigh.
"Got to find them where you can, right?" she shook her head, setting down the plates on the table.
"Yeah," he said, heading over with the strawberries, grabbing a few forks on the way. He sat down, starting to dig into the eggs, and it was a few mouthfuls before he said, "I'm going to go tonight."
She finished a strawberry before she answered, eyebrows coming together just a little. Other than that her face remained the same. "I'm going with you, right?"
He looked up, expression calm. "I don't see any reason you would, so no."
She tapped the pad of her finger silently against the edge of her plate, the only sign of her beginning agitation. "What are you doing, spying? Sniping? Whatever it is, I'm sure Holmes is going to assign you a partner anyway. Might as well be me."
"I'll be observing a meetup that Moriarty's scheduled with an associate. Mycroft's intel suggests he'll be there personally." His intel suggested it, too. He'd scheduled the meetup personally, but he had no intention of informing Holmes of that fact.
She ate in silence for a moment. This would be a good chance to touch base with Jim. This was why she'd been sent along, after all. To report on Moran. Not that she would say anything that would harm him, but still. "Alright. Then you'll have me around to watch your back while you peer through binoculars."
He considered that for a few moments. "I suppose I'd rather it was you than one of Mycroft's goons."
"I know," she said, taking a slow bite into a strawberry. "A pat on the arse from me would be much more welcome."
"Who knows, one or two of them are rather fetching," he smirked, finishing his eggs.
"Yeah, but let's face it, it's not all that likely that they're going to like all the bruising that comes with fucking you," she snickered, popping the last strawberry in her mouth and returning her attention to the eggs. "If it's one of them, you're probably going to have to go longer without getting off. But I don't know, I suppose I don't know the blokes. I guess it's not fair to underestimate them."
"Are you suggesting that we fuck while Moriarty is a few hundred yards away negotiating some deal or another, or that if I don't take you you're going to withhold sex?" he asked, reaching for his own strawberry.
"The first one," she hummed nonchalantly, taking a sip of water from the glass she poured herself earlier. "I don't know if I'm physically capable of withholding sex from you. That'd never work as a threat."
He shrugged. "It's not like I'd force you," he retorted. "But sex on the roof sounds the better of the two options, personally."
"Oh, no, that's not what I meant," she snorted, shaking her head. "I meant more along the lines of my willpower suddenly evaporating the second you get that look in your eye; don't play dumb, you know what look I'm talking about. But yes, I agree on which option is better."
He smirked into his strawberry. "Not the foggiest about what you're referring to," he muttered, tossing the last of his strawberry greens aside and standing to rinse his plate.
"Mmmhm, sure you don't," she rolled her eyes and stood, gathering up her plates and moving around the table to wait her turn by the sink. "God, I just can't think of what will really drive you crazy, either. It's like trying to figure out the secrets of the universe, I swear. Do you even know?"
"I have a few ideas," he said with a smirk. "But I'll let you stumble along. I promise that they're nothing too obscure." He leaned over to nip at the back of her neck as he passed on his way to the stairs. "I'll be showering if you're interested."
"Christ, when am I not interested," she muttered, leaving her plates in the sink and following him. What could those things be? Not lingerie, surely, with his penchant for ripping things apart? Or was that part of it? He said nothing too obscure, but with him, it was like sifting through a bag full of rice looking for a few independently-moving nanobots. He was unpredictable as hell, and hard to pin down.
He headed for the shower, turning it on and reaching out to feel the heat of the water. "You've even seen it in action, I believe, though you were a bit distracted at the time," he smirked.
"What? Oh, c'mon, that could be any number of times," she huffed, stepping out of her pajama bottoms and tossing them at his head lightly.
"Alright, well, if you want to surrender for another hint, I've got one ready," he smirked, catching the trousers and tossing them into the hamper.
She sighed, leaning against the counter in her nightshirt and pants. "Yeah, alright. Never going to get anywhere by myself."
"The legendary grifter admits defeat?" he asked, eyes widening with play shock.
She almost rolled her eyes right out of her head, it was such an exasperated movement. "With you? Christ, of course. I'm too busy being attracted to you to try and root around in your head."
He laughed. "I'm your kryptonite," he smirked, starting to strip. His scars stood out pale against his skin now. Most had over-scarred because of how often he'd torn them back open, and they stood like thin ridges, a labyrinth across his skin. Jim's initials had been circumvented neatly on his chest, given a few inches of space so as not to contaminate the rest of the words.
The scars had stopped bothering her, by this point. It was rare that he ever opened them back up, so once the bad thing about them had been removed, she stopped caring one way or another about them. "Yeah, you are," she shook her head, following his lead and getting rid of her remaining clothes. "Though I think I remember you saying you were going to give me a hint. Are you just going to let me dangle here for a while?"
"Fine, fine," he smirked. "You were not the one enacting what I am referring to, unfortunately," he smirked, flicking her nose gently and getting into the water with a sigh.
"Jesus, that's not a hint," she scoffed, stepping in after him. "So, what, was it Jim? Give me something I can use, Seb."
He laughed. "You said you wanted to figure it out, didn't you?" He reached out to slide a hand around her waist. "Though you're getting warmer I suppose."
She smirked, leaning against him. "Yeah, I do, but there are certain limits that we're both just going to have to accept. My powers of observation weren't really at their highest fucking the two of you, I'm not ashamed to admit it. I surrender on this one."
"You give up so easily," he sighed, leaning down to bite the top of her ear. "Come on, think a bit. What's Jim do that you don't. Other than have a cock. That is not the issue here."
"What, is it the taking charge that you like so much? I figured that you weren't big on the losing control," she hummed, scratching her nails lightly down his chest. "Other than that, I mean, I could probably put on an Irish accent..."
"That took you a while," he smirked, tongue tracing her ear. "Not the accent. And there's a big difference between having absolutely no control and having someone you trust take charge." He nipped again, then stood. "Seeing as there's an incredibly short list of people I trust, this isn't something I frequently indulge."
She chuckled. "And I don't normally take charge, either, because I like feeling just a little bit possessed, but I'll make an exception for you," she grinned, leaning up to nip the corner of his jaw. "Any other big ones I should know about? Or rather, get hints on?"
He grins. "Oh, I think that one may lead you into an avenue of sorts, we'll see." He wrapped his other arm around her waist.
"So willing to leave it up to chance, are you?" she smirked, raising her eyebrows at him a little, fingers tracing down over his hip, tracing a scar there.
"I can't tell you everything," he grinned, reaching up to push her streaming hair out of her face. "What fun would that be?"
"Not very fun at all, I suppose," she rolled her eyes, smiling still, then flattened a hand on his chest and gave him a firm push back up against the shower wall, and winked at him. "But I know what will be more fun."
"Oh, do you?" he asked, his back hitting the wall. He gave her a cocky smile, but there wasn't much hiding the slight increase of his pulse under her palm.
"What, like you even have to ask?" she asked softly, a knowing smirk on her face, and she leaned up, lips ghosting over his, mischievous eyes on him. "I don't think insolence is really advisable right now, do you?" she raised her eyebrows, voice still quiet, a hand raising to slide her fingers through his dripping hair, coming to rest at the base of his skull, where she got a firm grip. She tugged just enough to let him know that she had a hold on him, and then pulled him down to kiss him, deceptively softly, like she wasn't controlling the situation at all.
He kissed her back, in no mood to just lie down and take it, his tongue pushing forward past her lips eagerly, tugging against her grip in his hair just a little.
You want it? Come and get it.
She bit him as he pulled against her grip, pushing him harder into the wall for a second before letting go entirely and breaking away to turn off the shower. "Alright, I'm too short. Get that ass of yours into bed, huh?" she smirked, wriggling her eyebrows as she stepped out, reaching for a towel.
He grinned, following after her and pinching her rear as he grabbed his own towel. "If you say so."
"Damn right, I say so," she laughed, swatting him with her towel and then making a token attempt to dry her hair off as she headed into the bedroom. Yes, horizontal would be much easier for what she wanted to do to him.
He grinned, toweling off as he followed her before tossing the towel and flopping back on the bed then. "Well, then, what's your pleasure?"
"I mean, the obvious answer is you," she pointed out, crawling onto the bed and straddling his waist, looking thoughtfully down at him, giving the J.M. initials on his torso a sort of absent-minded scrutiny. "You know, normally I try not to let this bother me, but I think I'm allowed to get jealous every now and then. I think I'm allowed to say you're mine," she purred, securing a hand in his damp hair again without preamble and pulling his head back enough to expose his throat, and slowly, deliberately, bit into his pulse point, her free hand sliding down his abdomen in between them to skim teasingly over his length to land on his thigh, her nails biting in there to leave a mark.
He took in a sharp breath as her teeth clamped down on his throat, making his windpipe ache slightly. His back arched a little under her, and he bit into his tongue to hold back a moan. "And you can prove that, can you?" he said, his voice just a hair short of steady, his hands gripped in the sheets to remind himself not to fight back. His body was warming quickly, skin hot under her touch.
"You ask a lot of questions. I guess we're both mouthy, aren't we?" she murmured against the skin of his neck, then shifting to start kissing a line down his chest, her hands moving to grab hold of his wrists and pin them down palm up before she interlocked her fingers with his. When she reached about his mid-abdomen she nipped him once again and then slid back up his body to kiss him hard, tongue pushing past his lips, hips rolling down on his.
He shifted and arched under her lips, scarred skin more sensitive than it had once been, taking short, heaving breaths through his nose, trying to keep them even. She pinned his hands and he gave token resistance, though there was little hiding how much he was enjoying himself, the proof was nudging her in the arse. He opened his mouth for her when she returned, sucking and biting at her tongue, a small groan sneaking past as she ground against him.
She ground down on him again as he made that noise, encouraging more, her own breath coming heavier. "Do you know how satisfying it is to see other people look at you and know that you're all mine?" she murmured, kissing him one last time before letting go of his hands to brace them on his chest so she could sit up straight and get a decent rhythm going, teasing the both of them now. "I'm the one who gets to fuck you until we're both sore, I'm the one who gets to sink my teeth into you, I'm the one who gets to ride that cock. I almost wish they could see us now," she grinned, a thumb flicking across his nipple. "They should be so lucky."
He reached up a hand to grip hers, curling her fingers against his skin until her nails bit into him. He opened his eyes to find hers, his own black with desire, but they were also studying her, analyzing, waiting for her next move. His hips bucked up against hers a bit rebelliously and he gave her a cheeky grin. "And when I look at them?" he asked, breaths a bit quick. "What then?"
"Then," she replied, stilling on him, a dangerous look entering her eyes as she looked down at him, gripping his hand harder, on the edge of breaking the skin. "I fuck you covered in their blood, and carve my initials in next to dear old Jim's, so you know who you really belong to."
He groaned as she stopped moving, rutting his hips upwards a few times in an attempt to get some friction, before giving that up as a lost cause. He closed his eyes, chest heaving slightly at her words, and the wonderful pain in his hand. "Fuck..."
The look of him spread out beneath her - scarred skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat, every moment of his chest accentuating the taut muscle that seemed to be on every inch of him, just the smallest flush on his cheeks - was enough to leave her breathless for a second, captivated at the sight of him, and then she was shaking free of it, lifting herself off him for a quick moment to reach down, position herself over him, and then slide down onto him all at once, a low groan escaping her throat. "Fuck?" she murmured, breath lost, "That's the idea, yeah."
He let out a shaky breath as she grabbed his cock, eyes flashing open to find her face, lips parted slightly. She sank onto him slowly and he moaned, his free hand moving to find her hip, shoulders pressing back into the mattress, eyes filling out black. "Lorna... fuck, please..."
"You're going to have to elaborate a little more on that, Seb, darling," she purred, rolling her hips once, slowly, biting her lower lip as she fought to restrain herself. Christ did she want him. But he needed to work for it.
He grit his teeth with a growl of frustration, his trapped hand shifting under hers a little, tugging, making a bid to shift himself into a position of control. Not that he couldn't if he'd really wanted to, but that would spoil the game and he kept himself in check for the time being. She was practically throbbing around him, hot and wet, muscles shifting and clenching around him as she moved, and fuck did he want her to fuck him until he couldn't see straight.
"Fuck me," he managed to grit out, voice wavering slightly as he ground up against her.
That was enough for her. She braced her free hand on his chest and then she was moving, tossing her damp hair back out of her face with a flick of her head, pulling up nearly off him and then rolling back down onto him again, setting up a smooth rhythm, her own breath coming harder, her eyes slipping shut.
He cried out slightly, trying to sit up off of the bed, but her hand kept him down, which sent an unexpected wave of heat rolling down his spine, cock throbbing in response as he rolled his hips with her rhythm. "Fuck... you feel so good," he muttered, his hand on her hip pulling her tighter against him as she moved down.
"You, too," she panted, too wound up and too into it to bother coming up with anything witty to say, completely focused on just keeping the heavenly friction going, on feeling his heat sear her skin and burn her up from the inside out.
He didn't care either, his focus on the exact same thing. He shifted the hand on her hip slightly inward, thumb extending to find her clit, pressing and rubbing gently as she moved, eyes on her face, hips rolling to meet her every movement.
"Fuck," she gasped, her rhythm stuttering, clenching around him as a shiver went through her. She was close enough that she was starting to see stars.
"I- mmh..- I want to feel you come," he growled, his trapped fingers gripping hers. "N-need you to..."
She was too far gone to play her role, falling over the edge at his words and arching on top of him, nails finally breaking the skin on his hand, feeling a bit as if her world was shattering before her very eyes, and it was an amazingly riveting view.
He watched her fall apart, the burst of pain in his hand pushing him to the brink as she arched over him, breasts jutting out beautifully, lips parting around a silent cry of pleasure. She rippled and pulsed around him and he lasted only a few seconds longer, his whole body tensing for just a second before he released, hips pushing up against hers, a swear on his lips.
She wasn't sure how long it took her to recover enough that she could carefully get off him and collapse by his side, curling into him with exhaustion, heaviness in her limbs. "I'd say that was a success," she murmured.
"Yeah, I think so," he agreed blearily, rubbing his eyes a little. "Jesus... " He stretched slowly, then wrapped his arm around her.
"I mean, that's not my name, but you're entitled to say whatever you want to," she mumbled, stretching out herself with a satisfied little noise.
"Oh shut up," he muttered, smirking and pinching her arse a bit.
She made an indignant sound, but didn't bother to roll away. "Make me," she retorted instead, without any bite. "Maybe after a nap, though. Christ, we've barely been awake two hours."
"You nap if you like," he said, sitting up and slipping his arm out from under her, stretching again. "I want to go over the details for tonight again."
She let out a tired sigh, and sat up. "Alright, I guess I'm not napping then." She ran a hand through her hair, then slid out of bed. "Just let me do clean up a little."
"I said you could nap," he retorted, already heading for the shower. "You don't need to go over it, I can brief you later."
"Alright, fine, you win. Okay, I guess I kinda win, but whatever. Just gonna rinse off, then nap," she sighed, following him into the bathroom. Luckily for her, they'd included birth control in her care package. Practical of them.
He turned the shower on, rolling his eyes a little as she grumbled and grinning once she realized she had nothing to complain about it. "Never happy, Harrison. Honestly."
"Oh, no, I'm happy, I just like to complain and irritate you," she smirked, stepping into the shower, squinting at the spray. Good water pressure here, at least.
He rolled his eyes, stepping in behind her and resting his rough-shaved chin on her head. "Time was I would have threatened to stab you for that."
"Honestly, I'm a little surprised I'm not still getting that threat anyway," she chuckled, closing her eyes. Time was that he never would have even thought of the chance that what had just happened in there could be possible. It was almost strange, hearing it from him directly that he trusted her. And, almost as surprisingly, she trusted him. She hadn't, not for a long time. Even after she'd started loving him, she could never really relax around him. Things were so different now.
"I could start threatening again if you miss it," he said, rinsing off and stepping out to dry off. "Sometimes I do. But I think it's more because I haven't had the chance to intimidate anyone properly lately. It's annoying."
She smiled, getting out after him and grabbing the towel she'd left on the counter earlier. "You can threaten me sometimes if you really want. I mean I'm usually fairly certain that you aren't actually going to do anything truly unpleasant, so I don't know if it will feel the same for you, but you're welcome to try. So long as you make me food afterwards, I'm alright."
He smirked, heading out into the bedroom to get dressed. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks ever so much for your permission," he said dryly.
She chuckled, trailing out after him to collapse back into bed still nude, and crawled under the covers. "You're ever so welcome. Do let me know if you need me to sign a waiver or something."
"Oh, Christ, there's probably all sorts of legalese to wade through so that the government can cover its ass," he groaned. "Maybe I'll change my mind about you napping," he teased, walking over to grab the foot of the blanket and tug.
"Noooo, I meant for you threatening me," she moaned, grabbing onto the blanket and rolling herself further into it so he couldn't pull any of it off her. "I'm not signing shit for the government. Who's gonna sue them, my dead family? They'll be fine."
"I certainly won't. I'd just murder them all," he snorted, leaving her be and heading for the door.
"Comforting," she mumbled into a pillow, already half unconscious. He wouldn't even make it back into the living room before she was asleep.