Five minutes and a few darkness-born scrapes later she climbed back onto the roof, flopping down on her back at Moran's side, a huff of air escaping her. "I couldn't hear a bloody thing. You can't see them from here, but they've got fucking dogs. I'd guess it was the other party bringing them. No wonder security seems so light."

Moran swore under his breath and straightened up with a sigh. "This looks like it's wrapping up anyway. We aren't going to get much else."

The Corpse looked affronted. "There's considerable information that could still be gathered-"

"Like what? This is a shitty vantage point, with limited visibility and a dollar store pair of binoculars."

"Those are-"

"Government issue. Same thing. My point is, we have nothing."

"If Mycroft really wanted this information, he should have worked a little harder," she snorted, dragging the sound equipment to her and starting to disassemble it.

The man looked exasperated, but started to help pack up.

"Well, this was a waste of time. Tell me, Corpse, is it always like this in your department?"

"Things always go smoothly without a couple of criminals around," he replied acidly, a flash of belligerent eyes sent their way. Lorna paused, resting back on her haunches, eyes hard on him.

"Do you want to repeat that?"

Moran chuckled. "Down, Harrison. I'd much rather be a criminal than a dick-guzzling wannabe bureaucrat. Not that I'm calling you that, Corpse. I'm not sure you've graduated from licking assholes yet."

"Fuck you, Moran," he hissed, the stone facade crumbling even further, a hand hovering near the gun on his waist.

"That's my job. And you're not nearly crazy enough to be interesting," Lorna snorted, finishing packing up the sound device and standing, the case in her hand.

"Corpse, if you make another move towards that gun your nickname is going to be a lot more fitting," Moran drawled calmly, grinning a bit in the man's direction. "And I don't know, Harrison. I'd like to see the robot break down a bit. Could be fun."

"Please. If you think I'm going to let him put his clammy hands all over you, you're mistaken," she chuckled, patting his shoulder and heading towards the fire escape, leaving the sullen man and Sebastian behind. "C'mon, we can see how uncomfortable we can make Corpse in the car!"

"In his mind or in his trousers?" he asked with a smirk, hopping up to follow, leaving the robot to sulk behind them.

"Why not both?" she laughed, trotting down the metal stairs. Finally, their companion appeared, following them down. "I'm kinda leaning for the second one, though. What's it been, a few hours? Unacceptable."

"Sounds like fun to me," he grinned, slipping an arm around her waist and pinching her arse lightly.

She jumped a little, but laughed, setting the case on the roof of the car as they reached it and waited for their irritated shadow to catch up. "Of course it does. I'm one of the most fun people you know," she grinned, tugging off her black gloves. Mycroft's man finally made it down the ladder, unlocking the door without looking at them and climbing inside, the engine turning over a few seconds later. "Let's make this poor bastard squirm, huh?"

"Oh, absolutely," he smirked, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

She stuffed her gloves into her back pocket and then slid in without ado. Corpse was fiddling the radio, very deliberately her gaze in the rear-view mirror. She smirked.

He wrapped an arm around her as he slid in, kissing her ear slowly and reaching his free hand to start undoing her trousers.

The radio's volume went up almost instantly as the car reversed, Mycroft's man's eyes locking with hers for a split second before jerking back to the road, and then she couldn't bother to pay attention to him anymore, instead sliding a hand down Sebastian's thigh.

Moran laughed and pushed Lorna's trousers down, turning her head to kiss her solidly, teeth scraping her lips.

She kissed him back, a quiet moan filtering through her lips, half on purpose, to make their companion increasingly uncomfortable.

He chuckled against her lips, feeling her smile against his own as he pushed her knickers aside and slid his fingers over her heat slowly.

She groaned, fingers curling into his thigh. He never went this fast, with so little teasing. It was a bit of a rush.

"If the two of you could stop rutting like rabbits, that'd be great," Corpse snapped from the driver's seat, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

"Haven't even gotten started, mate," Sebastian laughed, meeting the driver's rear-shot gaze with a challenge and a smirk as he pressed two fingers into Lorna slowly but firmly.

The man's angry blush at her resulting gasp could be seen from the backseat, if she'd had the urge to see it, but she'd lost almost all interest in him, too busy catching the line of Seb's jaw with her lips. One-handedly she started to work on the button to his trousers, the other slipping into his greased hair.

He tilted her head to allow her lips more space, fingers starting to curl and shift slowly inside of her. He groaned as she went for his trousers, more vocal than usual for the benefit of their audience.

She smirked against his jaw, pressing a jokingly chaste kiss to the corner before scraping her teeth across his throat, managing to get his trousers open without too much struggling and then tugging down the waistband. Arctic Monkeys was playing over the radio now, loud in her ears, but that just made this all the more fun. They had a bloody soundtrack.

"We don't have a terrible lot of time, I don't expect," he commented, removing his fingers from her slowly in favor of pushing his trousers further off. "Our driver seems to be pushing the confines of the speed limit rather desperately."

"Mm, you're probably right," she hummed, nipping once at his ear and sliding a hand into his pants to pull out his hardening length without further ado. "Better make the most of the time we've got, I suppose," she grinned, shifting away from him a little and then bending, sealing her lips around him before he knew what hit him.

"Jesus Christ..." he groaned, his hands pawing at the leather seat for a moment before shifting up to bury in her hair, head flopping back against the seat. "Fuck, Lorna... little w-mmmh- warning..."

She didn't come up to laugh, just hummed in amusement, tongue swirling around him, nails biting into his thigh. She didn't do this often, but when she did, it was a complete effort to suck his brains out.

He arched away from the seat slightly as she hummed, swearing and gritting his teeth. "I'm n-not... not gonna last- fuck -" he panted, losing concentration a second later as he rolled his hips upward slightly, groaning.

He had said they were short on time. She took as much of him as she dared, her free hand wrapping around what remained, orchestrating the movements of her tongue and head and hand to set his nerve endings on fire.

The different sensations across his cock were completely engulfing. His fingers tightened in her hair, one hand sliding down the back of her neck to grip her shoulder. His toes were curling in his shoes and he'd completely forgotten about the man in the front seat, his entire focus on the tingling flames running up his back.

Even busy as she was, she could feel the car slowing down - they were reaching the home stretch, and he was going to be in a black mood if he was kicked out of the car still hard. So she slid a hand up underneath his shirt and scraped her nails down his abdomen, and then moaned around him, sucking him like a lollipop.

The command- though wordless- was very clear and he made no effort to fight it, crying out as he came, legs shaking slightly as he pressed his head back against the seat. His vision was spotted with bright colors, and he took slow breaths, pulling himself together quickly, suddenly aware that he hadn't been paying attention at all and for all he knew they could have been being driven right into a trap. He opened his eyes, relieved to see them on the familiar apartment street. He returned his attention to Lorna, smiling and loosening his grip from her hair. "Holy fuck, Lorna."

She took a second to get her breath back - swallowing was always a little challenging - and gave a breathless chuckle, brushing her hair back as she straightened up. "You're welcome," she grinned, leaning forward to kiss him briefly while she yanked back up her trousers.

"Out," came a strained voice from the front seat.

"I suppose you're going to have to wait until we're inside," he said with an amused smirk, glancing the front seat. "Sorry, Corpse. Somewhere to be?" He adjusted his own trousers and opened the door, stepping out and offering Lorna a hand.

She took his hand, got out, and shut the door behind her, laughing. "I didn't get you on the roof, but I figure I get half credit for the ride back," she grinned.

"Oh, at least half credit," he smirked, shaking his head a little and laughing, heading for the door to the townhouse. "I don't think Monsieur Mort will ever be the same."

"Ten quid he pulls into a parking lot and gets himself off before he returns the car," she snorted, opening the door and heading inside in front of him.

"Agreed," he laughed, shutting the door behind him and reaching out to grab her arm before she got too far, pulling her back with very little effort and spinning to pin her solidly to the front door, free hand finding her throat to hold her there as he stood tall over her, a small grin still turning the corner of his mouth. "You were going somewhere?"

"Guess not," she gasped, pupils dilating visibly. She'd been prepared to just waive it altogether, but fuck if she was going to say no to this.

"You know, I pride myself as being a fair man in bed," he smirked, the hand on her arm shifting to unzip her trousers again. "Or were you under the impression I was going to leave you hanging like your pathetic marks?"

"I think sometimes I do forget," she smirked, biting her lip. "It's just force of habit. And it lets me be pleasantly-surprised pretty often."

"Well, that's just downright insulting," he muttered, snorting derisively. He traced her jawline with his thumb, before slowly bending to bite the spot, his other hand slipping into her trousers and knickers and rubbing against her clit slowly.

"Shit, Seb," she groaned, pressing her head back against the door, eyes fluttering shut. "Okay, how about 'all the time', is that better?"

"The forgetting, or the pleasant surprise?" he growls leaving her throat and kneeling, upper hand sliding down to press against her chest and keep her in place as he pushed her trousers down and let her step out of them before tossing them aside.

"Pleasant surprise. Definitely the pleasant surprise. It's always something new with you, believe me," she shook her head, leaning into his hand a little, just so she didn't feel like a completely pliant puddle of a person.

He shoved her firmly back against the door as she tried to move, glaring up at her. "Did I say you could go anywhere?" he asked coldly, eyes locking on hers.

"No," she smirked, looking down at him, challenging. She felt in the mood to test his patience. "What's your point?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I see," he said, standing up again slowly, his hand spreading wide across her chest. Possessive. "It seems we need to discuss the rules."

The smirk didn't fade from her face, but she did look just a little bit more affected, eyes dark on his. "I won't argue with that, I suppose."

"I am in charge. You are not. Opposing me will not end well for you, cooperation will be rewarded. Are we clear?" he asked, free hand covering her breast slowly.

She shivered, and nodded, her expression a degree more aroused than joking. "Yes, sir."

He smiled, hand kneading her breast a little in response. "Good," he said quietly. "Now... stay," he said quietly, the hand at the center of her chest pressing down again to emphasize his point before he knelt again, reaching out to grip her left leg and shift it over his shoulder.

She did as told this time, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, looking down at him with dark eyes and the slightest bit of a tremor in her heartbeat. It occurred to her suddenly that if Jim got Mycroft to tell the truth tomorrow, this might be her last time with him. Christ.

He didn't waste any time, just ran his tongue over her, one hand on her hip, holding her against him, the other cupping her arse.

She immediately gave up on looking down at him, at holding on to any thoughts; just slid a securing grip in his hair and melted into it, a small whimper escaping her.

He worked his tongue and fingers through her folds and into her with unusual gentleness. She hadn't had much chance to tell him what Jim had said, but he had little doubt that she'd gotten to him, and that meant he probably had one verdict or another on his head at the moment. He'd slipped earlier, let her get control of him, which in retrospect was far too lax. She could have killed him. She hadn't, which was probably a good sign. But that didn't mean he needed it to happen again. So he would string her out, wear her out, leave her tired and satisfied and ready to sleep. Then he could plan.

She relaxed into it, let him start to build her up as slow as he wanted, more than happy to keep away more important thoughts, to exist in this blissful state for as long as he deigned to keep her there. Sex was always where things had been their easiest with them, and it always would be.

He took his time, though finally he couldn't really hold her back any longer and started increasing the pace of his movements, sliding his fingers further into her and hooking them, wrapping his lips around her clit and tonguing it rhythmically.

"Fuck, fuck," she gasped, arching off of the door, fingers tightening in his hair. She more strolled over the edge than hurdled it, the fire burning through her with an unusual calmness. Still, when it was over, he was the only thing keeping her standing. "I'd- I'd say that's more than fair repayment."

He helped her to sit with a chuckle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing her her knickers and trousers. "Glad to help."

She pulled on her pants with a little wriggling and decided that wearing trousers was for squares, leaving them on the floor beside her. She leaned back against the door, eyes closed, cheeks pink. And debated about what to tell him about tomorrow. She sighed. "Jim's... Jim's got a plan to find out whether or not you've been spying for Mycroft. I can't tell you what it is right now. I'll risk it, tomorrow, but if he ever found out I gave you real warning.." she shook her head, eyes still shut. Then she laughed, without any real amusement. "He almost killed me, you know. Tonight. He made a real move for his gun because I didn't have any information for him. Even if I had, would I have told him? I don't know."

He squared his jaw slightly but took a slow breath through his nose. "Alright... well... Then I guess this will work out how it works out. It isn't like I can do anything to affect things anymore."

"You're mostly right on that," she agreed quietly, eyes opening finally to rest on his face. "Except that you need to decide if you want to make a break for it, tonight."

He considered that.

"Would you go with me?" he asked after a long silence.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't willing," she replied, almost silently. Even suggesting this started an anxious welling in her chest, a fear of the unknown, of the dangers of being hunted. But if it meant that she wouldn't have to watch him die?

He was quiet for a long time, then, leaning against the door and staring at the room around him. The definite possibility of a stressed, likely short life on the run from Moriarty, or the chance of everything going back to normal, in safety. And even if he didn't run and he died, there was the chance that Jim would let Lorna live. Really, the choice was clear.

"No. I'll stay."

"Alright," she murmured, picking up her trousers and standing, hand reaching out to grasp his for a second before her hand fell back to her side again, careful not to push the unspoken boundaries. "I'm going to go to bed. Looking like a long day tomorrow."

He nodded a little. "Sleep well," he said quietly, heading for the kitchen. He needed a drink.

She turned away and slipped off into the bedroom, crawling into bed in silence and curling up under the biggest wad of blankets she could muster. She couldn't tell him how afraid she was of losing him. So she'd have to be strong enough to comfort herself.

He stayed up for a few more hours. He thought about getting completely blitzed, but knew that in the long run that wouldn't help him any and stopped himself after two glasses of scotch. He headed up the stairs, and leaned against the door. Lorna was huddled into a ball in the middle of the bed, covered by all of the blankets, and he sighed quietly through his nose.

Last night on earth.

He walked over and carefully dug her out, kicking his shoes off and laying down next to her, pulling her into his arms.

Not bad.

She didn't wake up, but she curled into him, a long, contented sigh leaving her as she settled again. She'd known him long enough now that even her unconscious self gravitated towards him. It was yet to be seen whether or not that'd be her downfall.

He lay there for a long time, just considering her and the stars out the window before he told himself to stop being an emotional moron, and fell asleep.

She woke up in the morning to the sun slanting in through the windows, directly into her eyes. She groaned and rolled over, burrowing into the pillows. She didn't want to face this day yet.

Her groan woke him up, and he squinted at the light. "Fucking sunshine," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah," she mumbled, sighing. She had to lure Mycroft out today.

He sat up, walking over to close the curtains, but pausing to look out over the eerily quiet street. "So. What's the plan?"

"I have to lure Mycroft to a spot Jim can grab him," she sighed, sitting up and dragging a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. "You'll go with him. Boss wants to hold you while he questions Holmes."

He nodded a little at that, stretching out, still looking out over the street. "I suppose we'll have this all figured out soon, then," he said quietly. "How do we get Mycroft out?"

"I'll tell him that I know what happened to Ford. I'm sure that will catch his attention," she shrugged, resting her hands on her knees.

He glanced over at her, then nodded. "Yeah. That ought to." He took a slow breath. "I'm an idiot for not running last night. But I still wouldn't."

"Yeah, there are things I regret that I wouldn't change, either," she sighed, shaking her head.

"Yeah?" he asked, walking over to the closet to find a clean shirt.

"Yeah. Stupid mistakes I've made, you know. But I don't know how much things would have changed, had I made a different choice. I could be somewhere worse," she pointed out, sliding out of bed and heading for the dresser. She needed to find something durable, but something that didn't scream I'm leading you into a trap.

He nodded, finding a shirt he liked and heading for the bathroom to shower and shave. "Yeah. No sense in think about it. Nothing we can change now."

She nodded, pawing through her own Mycroft-provided clothes and eventually producing a set she liked, her mind on locations. Where to bring him? He surely knew a good portion of the drop sites the network used, and bringing him to one of those would just make him suspicious. This depended on getting him with a limited guard, or, ideally, with no guard at all. The network wasn't an army; they couldn't take on the Secret Service in any number. So she had to be smart about this. Maybe she could give him an address of a warehouse by the river, pretend to have evidence there for him?

He showered quickly and shaved, staring at himself in the mirror for a few moments. He traced a finger over a line of his words as they ran across his shoulder, tilted it until his nail scratched skin. Pressed down, felt the slight bite of it...

He stopped quickly and shook himself a bit, stepping back and dropping his hand, turning to get dressed.

Once she was dressed and decided on what to do, she pulled out the cellphone she'd been given and sent two texts. One went to Jim, consisting of nothing but an address. The bracelet would be a nice touch if something went wrong, but she didn't need it. The other went to Mycroft, led by the same address, and following;

I have information on your brother. Sherrinford, not Sherlock. I won't tell you anywhere there are ears listening, just in case. I don't know which of your people could be moles. LH

The response was almost immediate.

What time?

Moran came out of the bathroom, doing up the last few buttons of his shirt.

30 Minutes. LH

It was enough time to get there, but it wasn't enough for Mycroft to have the place scoped out, searched, the whole shebang. "Alright. It's in motion. I just hope he'll go without kicking a fit."

"You've dangled a piece of information in front of him that has probably been bothering him since Ford died. I have little doubt that he will be there," he snorted, tucking his shirt. "Let's get moving."

She nodded, slipping a knife and her phone into her pockets and then heading out, moving for the door. She was nervous. There were so many ways today could go wrong.

He followed her, letting her take point, eyes on their surroundings as they exited the apartment. "Taxi? Or is he sending a car?" he asked as he scanned the street.

"He didn't say," she sighed. "Better to take a taxi. Don't want to be in a car with one of his people," she shook her head, heading down the deserted sidewalk. What was keeping people off this street, a forcefield?

He walked close behind her, eyes on their surroundings, on alert for danger as they approached where the street intersected the next, and civilization.

She flagged down the nearest taxi, a cab idling by the curb, and got in, saying nothing except the address of the warehouse.

He sat beside her after he'd inspected the driver for a moment, and they took off. He recognized the address as being in the warehouse district but little more, and took a slow breath, realizing just how much trust he was putting in Harrison's word right now. For all he knew, he could be walking into a trap set by Jim, to have him put down.

"When our people come in they're probably going to treat you like a kidnap victim. Hood over the eyes type deal. Same with Mycroft. He's probably going to have a worse day, though," she said quietly, so the driver couldn't hear them. Just in case. It wasn't a very long drive, though, and they were close already.

"Brilliant," he said quietly, eyes on the road outside, though he kept her in the corner of his vision, tense, almost waiting for a betrayal.

She took a deep breath as they pulled to a stop outside the grey, dingy-looking warehouse, and after paying the cabbie, got out. "Let's do this, huh?"

He nodded, quiet as they walked before he finally asked, "What happens to you in all of this?"

"I follow you out, I suppose," she shrugged. "I don't know. I'll wing it. I'm in the least danger, here, anyways."

He glanced over at her and then nodded. "Don't get killed, yeah? That would be a pain in the arse."

She paused for a moment, the desire to try and express how much she didn't want him to be a traitor overwhelming. "Sebastian, I..." She trailed off for a moment, unsure how to continue. She rubbed her eyes, letting out a quiet breath. "If Mycroft's not lying about this, and Jim wants to kill you slow... If I can't get you out, I'll end it, if you ask. You don't remember it, if you did it. No reason for you to suffer."

He glanced over at her, and shook his head. "Thank you. But no. I won't take the easy out. It would give him too much satisfaction." Actually, in reality, he'd be furious. But that would almost certainly fall on Lorna's head, and hell if he was having that, dead or not.

That was a lie, and they both knew it. She'd offered because she knew Jim was ruthlessly cruel, that he'd drag out Sebastian's life until there was nothing left of him but a bag of quivering bones, and that he'd enjoy every single torturous second of it. But she said nothing, just nodded and turned to the door, opening it with a creak of rusty hinges and stepping inside.

He entered the warehouse quietly, looking around the dark, open space, pausing to let his eyes adjust. A man that after a second's scrutiny proved to be Mycroft was standing in the dim light towards the center of the room. Behind him were four men, all armed, though their weapons were lowered.

Four? That's a bit much, isn't it? She thought to herself as they walked across the concrete floor, still in silence. She could feel Mycroft's eyes boring into her as she got closer. She didn't blame him. He was right to be suspicious. "Sorry about the secrecy, Holmes. Telling you about Moriarty's business is still risky for me," she shrugged, slipping her hands into her pocket. The cavalry would arrive any moment - no doubt they'd been waiting for her and Moran to arrive. "But I thought you deserved to know."

"In future, I have several offices that I take pride in keeping bug-free," he said dryly. "Well, do get on with it."

Lorna sighed, glancing up at Sebastian briefly. "Fine. I had a job, that involved Ford. I used to know him, when we were younger. Moriarty wanted information, about you, about Sherlock, about Ford's job. So he had me take it."

"Define take-" Mycroft started out tersely, but then there was a rattle and then a blinding flash and a bang that left his ears ringing, and before he could regain his bearings there were arms dragging him back. He fought them off for a few moments until he smelled the distinctive cologne of one of his men. After that he put up only a superficial struggle as he was dragged out of the building.

Lorna stayed relatively still as the chaos broke out, afraid of getting in anyone's way. There was a few moments where everything was going fine, and then there was a splitting pain in her head, and everything went dark.

Some days I'm built of metal, I can't be broken
But not when I'm with you
You love me real, we have it all
Can't leave me now
I love the way, you are today
Run away with me now
Wind in my hair, cause I don't care
Baby run away with me now

- Chaos Chaos - Do You Feel It? -

Playlist: Saint Motel - Cold Cold Man