She woke up at around what she assumed to be morning, and when she sat up and looked around, the digital clock on Sebastian's nightstand confirmed it. Late morning, but morning nonetheless. She got out of bed and walked into the living room, heading a little stiffly for the refrigerator. She was sore from being thrown around the previous day. She opened the fridge and was pleased to find it stocked. She grabbed an apple and then just sat on the floor to eat it, not bothered enough to sit at one of the chairs of the small table in the corner of the kitchenette.

He woke not long after she left, climbing out of bed and wandering around the apartment in search of Lorna. He found her on the floor on the kitchen, blocking the door to the refrigerator. He sighed, and stooped down to scoop her up enough to shift her out of the way. Then he opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of orange juice, and sat next to her.

"There are lovely chairs," he said, opening the bottle and drinking straight from it.

"Yeah, but that was work. Also, sitting on the floor's kinda habit for me at this point. I had bottles and shit all over the chairs," she shrugged, tossing the apple core neatly into the sink for her to deal with later.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, rolling his eyes and taking another swig of orange juice before passing her the bottle. "Here. I swear to god, someday you will be a healthy weight for longer than a month at a time."

She took it and took a few chugs before she set it down between them, looking amused. "Hey, I'm a pretty okay weight right now, considering some states you've found me in. I may have been an alcoholic, but I still ate."

"True," he sighed, reaching out to slide an arm around her waist, closing his eyes. "I need to go over security today."

"Vince probably did a pretty good job, but you never know," she agreed, nodding a little and then resting her cheek on his shoulder.

"My main concern is that Ines may have somehow infiltrated here," he sighed, eyes still closed.

She snorted. "Considering she took over the majority of our network, that's an absolutely valid concern. But I feel better knowing that I didn't know about this place. It must have been heavily compartmentalized."

He nodded in agreement. "I didn't know about this either. Which is good." He gripped her a little tighter. He kept re-realizing how great it was to have her here.

"And I think we can all agree, Vince would rather kill himself than turn traitor to me. The man hasn't moved on, and it's been at least seven years," she muttered, sounding preoccupied. She was worried what living here would be like. Having been staying in New York prior had been okay; she'd known it wasn't for too long. But now? She would be living close by to Armetti, in his reach.

"True. But that isn't true of all of his employees. It just takes one person." He stood, then, offering her a hand up. She was lighter than he remembered, but that could just be that he was stronger. He'd spent most of his time under Ines exercising. Either to keep himself motivated, or distracted, or to burn off the anger. He was thinner than he had been, thanks to his own refusal to eat on a few occasions, but what was left was muscle.

"Yeah, you're probably right. The way he makes them maim themselves, who knows," she shook her head, shifting to lean against the counter, her eyes on him. She found that in the short time that they'd been reunited, if they weren't fighting, she wanted to stare at him. Drink him in.

He shook his head. "Bloody stupid, proud move. Don't weaken your own assets, unless you absolutely have to. That sort of thing is just a waste." He reached out absently to tuck some of her hair back, and then grabbed the orange juice off the floor, turning to put it away.

Her chest clenched a little, but otherwise she managed not to react, just snorting a little. "I tried to tell him, last time we were here. He wouldn't have it."

"That's because he's an arrogant prick. But that isn't news to anyone, really." He closed the refrigerator, and sighed. "Alright. I should get to work." He didn't want to. He was tired. He wanted to rest.

She sighed, unhappy he was leaving. "Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Check in with Jim if you feel up to it. I got very clear instructions to leave him the fuck alone, but that's because he's looking into me. I don't think it applies to you."

"I don't care if Jim has something for me to do. If he does, he can tell me. I just wanted an excuse to follow you around," she said, opening up the fridge and pulling out the carton of eggs she'd laid eyes on earlier. She might as well get some protein into herself.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised at that, before walking over to wrap his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head for a moment. "You could just come."

"Yeah, I guess I could. I don't know, I'm still disoriented. I forget what the rules are," she said, leaning back against him for a moment, setting the carton of eggs on the counter.

He laughed, pulling her hair to the side enough to kiss her neck. "You're second in command right now. There are no rules that don't involve your not fucking with Jim."

"Fuck, I am. What was that about you outranking me last night?" she chuckled, resting her head back against his shoulder. Not on it, because she wasn't tall enough for that.

"Well, you fell for it, didn't you?" he asked with a smirk, kissing her ear before pulling back. "You should eat, though."

"Yeah," she sighed, stepping forward and picking up the carton of eggs again. "Help me find a frying pan, will you?"

He checked all of the cabinets at his height, but found them completely empty, and it wasn't until he checked things within her reach that he was able to find pans. He handed her a cast iron frying pan.

She gave an amused shake of her head, taking it and putting it on the stove. "As soon as you're back to being head of security, you should add your scan to my door and move some extra supplies in here from your quarters. No point in us having to go back and forth for no reason."

He nodded a little. "Sounds good to me. I don't have any arguments. Do you have bacon?" He went to start digging through the refrigerator.

"I don't know, do I?" She chuckled, opening the carton of eggs and beginning to crack them on the counter and letting the egg whites and yolks slip out onto the cooking pan.

"Yes," he said, emerging victorious with a paper-wrapped package of thick-sliced bacon and finding another pan to start it in.

Ten minutes later they had a decent breakfast of bacon, eggs, and some rye toast. He set to it without much interest, but it only took a bite or two for him to find his appetite, and he dug in ravenously.

The two of them were a strange picture. Two people, sitting across from each other at a small table in an opulent apartment, one huge man, heavily scarred, and one small woman, almost entirely unmarked. Sharing a meal like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When Lorna was done, she sat back and let out a long breath. "You know, we don't have mobile phones yet. I hope they have a small stock in here."

"If this is all Jim's plan, I'm sure they have a large stock," he chuckled, standing and clearing their plates, walking over to the sink. It was strange to be doing this. Normalcy, after months of... Well, hell.

"Good, I hate feeling cut off," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Especially when I'm literally underground. Of course, the downside will be that Vince will probably have my number. Try not to get into a fight with him, won't you?"

He looked insulted. "Me? Come on, Lorna. I would never fight with an upstanding gentleman like Vincent Armetti. Especially not if he treats you like a human being rather than a particularly choice piece of pie calling him from a bakery shelf."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "One of the reasons I left him is because he's incapable of viewing other people as real. He either places them on impossible pedestals or thinks of them as sub-human. Consequences of that sort don't sink in easily. That's why he's never been able to move on."

He shrugged. "All I ask is that he see you as a human being. If he does that, he and I will have no problems. If he fails to comply with that simple request... It is not my responsibility."

"He's like Jim, Seb, you have to remember that. He's just not... all there, in the empathy category. He won't disrespect me, he's aware of consequences that society taught him, manner-wise. But he'll talk about me in a way you won't like, I'm sure," she shook her head, letting out a tired sigh. "I just don't want him getting vindictive."

"I won't do anything he doesn't start. I promise," he said solemnly, setting a clean pan aside and drying his hands. "That's all I'm promising."

"That's all I can ask," she admitted, shrugging a little, and then pushing the chair out from the table and standing. "I'm going to go get into some decent clothes. If I'm going to follow you around like a lovesick assistant I should at least look somewhat the part."

"You could say you're escorting me to ensure I don't try anything while my clearance is pending," he said with a smirk, following after her.

"Mm, true. Much better look, too. All-black, threatening, probably some sort of fashionable combat boots. Those are probably in my enormous wardrobe, right?" She said, looking with interest towards the bedroom.

"My guess is that the entirety of several high-end department stores are in your wardrobe," he shot back, heading over to his drawer and pulling out a crimson shirt and slacks.

She followed in after him and went for the walk-in closet, which she'd really only glanced at earlier. She opened the door and took a deep breath, steeling herself against the onslaught of choices suddenly before her. "Fucking hell. What was the budget for this? I spent several thousand on my wardrobe and this is far more."

"Hell if I know. Sure didn't come from our budget. Armetti probably funded it personally." He started buttoning up his shirt. "Just pick something out. It'll be fine."

"I know it will, I'm just actually looking forward to something for once," she scoffed, heading for what appeared to be the dress section, and picked out a curve-fitting black dress that could have been appropriate in an office, or at a funeral, and grabbed a pair of red pumps that caught her eye, and picked a bra at random from the astounding selection on a small rack by the door. It was likely Vince had picked them all out personally. If he hadn't had such good taste in lingerie, she would have refused to wear it out of principle. But Sebastian would benefit from it, so she didn't feel too bad. She returned into the bedroom with her picks and put them on the bed while she got out of the clothes she'd slept in.

He raised an eyebrow at the lingerie. "I'm torn between grateful and nauseated," he said with a sigh, considering the lace.

"I recommend smug, for your peace of mind," she said, getting out of her sleeping clothes and changing into what she'd laid out on the bed. "You get to see me in these and it didn't cost you a cent."

"Well, when you put it that way," he smirked, walking up behind her and sliding his hands over her hips, kissing the back of her neck.

She chuckled, leaning back against him for a moment before she stepped forward again and picked up the black dress. "I do kinda want that to be rubbed in his face. Just because he thought he could get away with this kind of extravagance."

"What sort of rubbed? The me thanking him sort of rubbed? Or the us fucking on his desk sort of rubbed?" He smiled.

"Probably the second followed by the first," she hummed, slipping into the both sophisticated and provocative dress and pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Zip me up?"

He smiled, pulling the zipper up slowly and then smoothing his hands across her shoulders. Christ, he had missed her.

She turned back around and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, then turning back around to get the pumps, bending to put them on and not being really surprised when they fit. She was pretty sure they were designer. They made the height difference between them a little more normal. "Are you ready to deal with all this?"

"You mean with evaluating the security of a fortress created by one of my least favorite people in the world, while on trial for treason and being guarded by you? Why the hell not." He smirked.

"Hey, I'm a fucking delight, and don't you forget it," she retorted, giving him a crooked smirk. "There are numerous perks to my presence. Would you rather me not come?"

"Never said that," he smirked, offering her his arm before thinking better of it. That didn't exactly give the right idea about her guarding him.

She took it without any reservations. She didn't give a flying shit what anyone else in the network thought, even if they were strangers and American. Currently she was 2nd in command and hell if she wasn't going to take advantage of the ability to act however she wanted. She'd bashed enough heads for them to know to look the other way, and if they didn't, she would share the lesson. Not to mention that she wanted to reaffirm her bond with Sebastian in front of Vince, who was capable of developing delusions of a false future if she didn't nip it in the bud now.

She didn't seem concerned, and he shrugged, heading for the door. What an interesting pair they always made. An odd sort of intimidating. He was classically scary, but the tiny woman on his arm... she'd come into a power all her own. He smirked.

Once out of the room, she stopped, and pursed her lips. "You know, it's occurred to me I have no idea where we're going."

He just smirked and headed for the elevator. "I asked about the security room while I was being marched to my cell," he said sarcastically. "It's upstairs by the entrance. We'll start there."

"Sure," she agreed, waving her hand in a suggestion for him to lead. This wasn't really her gig. Sure, she had taken over hits for him when he'd been dead, but security had been left to people with a clue about the subject. "Lead away."

He did just that, calling the elevator. A few minutes later they walked into security, her calm and poised, him cold and unreadable. He walked over to the head desk, where a man with red hair sat looking over monitors. Seb put his hands on the edge of the desk, waiting.

The man looked up after what seemed to be ten seconds, swiveling in his chair a little to face him, and adjusted his square-rimmed glasses on his nose. His expression was unreadable. He didn't say anything for a moment, and then raised his eyebrows expectantly. "And you are...?"

"Colonel Sebastian Moran," Moran returned in an equally bored voice, an edge of danger hidden beneath. "Third in command of this organization. And you are?"

The man didn't react much. "Ah," was all he said at first, and his eyes turned to Lorna. He recognized her, obviously. She would have been surprised if he didn't, working under Armetti. He considered her for a moment, calculating, and then looked back at Moran. "I'm Calvin Antony. I head the security for this facility. You're suspended. You can't be in here. Don't make me call in support."

Moran nodded a little at that, standing slowly as if to comply. Then, in a split instant, his hand snapped out and grabbed the man's throat, hauling him up and over his desk until his beet-red face was mere inches from Moran's. He struggled ineffectually, though the crash of office supplies drew spectators.

"If you were worth your salt, Mr. Antony, you would know that Moriarty has authorized me to perform an inspection of the security measures in this facility, under Ms. Harrison's watchful gaze. You would also know that insubordination of any kind would result in severe punishment." Slowly, he set the man down and released his grip, smile unfaltering. "But I am certain that such bumbling idiocies will be rectified almost immediately. Don't you agree?"

The man looked angry, sputtering and indignant for a moment, but it was clear he knew that he'd lost by the way his eyes darted back and forth, looking for a magic solution that wasn't there. Lorna stepped forward around the desk, plucked Carl's sleeves between her fingertips, and guided him up. "Okay, bye," she smirked, and pushed him towards the door, where Carl disappeared in between a couple of IT guys.

"Go about your business, everyone," Moran said, not bothering to look up as he walked around to turn his attention to the computer. There was a beat's hesitation, and then the gathered started to scurry off. He pulled up another chair, leaving the main one for Lorna, and sat down, starting to look over the system specs.

She sat down, scooting closer into the desk and scanning over it. She didn't really know what she was looking for, if she was looking for anything at all. After a moment she sat back again. "I don't have any idea what I'm doing."

He laughed, shaking his head a little. "Alright. Look here, this is the administrative overview. Which is already a problem. A computer with this level of access should be in an office on its own with a locked door. But this section is the building itself. Cameras and surveillance, doors and locks, systems controls- which is boring stuff like heat and lighting. Then there's this section- personnel and prisoners. Background checks and interrogation logs, etcetera." He started clicking through things. "There you go. Your room. Camera blackout zone except for on the windows and external leading doors. Annnd my room," he said with a smirk, opening the tab and rolling his eyes at the inch-by-inch camera coverage. "It's like they don't trust me," he snickered.

"It's like they don't like you," she amended, with a little less levity than him. This place had no doubt been built before Sebastian had reappeared. To have cameras built into the whole room like this? If they'd rushed this, her untrained eye couldn't tell. "Looks like Vince was determined to give you the shittiest accommodations he could get away with. Do the cameras in either of our rooms pick up audio? Because if they do, there will be some choice things I'll need to be talking to him about, and only a few involve a security breach."

"Both do. Yours do not record, they're smart listening devices keyed to certain sounds- breaking glass, gunshots, power tools, a few other things. Mine are on a 24-hour audio reconnaissance." He glanced through a few other files. "Looks like that's standard for all the rooms in this block. They're varying levels of luxury-" he brought up the video of a fairly spacious room with nice furniture that had a similar camera set up to his own. "This is somewhere for people the network might want to keep an eye on. Me, for example."

"Except you know way too much for an average security guard to have access to that audio," she shook her head, eyes drifting over the rooms as she thought. "Is that not a problem?"

He shrugged. "If I was actually staying there? Certainly. And I'm pissed that Armetti didn't consider it. But as is? I'm staying at your place."

"I'm itching to tell him how displeased I am, let me tell you," she sighed, leaning back heavily in her chair. "But I suppose if you're staying with me I haven't got an excuse. We'll just have to avoid making the noises on the list. Anything we could hit accidentally? Besides - wait. How the fuck do we have windows? Aren't we underground?"

He nodded. "Yes. You didn't notice them before? They look out onto a central training area. At least in your room. Mine doesn't have any. It's supposed to give ambiance or some shit." He shrugged. "In my opinion it's a fucking security breach, but I can only fight so many battles."

"I was very tired. Still am. Didn't notice," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Either way, if you want to we can have them boarded up. I don't need to observe training. And they don't need to observe me."

He nodded, and leaned back. "I'd appreciate that. Speaking of tired, I've been meaning to ask. How's the being dry going?"

"It's been going great until you just asked," she chuckled, then groaned a little. "I've mostly just been too tired to think about it. Maybe it's partially why I feel like crap."

"Ah... Sorry," he said with an unusual spark of genuine ruefulness. "I won't mention it. Let me know if I can help."

"You got it," she agreed with a sigh, then sat up a little, returning her eyes to the screen. "Where's Jim's quarters? How are they being secured?"

He brought the screen up, examining the room. "Same video setup as your room on common access. You, Jim, and the chief of security alone have access to further video files, my guess- total coverage files in the event of some sort of emergency. The physical security is all up to par. Doubled walls with titanium reinforcement panels, doors of a similar caliber, no windows- evidently they weren't that stupid..."

"Well, I have to assume that Jim was very specific with a least a few of the rooms, and that would definitely be one of them. Windows underground. Unbelievable," she muttered. "I'll try to get ahold of someone in the place to fix mine. Weird working in a place where I don't know anyone anymore."

He nodded in agreement. "I'll find someone," he muttered, pulling up the personnel files and skimming through 'maintenance' until he found a suitable carpenter. "Alright. Here. Seem alright?" he asked, leaning back and letting her skim the file.

She read over her briefly, but didn't see any red flags. Then she handed it over again. "Yeah, sure. Don't know him, so no grudges. Is that just like, an app on our phones? When did you have time to look for this stuff?"

He shook his head. "Just casting it to my phone. Another test- failed, by the way. No way I should be able to do that." He rolled his eyes. "The database is all on the computer, just checking it here. As for when I had time to look for it, look..." He pulled up the employee database again and selected a few categories. Grifter, male, speaks: Korean. A young man named Leo came up, and he turned the screen towards her. "Just need to know what you're looking for and the database does the rest."

She raised her eyebrows. "Damn. And.. what's our feeling on a very knowledgeable database like this one?"

He shrugged. "As long as I bury below a few more layers of security... It's fucking useful. I've been working to create something like it at the network... It's easier for such a small branch like this, with only a couple hundred people. But still, as long as it's properly protected... Nothing wrong with it."

She nodded. "Okay, got it. I think I should probably get around to learning this security shit," she said, shrugging one shoulder and rubbing the back of her head, a little sheepish. "In case you actually bite it."

"Well, let's not actually plan on that, but yes, it's not a bad idea," he agreed, starting to write down a few notes on a pad of paper he'd fished off the pile of office supplies on the floor. "To be fair, I don't know anything about running the grifting department, really, so..." He shrugged.

"Yeah, well, the thing doesn't need the grifting department to function," she pointed out, eyes on his writing but not really looking at it. "But I... considered what you said. That if it's a choice between you and Jim you can't be thinking about me. I can't ask that of you." She wasn't sure whether or not she was telling the truth to him, but she'd resolved to at least try not to insult him so badly.

He paused in his list of necessary changes, and turned to look at her, contemplating her, before shaking his head. "We'll discuss this back at the flat," he said, trying to avoid shutting her down. This just wasn't the place for this discussion.

She nodded. She hadn't really meant to bring it up here in the first place. She glanced at the door, just to make sure no one was there hovering. "Well, I'll just sit back and let you do your job for the moment, shall I?" She asked, leaning back in the chair until it began to lean as well.

He glanced at her for a moment, then nodded just slightly. "Won't be too long. I have enough to work with for now," he said as he turned back to his list, starting to write again. His tight, blocky script soon filled the page and carried onto the back. He finally set the pen aside and stood, tucking the note into his breast pocket and shutting the computer down. "That's all I need for now. I'll email this to Jim later. Let's go."

"Alright," she agreed, standing as well and tucking her hands into her pockets. "Shall we retreat to our hidey hole?"

He nodded, offering her his arm as they headed for the door, then the elevator.

The diamond days are gone
And I would be a fool to carry on

- Cruel Youth - Diamond Days -