She woke up sometime in the middle of the night, disoriented and confused, and got up out of bed, wondering how long she had been asleep. Long enough, considering that it was now pitch black outside. She figured she'd held up her end of the deal for the time being. Time to find Sebastian.

He was awake, reading in their room. He was flopped across the chaise lounge on his stomach, the book open on the floor. He looked up as the door opened, and shifted to sit up, adjusting his tee and plaid pajama bottoms. "Hey there. Welcome back."

"Hey," she smiled, walking over to the dresser to get out some pajamas. "Didn't mean to be gone so long. Passed the fuck out."

"I figured as much," he said, standing and walking up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against him.

She leaned back into him a little, pleased to be able to spend time with him again, pajamas forgotten for a moment. "It was weird, not having you there."

"How did he do?" he asked softly, fingers tracing absent patterns across her stomach.

"Poorly," she snorted, "He mostly said vaguely insulting things. And he didn't pick me up well. Which is one of my favorite parts."

He smirked, shifting and scooping her up into his arms. "I'll take that as a suggestion. And you didn't expect him to be very good at it, did you?"

She made an 'eep' noise as he picked her up, wriggling a little. "Of course I didn't. But it makes me miss you. Put me down, let me get some clothes on, huh?"

"That seems like it would go against my best interests," he grumbled, setting her down.

"Hey, I'm smaller than you, I lose body heat faster," she retorted, opening up a drawer and pulling out a soft set of pajamas. "Plus, it's comfy."

He sighed, reaching out to slide a possessive hand over her bare arse. "Fine, if you insist..."

"You almost literally just had your way with me," she laughed, turning around to face him as she pulled on her top. "You're incorrigible!"

"I'm not trying to fuck you, I just like your arse! Is that such a bad thing?" he asked indignantly, though he was hiding a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, still chuckling. "You were feeling me up! It's not like my ass disappears when I put on clothes."

"Really? You're kidding. Thank god you clarified that, here I was thinking that your ass defied object permanence," he said sarcastically, smiling now as he walked over to flop onto the bed.

She rolled her eyes harder, pulling on her pants and then walking over to get into bed with him, settling against his side. "You are so sarcastic, Jesus Christ. How have you not been killed?"

He smiled as he reached out for the remote, turning off the lights. "When you're as sarcastic as I am, you have to have the survival skills to back it up."

"Yeah, yeah," she snorted, resting her cheek on his shoulder, eyes still open in the dark. "Which came first?"

"I'd say they were fairly concurrent," he said as he curled back around her. "But probably the survival skills."

She hummed in response, letting silence fall for a minute. She couldn't imagine him as a sarcastic kid, and there was a very obvious reason for that. She almost wished Riordan was still alive so she could rub their happiness in his face.

He didn't let his mind wander for too long, returning to the present before he shot his mood in the foot. "I should hang you from the ceiling more often."

She snorted in amusement. "We aren't usually in a room where the ceiling allows that to happen. Are you going to install ceiling mounts to hang me from in our flat?"

"Would you object if I did?" he asked, grinning and pressing his lips to the back of her neck.

"No," she smirked, rolling her eyes a little in the dark. "I might make fun of you, though. Can't promise otherwise."

"You can make fun of me all you like. I'll tie you up and leave you there for housekeeping to find," he muttered against her skin.

"Bullshit. No way you would do that. Too risky. Someone might stab me while you were gone, and then where would you be?" she scoffed.

"Short one pain in the arse," he said with a grin, pinching her butt playfully.

She made a noise of protest, reaching back to poke him. "Exactly! Short! Implying you're meant to have me around!"

"That is the worst argument I've ever heard," he said flatly, rolling onto his back and pulling her up onto his chest. "I mean, just pitiful."

She rolled her eyes at him, settling down against his chest. "You want me to go into detail about how well we do without each other, or just stick with the light dancing around it?"

"See, that's a much better argument," he says, smoothing a hand up her back and wrapping his arms around her snugly.

She just gave an exasperated chuckle, listening to the slow beat of his heart. It was a sound that had comforted her for years now. "Jesus," she sighed after a minute, voice soft. "We have been together a long time. It's strange to think of."

"Yeah. Not even Jim would have called it, the odds were so low," he agreed. She was warm against his chest, her breath tickling his neck.

"Jim never did call it," she chuckled. "He was in denial as much as you were."

"Denial is such a strong word," he sighed. "Disbelief seems more accurate. It isn't our fault that you came in and threw our perfectly balanced relationship off-kilter."

She made a pfft noise. "Please. I didn't come in, I was in the organization for at least six months before we met face to face."

"And then you start working with Jim and I, and poof, everything explodes," he retorted, smirking.

"And who would you be fucking with such regularity and enthusiasm?" she smirked, raising her eyebrows at him, though she doubted he could see them.

"No one," he agreed. "Though on the flip-side, I could murder a lot more." He grinned.

"What do you mean you could murder a lot more? It's not like I discourage you," she scoffed, disbelieving.

"Yes, but if I was getting my rocks off with penny-candy hookers," he explained patiently, "Then I would have a nearly endless line of victims. I'd be the next Jack the Ripper."

"Ugh, not even expensive hookers? No wonder you would need to murder more often, you wouldn't be completely satisfied," she snorted, features scrunching up disdainfully. She didn't enjoy the idea of Sebastian and a line of dive bar bimbos. But then, she was an oddly jealous person.

"People look when expensive hookers disappear," he pointed out, sliding a hand through her hair. "No one cares about crackwhores."

"Like you would get caught by the fucking police," she muttered. "But damn, you lucked out with me. Sounds like you were doomed to a life of sub-par sex."

"I'd have splurged every once in awhile," he retorted, but he smiled a little. "Still, not great sex, no."

"Ha, splurged," she snickered, well aware it was immature.

He rolled his eyes, snorting. "Oh, yes, that's excellent."

"I'm still getting over the whole balls joke you made a while back. Recovering, actually," she teased.

"I'm sorry testicular humor is so traumatic for you," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes in the darkness.

"It's the worst kind of humor," she said seriously, though she was smiling. "They just shouldn't be mentioned at all. They should be a secret."

"Secret balls," he snorted, smirking. "Sounds like a bad romance novel."

"Ugh," she muttered, wrinkling her nose. "A baaad romance novel. At least you could get some enjoyment out of an Austin Powers-esque pun movie. Almost zero cringing."

"You just have no sense of humor," he muttered, smirking.

"I have a great sense of humor," she scoffed, insulted. "You almost killed me a few times because of it, I'm fairly certain."

"That doesn't count as 'great'," he retorted dryly.

She made an offended noise, elbowing him a little. "Better than balls humor!"

"Says the woman who just giggled at 'splurged'," he retorted, jostling her.

"You've got a point there," she admitted good-naturedly, shrugging. "But speaking of which, let's get back to the whole where would I be without darling Lorna?"

"Oh, no, I think that ship has sailed," he said cheerfully. "I think we've moved onto shut up and sleep now, darling Lorna. "

"Are you ever surprised you've never suffocated me? Cause I kinda am," she muttered, relaxing against him despite her words.

"Eh, you'd wake up and tap me if you were dying," he said, unconcerned.

She snorted. "I meant on purpose."

"Oh. In that case, yes. Very." He flicked her ear gently. "Sleep."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, and then fell silent. With the exhaustion of the day, even with her nap, she passed out in fifteen minutes.

He wasn't far behind her, glad to have her back beside him. She belonged there, now.

Some things just, some things just make sense
And one of those is you and I
Some things just, some things just make sense
And even after all this time

I'm into you
Baby not a day goes by
That I'm not into you

- Paramore - Still Into You -