Keira sat on the far side of the room, chained to the wall. Her nose and face were covered in dried blood, and a nasty bruise had spread across her temple. She looked up as they walked in, and sighed, muttering a swear under her breath. "Where's Ines?"

"She's been dealt with," Moran said calmly, meeting her gaze, studying her reaction. "Jim is back in command now."

Keira took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Is she dead?"

He considered lying, but decided it wasn't to his advantage. If Ines was dead, Keira had nothing else to lose. "No, but at this point she's wishing she was."

"Fuck you guys," she growled, though it was clear that she didn't have much steam left in her. "Just... Fuck. I know you can't let her go, but don't hurt her. Please."

"And why not, exactly?" Moran asked softly, taking slow steps forward. "She kidnapped and tortured me, captured and tortured Harrison and James fucking Moriarty, took the network, and had a good old time pretending to be the pretty pretty princess. So tell me, spawn of mine- why precisely shouldn't I hurt her?"

Keira took a deep breath, biting the inside of her cheek, eyes still shut. She couldn't look at him for a moment. Then her eyes snapped open, glaring up at him. "Like you're a saint? You LEFT ME!" She snarled, yanking against her chains. "Didn't bother to send a single word! But SHE actually cared about me! Unlike you!"

His gut was icy, but externally he remained unaffected. "And my leaving you behind was enough reason to become a traitor?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"You obviously didn't view me as part of this side," she snapped, jerking her head towards the two of them. "You're not a traitor if you don't have anyone to betray."

He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Just because you don't get bailed out with the ranking officers doesn't mean you don't owe the network a little loyalty. I would have thought you were intelligent enough to understand that."

"I saw an opportunity for advancement and I took it," she spat, furiously. Lorna remained in the corner, arms crossed over her chest, watching the two of them carefully. She might need to intervene at some point.

He nodded just a little. "Clearly that went well. You betrayed the network, Keira. I'm tempted to put you down right now. The only reason we aren't dismantling you the way we are your little girlfriend is because I stood up for your pathetic ass."

"Do it, then, motherfucker," she growled, eyes challenging, blazing with fury-

His eyes flashed, and he was reaching for his gun-

Lorna stepped forward, putting a hand on Moran's shoulder. "This is enough for tonight. We're not going to get anywhere." He shrugged her off, but for the moment his hand dropped. He needed to check that they didn't need her for any security protocols, anyway. He turned for the door without a word.

She watched him go, then rubbed her eyes, and looked down at Keira. "Don't antagonize him, please," she sighed. "He's already close to snapping. And if he kills you he will regret it for the rest of his life." She shifted into a crouch so that she could meet Keira's eyes better. "You once asked me if I didn't have something else to live for besides him. Don't you have something else to live for besides Ines?"

"Fuck off," she hissed, but there was a touch of fear in the back of her eyes. She had seen Moran go for the gun, knew she had been seconds away from the end of her rather short life. "If he wanted me to be a sweet little angel he shouldn't have left me to be tortured for information. The only reason I wasn't is that Ines is actually a decent human being, unlike you bastards."

"He made a mistake, Keira. He'll never admit it, but that's what happened. We left in a rush, ahead of schedule. When he realized he left you behind we were in America, and there was nothing he could do," she said levelly, unaffected by the girl's words. "He didn't leave you because he didn't care. He left you because he was preoccupied with protecting Jim and me, and because I got attacked. We shot our way out of here."

"Oh good. Glad it only took him a few days to realize I wasn't in his goddamned checked bag," she growled. "Don't give me excuses. I know for a fact you don't give a shit about me. The only reason we're having this conversation is that you don't want him getting depressed on you."

"I don't know where either of you got the impression that I don't care about you," she said wearily, looking up at the ceiling with a bit of a huffed breath. "You irritate me, yes, we don't get along.. but Jesus, Keira, how can I not care?" She met her eyes again. "You're a lot like your father, and we both know how I feel about him. It's hard for me not to like you."

"Please," she scoffed. "You almost put me down upstairs. Get the hell out, Harrison. This is embarrassing to watch."

She snorted, then chuckled. "And your father cares, and he almost put you down a few minutes ago. Granted, we both have tempers the size of Russia, but honestly, Keira, look for the common denominator," she smirked, standing and heading for the door. Another moment and she was gone.

Moran was leaning on the wall outside. He was half-expecting to hear a gunshot, but Lorna emerged a few seconds later. He shut the door behind her firmly, and headed for the lift.

She ignored him, feeling a little bitter about his attitude towards her, and when they stepped into the elevator she chose the opposite side of him. She didn't need to be subtle about a cold shoulder.

He was quiet for a minute as the lift doors closed, then turned to glance at her. "Why did you stop me?"

She looked over at him, gaze empty. "You would have regretted it for the rest of your life."

He snorted. "You were furious at me for faltering up there, and down here you switch sides? Make up your mind, Harrison."

She scoffed. "Up there she had a shotgun pointed at the three of us, and we were in the middle of a mission. You fucked up, and we all could be dead because of it. But the mission is over, we're done, we're alive. She's not threat anymore. Killing her in cold blood will fuck you up. Remember O'Hare?"

"Yes, thanks, throw that in there. Really fucking stellar pep talk," he growled, stalking out of the lift as it opened and heading for his flat.

She knew that was playing dirty, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She'd decided back in America that she was done taking his shit. She would fight back, and if he wanted to keep her he needed to pull his head out of his ass and accept her help, for the nth time.

He keyed into his flat with the security override when his prints didn't work, and was pleased to see they hadn't changed that, at least. He pushed the door open, and then sighed, closing his eyes and pulling the door partway shut for just a moment. Then he pushed through. It was clear that Keira had been living here. Her things were all over and the place smelled different than it usually did. Not bad, just not him. He left the door open for Harrison if she wanted, and went to find ice for his hand.

She paused in the hallway, unsure whether or not to take the invitation, then decided that it would have been pettier for him to have closed it, and stepped inside, shutting it behind her and walking over to the familiar old sofa to lay down, pulling out her phone and tossing it on the coffee table. Maybe she could nap.

He did a careful sweep of the place, looking for bugs (he found many), bombs, poison, or other traps. Other than the surveillance devices, which he destroyed, the place seemed clean. Eventually he wandered over to where Lorna was sprawled on the couch, and took a slow breath. "Sorry," he said quietly.

She looked over at him after a moment, and nodded. "It's okay."

"I should have killed her," he said softly. "I fucked up a job because of her. Put Jim at risk. I've never done that before." His voice was carefully controlled, as was his expression, but his left hand- holding ice to his right- was tense.

"Have you ever been surprised that badly before?" She asked quietly, raising her eyebrows a little. "I was pissed, I'm not going to lie, but I get it."

"Christ, Lorna, I fucked up, but don't patronize me. I was in fucking special ops. I've dealt with grenades, land mines, sniper nests... yes, I have been that surprised before." He pushed a hand through his hair, agitated. The off-blond was starting to grow out, and there were streaks of silver at his temples. He started to say something else, then shook his head and turned to go into the bedroom.

"Sebastian, I wasn't patronizing you," she said sharply, sitting up as he tried to leave. "I'm trying to.. understand, if not help. Having to shoot your own daughter is loads different from anything you had to do in special ops, especially with our propensity towards murder. Just - whatever," she sighed, waving a hand and standing, grabbing her jacket and heading for the door. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll see you later."

He didn't bother responding. He was tired, and pissed off, and sore, and didn't want to talk to anyone right now anyway. He flopped back on his familiar bed, and tried to ignore the glaringly open other half, closing his eyes.

She took the lift down to the lounge, where there was a small group of people from her department, talking quietly amongst themselves. Very few of the grifters had needed to be disposed of, which she attributed to the average IQ of spies, and not to her reputation. "Kelly! Jesus, can't believe I'm saying this, but I missed your sorry ass," she laughed, once she recognized the tallest man there. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks a little pink. Ah, Kelly. "There any food in this place?"

"Yeah, Harrison - think you guys offed a few folks with leftovers in the fridge. Help yourself to whatever you find, anyone alive will deal with it." Kelly followed her over to the fridge quietly. "So... where have you guys been holed up? What's happened the last few months?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him for a second out of ingrained caution and then returned her attention to the fridge, where she grabbed a promising container of Thai food before straightening up. "America. Armetti. Took out a couple key players in order to fuck up things around here enough to distract everyone. And here we are," she said brightly, pouring out what looked and smelled like drunken noodles into a bowl.

"Here you are," he agreed. "It's good to have you back. Things were terrible under that woman."

She chuckled, popping her food into the microwave to heat up. "Yeah? How was she running our department?"

"I set fewer things on fire, and I understand why you're always miserable," he sighed, leaning against the door of the fridge. "Like I said. I'm glad you're back. Even if I have to eat more cobwebs."

She laughed fully this time, leaning against the counter and rubbing the center of her chest where the laughing pulled at that tight line. "We're long past those days, Kelly. You're actually competent these days. Thank god."

He stood a little straighter at that, and his smile was big and pleased. "Thanks, boss," he said cheerfully. "Couldn't've done it without you kicking my butt."

"I know," she smirked, "And now you have a vested interest in keeping me alive so you don't have to do my job. Win for both of us."

His expression sobered as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Don't go anywhere for a while. Your job is terrible."

"No promises," she grinned, winking at him and then pulling her food out of the beeping microwave.

"No winking," he protested. "I mean it. I don't want it. I hate being in charge of these people." He glanced at a few of the other grifters.

She waved him off. "I'm going to go on vacation if I feel like it, Kelly. I've done enough managing in these five odd years to earn it."

"Darn it," he muttered quietly, though the frown didn't stay for long. "What are you doing scrounging down here, anyway? Don't you usually eat up top? Are the flats that trashed?"

She took a few bites of food before answering, stalling. "No one's stocked my flat, and I'm giving Moran some space at the moment. And I'm not begging from Jim."

He nodded just a little, sensing a line and not pressing further. "Well... you're tired. I'll leave you be. But it's good to have you back."

"Thanks, Kelly. Expect a pay raise once we get the system sorted again. And forward me a list of anyone who's done a good job stepping up while I was gone," she said, leaning against the counter and holding up her plate in a 'cheers' motion. "See you."

He nodded a little, leaving her to her corner and heading off into the quietly mingling crowd.

When she finished eating she headed down to the grifting department to start damage control, putting off going back to the flat. She didn't know what she could say to him that wouldn't start a fight.

She returned to the flat during the early morning, dark circles under her eyes from working through the night after an extremely taxing day.

He hadn't really slept, just lying in bed, dozing and staring at the ceiling, occasionally getting up to find more ice for his hand. Harrison didn't come back that night. Around five in the morning, there were noises in the outer room, and he came out with his gun up, in no way relaxed. He leveled it at the figure in the dim light, before recognizing Harrison with tired eyes and clearing the rest of the room. He sighed, walking back into the bedroom and putting the gun aside with a wince as he uncurled his bad finger.

She followed him in, stripping out of her clothes on the way, too tired to bother doing it in one place and so leaving herself a trail to clean up when she woke up, and collapsed wordlessly into the bed in her underwear, curling up under the blankets and falling asleep practically immediately.

He lay down beside her, curling around her and looping an arm over her waist. He still felt miserable and exhausted, but not enough to deprive himself of her, or sleep, any longer.

She woke up at around noon, and she was disoriented. It took her a second to process the day before. God. They'd finally won.

He was still sleeping, breaths slow and occasionally ruffling her hair, grip on her loose but encompassing.

She carefully extricated herself from him and got up, heading into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat for breakfast. She was too hungry to go back to sleep.

He woke a few minutes later, realizing that she was gone, and got up, rubbing at his eyes with his left hand. His right was stiff, trigger finger blossoming with dark bruises. He headed into the kitchen, nodding to her just a little and opening the freezer to pull out an ice pack.

She made herself a pot of sub-par coffee (apparently Keira had no taste) and toast with jam, and ate in silence, trying to wake herself up a little. She didn't speak to Moran yet. She wanted to see how he would act, first. That was usually safest.

He sat at the table, eyeing the coffee but not there quite yet, icing his hand. "Where were you last night?" he asked quietly, glancing out at the sunset colors reflecting in the windows of the building across the street.

"Working," she sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "Lot of shit to clean up in my department. Kelly could only do so much."

He nodded just a little. "Well, at least everything seems mostly intact..."

"Yeah," she agreed with a shrug, finishing off her toast and sitting back to sip at her coffee. "I have them cleaning up what I'm not required for, so I don't need to be there immediately anymore."

He nodded just slightly. "Good. I imagine Jim will want both of us readily on hand for the next few days." He adjusted the ice pack on his hand, not really looking at her. "I'm sorry for how I acted yesterday. I was being an ass. You were right, and much more forgiving than you needed to be."

She was surprised. She hadn't expected that, not so soon. "Thanks. And, well, things tend to go better when I keep my mouth shut."

He smirked just a little. "That isn't really fair, though. I... I'm trying..." He didn't know where he was going with that sentence, and let it trail off, before starting again. "You want to marry me for some reason, and that's... I should be less of an ass."

She looked over at him, chest clenching a little, and reached across the table to offer her hand. "That means a lot, Sebastian."

Sebastian. She so rarely used his full name. It only seemed to come up when they were being serious, or at the very least, fucking. In a way, he disliked it, because lately it almost always seemed to come up in the middle of uncomfortable conversations.

He reached out and took her hand in his left, his fingers cold from holding the ice pack in place on his right. He looked at their hands, not her face, his fingers tracing over the ring on her finger. For some reason they had decided to be serious about this. He needed to act like it.

She gently squeezed his fingers, her eyes landing on his other hand. "How is your finger?"

"Sore as fuck," he muttered, smirking just a little tiredly. "Not really too pleased with my choice of activities yesterday. But I'll live."

"It's a miracle it's doing well enough to have completed yesterday at all," she smiled, which then turned into a smirk. "Which means I can taper off the being gentle."

He raised an eyebrow, looking up. "You've been being gentle, have you?"

"I have. That, and tied up," she smirked, shrugging a little. "And now I have you all to myself again."

"For the time being," he conceded, standing now to go get himself some coffee. "Though I am not objecting to that line of thought."

She leaned back again, picking up her own and downed the rest of it before it got cold. "What do you mean for now?"

He shrugged. "The dare is ongoing. Jim will try something again eventually."

"The dare is for me," she pointed out, stuffing down a small amount of jealousy.

"True. His end is more the bet. I suppose I should say more than I won't necessarily have you all to myself." He glanced at her. "Not that he's going to make you do anything you don't want to."

She shot a skeptical look at him. "We're both talking about the same person here, aren't we? Jim Moriarty? Owner of the both of us?"

"He won't do anything to you that you don't want," he repeated quietly, fiercely. "At least not... in that way."

She raised a hand to rub at her eyes, sighing wearily. "How do you know that, Sebastian?"

Because if he did, I would kill him. But he couldn't voice that thought. Instead he said, "He isn't that kind of person."

"I highly doubt that, but it feels like a dark thing to argue about, so," she shook her head, waving off the conversation. "I'd rather not think about it."

He didn't respond, just sat back down with his coffee and taking a long sip, scalding his tongue in the process. He closed his eyes. He should be feeling victory right now, dammit.

She sat back, looking around the familiar kitchen, wondering when it would start to feel like home again. It had been such a long time since this had been a safe place, a happy place. She missed those times. And now everything was no longer in the future - it wasn't when we take back the network, it was now. What did they do next? She supposed that was the problem with having one goal for such a long time; now that it was complete, it was hard to know where to go next.

He eventually set the coffee down, looking at Harrison. She looked so... young... all of a sudden. Tired, yes, but despite her illness, she had regained her quiet strength, her sharp cheekbones, her clear gaze. He sat across from her and felt like he'd aged a decade since he'd last sat in this chair. He'd given up trying to cover the silvering of his hair, his bad right hand sat - painful and half-useless - on the table, and he was just... exhausted. Yesterday had promised to be a good, clean hunt and had ended messy and complicated. He'd fucked up. And here he sat, in his own damn kitchen, the feeling of uselessness he'd been trying to swallow since his injury cropping up again. He stood, then, downing the rest of his coffee and heading to the sink to rinse it out.

She watched him once he was no longer looking at her, wondering what he had been looking for. He looked defeated. It was an odd realization, especially now. The iron-core of strength still lay beneath the surface, and the fluid, steady way he moved hadn't changed, but the set of his shoulders spoke of dark thoughts. "What's your favorite city, Sebastian?"

He looked up from rinsing his mug, and it took him a moment to hear what she'd said. Then he was confused. "What?"

"London is my favorite city," she said, rubbing her thumb across a scratch in the table that had been there forever. She wondered where it was from. "What's yours?"

"I..." he trailed off, then shrugged a little. "Edinburgh. Not very Irish of me, but fuck it."

"Alright. Edinburgh. I can live with that. Not exactly the most romantic of places, but it's also not Siberia," she chuckled, then trailed off. "Once everything is back to normal, let's take a few days off. Get married. Kill some people. We'll pick a day Jim's free."

He leaned against the counter, setting his damp mug in the drying rack. "Once everything's normal..." He huffed a quiet laugh. "Whenever the hell that is." It seemed strange to discuss marriage here. That had all happened in a different time and place. Their time away from the network felt... removed somehow, despite the scars it had left on them both. Being back here felt like a different world. He certainly wanted to get married, that didn't falter for an instant, but still, it felt strange. He straightened and nodded. "Sounds good to me."

She smiled a little. "Great. If you want we can film it and send it to Vince. I'm positive he'll absolutely cry."

"We should invite him to skype in live," he smirked, eyes lighting up a little. "Give him some sob story about you wanting him to be there."

She laughed. "I don't think that's going to work after the way we broke the news to him, but it's a good idea."

"Oh well. Worth a shot." He sighed, walking over to snag a kiss before he headed for the bedroom. "I need to deal with Keira today."

She pushed back her chair and stood to follow him. "'Today' might be optimistic. I think it might take some time to get through to her. You should start thinking of justifications to say to Jim."

He muttered something into the shirt he was pulling over his head, but nodded a little once it was off, heading for the bathroom to shower. "I'll think of something that doesn't scream 'shoot me'."

She followed him to the doorway because she had a thought. "Here's a reason: if we convince her to come back to this side, we can use her to break Ines."

He glanced at her as he got the shower going, and made a small noise of approval. "That isn't bad at all."

"I'm sure Jim will counter with something about breaking her anyway, to which I would respond that breaking her with Keira will be far more entertaining for the lot of us," she added on, feeling pretty pleased with herself for thinking of it.

He stripped as he waited for the water to heat up. He was covered in minor bruises from fighting people the day before. He had one large bruise across his ribs where a particularly annoying cleaner had gotten a blow in, but other than that there was nothing too nasty. He stepped into the hot water, mulling the suggestion over. "It ought to work, as long as we can get her to get her head out of her ass." He sighed, leaning against the shower wall.

She stayed in the doorway, leaning against the wall, watching him passively. It was mostly because she liked to watch him move, but she took the time to assess the bruises on his body while she was there. It had been a while since he was the one to be injured. It wasn't really something that bothered her too much anymore. Hand to hand combat injuries were par for the course, and there wasn't much that could be done about that. He blinked as she spoke. "We have to do it in a way that appeals to her stubborn nature. She's contrary. Like you."

"I'm not contrary," he deadpanned, grabbing the soap and starting wash off the sweat and grime of yesterday, more thoroughly than he had during his brief shower last night. "And how do you suggest we do that, exactly?"

"Get Ines to say she was manipulating Keira?" She shrugged, unsure herself. "I don't know."

"No, no, needs to be more than that..." he muttered, absently rubbing soap through his hair. "We need Ines actively betraying her, somehow. I'll think of something. Shouldn't be difficult."

She nodded a little, leaning her head against the doorframe, a hint of a frown on her face. She'd never had the job of un-brainwashing someone before. And the stakes were high with this one.

He was quiet for a bit, rinsing off and then shutting off the water and climbing out. "We should check in with Jim."

She nodded, then paused. "We? Or you? I don't know where I stand with him anymore."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "You don't know where you stand? The two of you spent all day yesterday playing psychic twins."

"I was useful, yes, but am I an essential part of operations now? I've never reported with you before in that sort of capacity. Not unless it was a mission."

He shrugged a little, drying off and walking out into the bedroom. "He said he was going to start putting more responsibility on you, back in New York. You've ridden this out with the two of us. He'll likely want you on hand. You don't have to come in right away, but..." He shrugged again. "Call it a feeling."

"Fucking.. did he?" She muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Why on God's green earth.."

"Why do you think?" he scoffed, starting to get dressed. "He's been saying it since the last time we were in New York, and that was before you were trapped in a labyrinth together and I was a potential traitor. Face it. He's gotten used to you being around, being his second. He isn't going to let that go just because I'm back."

"I guess I've been repressing it," she grumbled, arms crossed. "I just operate under the assumption that he doesn't like me, so I avoid him. The labyrinth wasn't exactly a godsend for our relationship. We squabbled over heroin."

He shrugged. "Let's just say you're on better footing than I am right now and call it good." He finished buttoning his shirt. "You showering, or are you ready to go?"

"I'm ready to go. I can shower later," she said, uncrossing her arms and standing straight from leaning against the wall. "Let's go."

He nodded, straightening his collar one more time, heading for the door then the lift. It was all so odd, being back here like this.

I used to
Never feel like I do now

- Mutemath - Used To -