He found a shower and took off his backpack, setting it down as he climbed in, fully clothed. He turned the water on, watching red pour down the drain, before stripping out of his clothes and leaving them for cleanup to deal with. He started scrubbing the blood off roughly.
She found a second bathroom and followed suit, the only difference being locking the kitten in the room with her. When she was done she dried off and picked up the kitten again, going to find Sebastian. Her clothes were in his backpack.
He was dressed already, and handed her the pack without comment or looking at her, texting cleanup with his other hand.
She got out her clothes and got dressed awkwardly, still holding the kitten, and steadfastly ignored that he was angry at her, or at the very least annoyed.
"Cleanup is on their way," he said gruffly after a moment, heading for the door. "Let's go."
She nodded and followed without saying anything, the kitten tucked under her arm. After all the shit she'd put up with through the years, he could let her have this.
He headed out of the house and into the street, walking a few blocks before stopping, waiting for the car he'd had sent.
She stopped next to him, silently petting the kitten's little head, but she waited with her shoulder brushing his. She wasn't angry at him.
He stood stock-still while they waited. Eventually the car arrived, and after checking the credentials of the driver, he motioned for Lorna to get in.
She crouched to get in and moved to the other side, leaving plentiful space for him. Maybe he needed some space right now.
He looked over at her occasionally, the way she cuddled the fucking cat, and tried to figure out why he was so annoyed. He settled on a goddamned kitten ruining the evening, and was content with that explanation. "Someone is picking up what we need," he said quietly as the car headed for the network.
"Excellent," she hummed, grinning as the kitten snuggled into her arms and closed it's eyes. God, she wanted to squeeze it so bad.
He didn't speak for the rest of the ride, content to sulk and brew over his newfound hatred for a disappointing-snack-sized animal. They arrived at the network and he climbed out, waiting for Lorna before heading to call the elevator.
At least he was waiting for her instead of storming off, she thought, glancing at him when he wasn't looking, trying to get a handle on why he was mad.
The lift ride was a long silence, which he had no issue with, and he headed for their flat, keying in and holding the door for her, motioning her in a touch sardonically.
She smirked and stepped in, walking over to the couch before sitting and putting Magpie down in her lap. "I'm lucky you love me."
"Mm..." he muttered, heading for their room without further comment.
She rolled her eyes a little and relaxed against the couch, watching the kitten explore in her lap before hopping down onto the cushions. She didn't know why he was so upset. It wasn't like she was adopting a kid. She shuddered at the thought.
He lay down on the bed, fully clothed, and tried to figure out much the same thing. He was a turmoil of emotions and he hated most of them. It was a kitten, for fuck's sake. Why did he care? Why did she care? Why hadn't they let the thing to live for itself?
When the delivery of cat supplies came she set up everything the cat needed, fed her, and then decided to go to bed, though she'd been avoiding the bedroom. She didn't want to be in his space when he obviously didn't want her there. But she needed her sleep, so she sucked it up and walked in, heading for the dresser.
He had undressed and showered again, more carefully this time, and now lay in bed, reading quietly.
She changed into pajamas, brushed her teeth, and then got into bed. She was silent for a minute, and then she couldn't help herself. "What bothers you so much about the kitten?"
He sighed, setting the book down and hesitating a half breath before turning to face her. "It interrupted a great night. We were mid murder-fuck. I got cockblocked by the little bastard."
She pressed a finger to her lips so she wouldn't laugh, taking a deep breath. "Really? That's why you're in such a tizzy? Really?"
"Fuck off," he muttered, rolling away from her and pulling the blankets up over his shoulder.
She sighed, losing the amusement, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'm sorry. But in all seriousness, Sebastian, really? That's it? You've been cockblocked before with less reaction."
He felt sick to his stomach, and didn't feel like looking at her. He stayed turned away, despite the childishness of it, relishing the immaturity for a moment. "It wasn't just getting cockblocked. That was Jim's reward for all of this. The perfect victim, served up warm and clean, and that goddamned monstrosity over there comes in and fucks everything up."
She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes. "I don't think that she fucked it up. It's not... it's not like it was necessarily rare. And Jim still rewarded us. Just because it didn't go like we planned doesn't mean that we don't still have his approval. Which you know, but I don't know, I guess it bears repeating."
"What do you want me to say, Lorna? You got your christ-forsaken kitten. You win." His whole back was tense muscle.
"I want to understand! I want to help, if possible," she said, eyebrows furrowed, feeling a little helpless. "It's not about winning. You're unhappy, and it's not- it can't be- all about the kitten."
He sighed, quiet for a few minutes. "It's fine," he said finally. "Just stress. Ines and Keira and everything... The kitten was just the final straw." He couldn't get the image of her coddling the cat out of his head.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, laying down from her half-sitting position and pressing up against his back, nuzzling into the back of his neck. "Things will be better soon."
He couldn't help relaxing slightly under her touch, his breaths matching hers and slowing slightly. Eventually he asked "What do you think of Keira?"
She was silent for a moment, unsure how to answer. "What do you mean? Personality wise?"
"I don't know. Just... In general." His voice was quieter than it usually was, and he reached out to turn the light off.
"Well, she's a lot like you," she chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and slipping an arm around his side. "I like her, but she doesn't seem to accept that. Or like me back. That's fine with me. I worked my ass off getting you to like me, I don't have the energy to do that with her, too."
He nodded just a little bit at that. "It's odd..." he says finally, quietly. "Having a kid. Seeing yourself reflected so strongly in someone else, even when you just met them."
"Honestly, sometimes I forget that she even is your kid, as weird as that sounds. Like it's just so... unfathomable to me that you made that. God, humans are weird," she chuckled. "What's really weird is that I'm like, the closest thing she has to a mother, which is fucking fucked up. God, I'm going to be her stepmom."
He nodded, and suddenly decided he wasn't tired. He shifted away and got up, heading for the bathroom to take a piss as an excuse.
She was a little startled, and looked after him for a moment, eyes tight, before she curled up on her side of the bed and did her best to stop herself from feeling hurt.
He stayed in the bathroom for a while, just sitting on the closed toilet, running a thumb over his scarred trigger finger. There was so much going through his head, but it all came down to two things.
First, he wanted another one. Wanted a chance to see a child of his own grow, wanted to see himself reflected like that again, see the personality develop, change... And he wanted that for Lorna too.
Second, that could never happen.
Eventually she fell into a light doze. She wasn't sure how long it was later that she woke up again, and for a moment wasn't sure why until she heard a tiny little mew, and she realized the black spot in front of her face was kitten shaped. She fell asleep five minutes later, Magpie snuggled up in her arms.
He returned, he wasn't sure how long later, and paused to consider her curled around the kitten in the dim light. It ached, somewhere deep, and he didn't consider it long, just climbed into his side of the bed and tried to sleep.
The night passed without any incident, though Lorna woke up to hungry mews by her ear, and had to get up to feed the little munchkin before she went back to bed and slept until nearly the afternoon. She felt she deserved it, after the hours she'd been putting in.
He woke when she got up, and couldn't fall back to sleep. He headed for the kitchen, clearing his throat a few times to cure an itch, and started making coffee.
He worked for most of the morning on administrative things, but his mind was elsewhere. On Ines. On Keira. If he was only ever going to have one child, she needed to be protected.
She went out at noon to go take care of things in her department, and oversee one of the first missions taking place since getting the network back. It was almost night when she got back, a bag of two containers of pad thai in her hand. "Hey, you home? I got food."
He looked up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, and nodded. "Yeah. In here. Eat, and then we deal with Ines."
She walked in and set down the bag on the table before getting silverware and sitting down to eat. "Alright. What's the game plan?"
"Your plan seems good," he says, closing his laptop and setting it aside, reaching for food. "Use her love for Keira to get her to renounce it."
"Alright, should be fairly simple then. She should come to her own conclusions. Probably better if we don't spell out anything," she said, half a forkful of pad thai in her mouth.
"How do you mean?" he asked, realizing suddenly that he is starving and shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth.
"She will automatically expect the worse when we tell her Keira's life depends on her cooperation. If we spell out what we'll do to her, we take away the power of imagination. What she imagines will probably be worse."
He nodded in agreement, coughing slightly as he swallowed wrong and wincing, sitting back and then standing to get a glass of water. "That seems like the best course of action."
"Great," she nodded, involving herself with eating for a minute before Magpie wandered in, then dropped her fork and gasped, scootching the chair back as the kitten mewed and ran towards her. "Hi, sweetie!" She gushed, scooping the kitten up. "How have you been today?"
He looked over at her from where he was leaning against the counter, sipping water, and watched her interact with the small black demon creature. "What's it got in its mouth?" he asked disinterestedly a moment later, when the kitten shifted and flashed silver.
She made an alarmed sound, picking up the kitten and prying open its mouth. "Hey! What's in your mouth! Give it!"
The kitten made a soft purring sound, seemingly content, until Lorna pried its mouth open. Then it made an indignant yowl and dropped a 9mm bullet into her palm before scampering away and under the couch.
"What the fuck?" she protested, picking up the bullet in between two fingers. "What the fuck?" She repeated.
He looked over, and shrugged. "Yours, not mine." He walked back over, starting to eat his food again.
"My bullet, or my kitten?" she raised her eyebrows, incredulous. "How the fuck did it get a bullet?"
"Both." He took another bite of food. "And hell if I know. It's tiny. Who knows where the fuck it's going."
"How do you know this is my bullet? It could be yours," she pointed out, a little bit put off her food, or at the very least, distracted.
He rolled his eyes. "Because I don't leave my ammo lying around. Relax. It's not like it could have gotten hurt."
Her eyebrows shot up. "What? What if she'd swallowed it?"
He shrugged, still unconcerned. "It'd shit it out a few days later and probably learn not to do that again. Relax, Lorna. I've left bullets in hot humvees in the desert. The internal warmth of that hellbeast is not going to set it off."
"I'm not worried about it going off, I'm worried about intestinal blockage," she said testily, putting down the bullet on the table with a click of metal on wood.
"Well, I'm sorry that our flat wasn't kitten-proof enough for you," he said dryly, looking over at her. "Would you like help cleaning up your scattered bullets? Maybe I can put baby-locks on the cabinets."
"I don't leave my bullets out, Sebastian," she snapped, getting a little sick of his attitude. "This is probably Keira's fucking bullet. I rarely take bullets out of their magazines. I'm not a cowboy."
He sighed, and stood, dumping his empty container in the trash. "The kitten is fucking fine, Lorna, okay? It's fine. It brought you a goddamned present. Relax."
She huffed, not mollified. "I know you don't care about the kitten, but at least don't be willfully negligent, alright?"
He turned around then, laughing. "Let me get this straight. Your demon found Keira's bullet, and I pointed it out to you so it didn't fucking choke, and now I'm willfully negligent? Fuck off, Lorna. I don't know what crawled up your ass but I'm really not interested in the attitude." He cleared his throat, voice hoarse, and headed for their room. "I'm going to go deal with Ines."
"No, no, fuck you," she snapped, standing, hands on the table. "You know what I fucking mean. Don't be a goddamn asshole about the cat. I know you don't like her but you don't have to make it your main personality trait. "
He didn't respond, just stalked into their room. He briefly considered punching the wall, but didn't feel like finding someone to repair the plaster, so he settled for dropping to the ground and doing pushups as roughly as he could manage, fists clenched and thumping on the floor as he got a little lift between each. He had tension and anger that he didn't understand. He got about thirty in before his chest seized slightly at he had to stop, coughing, annoyed. "Allergic to the fucker," he muttered to himself, sitting back against the bed, closing his eyes, trying to calm his heart rate, lower the anger. Lorna was right. It wasn't fair to be hair-trigger on her like this.
She sat back down and started eating the rest of her food, fuming. She felt a little strange now. It wasn't often that she stood her ground like that. But they'd both agreed in New York that their relationship couldn't remain the way it was forever.
He eventually cooled off, pulse lowering, heartbeat slowing. He felt tired. He stood slowly after a moment, and headed out of their room and over to the kitchen. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "So you want to come deal with Ines with me?"
She looked up from cleaning the dishes in the sink, and nodded a little, shaking water off her hands. "Yeah, sure."
He nodded a little, and cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry."
She cleared her throat, looking away for a second as she dried her hands. "Thanks."
He nodded, uninterested in pursuing that conversation any further and still feeling like shit. He headed for their room again, this time to actually change.
She waited by the door, feeling a little awkward. She just wanted this adjustment period to be over with.
He returned a few minutes later, and opened the door, before offering her his hand.
That meant a lot to her. Silly, how simple it was. Just a simple hand, offered in truce. Physical comfort was always where they were strongest. She smiled a little and took it, threading her fingers through his.
He smiled, too, and walked for the lift.
It took them less than three minutes to get down to the basement, but it felt like eons. His mind was turning over every possible outcome, planning strategies.
They paused outside the door to Ines' room, and she raised her eyebrows. "Ready?"