They did buy the lodge in the end. They weren't going to, but two days in Moran got particularly annoyed with a member of the wait staff and bought the place just to have the petty pleasure of firing him.

The whole endeavor became more bittersweet the closer they came to the end of the week, and Lorna spent a few showers having small crying sessions, but it was mostly a happy affair, with a lot of sex and casual affection. It didn't contain as much laughter as the first time they'd visited, but that was more normal with them anyway. It was on the seventh morning that she got a text from Jim, and she sighed, sitting on the bed and steeling herself before opening it. It was what she expected; calling them back so she could go on a mission. Without Sebastian. Thank god for that, at least.

Moran was furious, but at no one in particular. Jim was making the right call in benching him, and Lorna's mission was necessary. Their first blatant reaction to this Euros character. Still, it put her in the line of fire without him between her and the bullet, and he hated it. They spent the flight back mostly in silence, though she sat pressed up against him, as if she hadn't already spent a week attached to him at the hip, basking in his presence while she still could.

Back at HQ, she unpacked and then kissed Sebastian on the cheek. "I'm going to go report to Jim. See you later?"

He felt completely useless, but nodded tersely. "Enjoy."

She took that for what it was and nodded, then turned and left. Within a couple minutes she was outside Jim's office, and knocked, straightening her shirt as she did so. She hadn't reported to Jim by herself since Sebastian had been fake dead. It felt odd to do it again.

"Come in." Jim was sitting at his desk, flicking through notes on a tablet, eyeing new intelligence coming from his contacts in the government.

She walked in and took the place of Sebastian on the other side of the table, falling into parade rest. "Good day, sir. What's the job?"

He smirked at her stiff posture, one which Moran made look far more natural. "Do relax, Harrison. The military looks poorly on you."

She gave him a dirty look, settling down with her a hand on her hip and her weight on her good leg. "That better?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong, kitten? You seem to be in a shit mood."

She was surprised, but she smiled a little. "Call it jet lag, sir. Sorry. I know I'm a poor replacement for Moran."

"You aren't his replacement. You represent an entirely different branch of my operation," he said, waving her off in a way that was somehow simultaneously reassuring and insulting. "Now sit. We have a lot to discuss."

She took a few steps forward and sank into the closest chair, and then waited for him to get started.

"I assume Moran told you about Euros?" he began, eyeing her expression to judge for himself how much she knew.

She nodded. "A while ago. He was bloody smashed, but yes, he told me," she replied, noting the way he was looking at her and deciding that she wasn't going to make it easy to read her, keeping her expression perfectly neutral.

He nodded primly. "I've contacted Mycroft Holmes. We've reached a truce, of sorts. You're to be placed on assignment with his people in Euros' prison."

She took a deep breath, working her lips for a second before she nodded and let the breath out. "Yeah, sure. That sounds like something that would happen in this whole crazy situation. Any people of his that I know?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Rather unfortunately, Mycroft does not trust me to keep Euros in her cage. So he's sending along a watchdog." He sneered the last word. "John Watson."

Lorna squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then opened them, eyebrows raising, blinking hard. "Good God in heaven has quite the fucking humor. It's been a spell since we last laid eyes on him, isn't it?"

Jim laughed. "Yes. I desperately hope he remembers you, though he was so high on drugs at the time that he may not."

"Your wishes are the exact opposite of mine, unsurprisingly, on this topic," she said wearily, though she wore a dry smile. "I heard his wife bit the dust. Was that us? I can't remember."

He shrugged. "Not directly, though we were involved in the situation leading up to it. It doesn't matter. He's moved on. I'd go as far as to say he's settled for Sherly, though he doesn't seem to have realized it yet."

She nodded a little. "What's the mission, then? Scouting? I assume you want us to avoid making contact with Euros."

He nods. "At least at first. She is an incredibly skilled manipulator. I don't want to risk exposure immediately."

Uh oh. "Do you anticipate this mission being long, sir?"

"Not overly so." Jim shook his head. "Long enough to get yourself integrated, get the read on the facility and her influence. A few weeks, perhaps a month."

She bit the inside of her cheek, but otherwise didn't react to the time. A month, spent away from Sebastian, when every moment was precious. "Understood, sir. Any other details I need to know about?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm still working things out with Holmes. I'll send you the details to review tonight. Your plane leaves tomorrow morning."

She nodded again, moving to stand. "Will that be all, sir?"

"That will be all." He didn't bother waving her out, just returned to his work.

She stood and exited, closing the door behind her softly and then sighing, eyes falling shut for a moment. Then she straightened herself and walked to the elevator. Time to give Moran the news.

He wasn't in the flat. Instead there was a note on the coffee table.

Down at the shooting range.

Magpie was there, lounging across the couch, and she gave Lorna a lazy glance. She had grown significantly in the past months, lengthening out, though she was still skinny.

She sighed, but understood, and sat down on the couch for a moment, leaning down to kiss Magpie. "Hi, sweetie. You're getting big. I'll come try to hang out before I have to leave again, okay?"

Magpie gave a small chirp, seemingly just glad to have some attention, and she gave the cat another pet before she stood again and headed for the door.

A few minutes later she stepped into the mostly-empty shooting range. At the far end was Sebastian, and she walked towards him, staying in his peripheral vision so she didn't surprise him.

He emptied his clip and set the gun down, turning to nod at her. He had been practicing relentlessly with his right hand, trying to get his game back after the loss of his finger.

She gave a slight smile, and then let out a breath. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. A mission to scout out Euros' location. With John Watson. For perhaps a month."

His face- already sallow with illness- lost another shade to anger, but that was his only obvious reaction. He picked up the gun and began to meticulously reload it.

She sighed, turning away a little. That was about the reaction she had expected. She couldn't soothe him this time. What was there to say?

He finished loading the gun, raised it, fired. Emptied the gun again, set it aside again, stared at the target with a spread of eight holes barely the size of a two-pound coin. It infuriated him further. At this range he should be able to leave a single hole.

He took a slow breath.

"What security will you have?"

She bit the inside of her lip, looking away slightly. "Non-existent. If it makes you feel better, John is an army man."

"I know precisely what John Watson is capable of." He had laid the man apart, piece by piece. Had fractured his psyche. "That is a good portion of my concern."

She grimaced and nodded. "I won't let my guard down. I'll be as vigilant as I know how. Believe me, I don't want to be caught there."

He turned to look at her fully, then. "She's a Holmes. I find it difficult to believe they're taking our side over hers, here."

"Is it?" She said doubtfully, one side of her mouth turning up skeptically. "She tried to destroy her brother's life, didn't she? Creatively? With Jim as her instrument? Isn't she locked up to protect the rest of the fucking world?"

He shrugged. "The Holmes' are loyal. They aren't going to trust us near Euros, I see no reason we should give them the courtesy."

She sighed, raising a hand to rub her eyes, her wedding ring glinting in the fluorescent light. "Yeah, you're right. I don't want you to be because it means I'm going to have a very tense month."

"If you didn't think it was going to be a tense month in the first place, you're an idiot." He reloaded his gun and tucked it into his shoulder holster, adjusting his jacket.

She rolled her eyes. "I mean even tenser, obviously. It was going to be rough no matter what. But I like working with a partner I can trust, at the very least."

He shrugged, heading for the door. His right hand ached, arm throbbing slightly in sympathy. "So make it so that you can."

She followed, scratching an itch on her neck. "Are you asking me to seduce John Watson? Because that's what it sounds like you're asking."

He shrugged. "It is what you do. If it keeps you safer, do it." It ate at him to consider, but it was necessary and he was pragmatic.

She nodded. "Yeah, alright," she sighed, rubbing a thumb over the ruby on her finger. "Better to come back feeling gross than not come back at all."

He nodded slightly, glancing at her fidgeting. At the snake-entwined ring on her finger. "That about sums it up."

She fell silent as they reached the elevator, not sure what else to say at the looming presence of her upcoming mission. How much would he deteriorate while she was gone?

He called the lift, and leaned against the wall, casual. His shoulder felt bony pressed against the plaster. She wasn't speaking, and he saw no reason to, either. Not really. "When do you leave?" He felt like she had told him, but he'd been too angry to mark what she'd said.

"Tomorrow morning," she said quietly, biting the inside of her cheek.

He just nodded a little. There was nothing he could do. This was her job. It wasn't like before, when Jim had been risking her life on fruitless missions. This was necessary. She was the best they had.

The doors opened onto their floor and she stepped out, looking around once with a sort of resigned feeling in her chest. The last time she had returned from a trip she had been thrilled to see the place again. Now it was just a reminder of the end of their bittersweet honeymoon. She headed for the door, scanning it open and stepping inside.

Moran entered behind her, and went to sit on the couch, grabbing his laptop from the end table and trying not to look as exhausted as he felt. He was nauseous, and shooting had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit.

She passed behind the sofa on her way to pick up a lounging Magpie, tucking her up against her chest, under her neck, her eyes on what she could see of Sebastian's face. The invisibility of his illness was beginning to fade, she thought. He was tired more of the time, now, and perhaps slightly thinner, even though it was hard to tell, considering how much time she spent with him - the decline wasn't noticeable. She turned and put down Magpie, and walked into the bedroom, beginning the process of packing for a mission like this.

Shinyfuck wandered over to gnaw at the toe of his boot, and he nudged her off, logging into his laptop and beginning the blessedly mind-numbing process of wading through a week's worth of missed emails.

She finished packing and then sat on the bed, putting her head between her hands and trying to make the upcoming mission gel correctly in her mind. Working with John Watson to fight a Holmes. Jesus.

Eventually he noticed that Lorna hadn't come back, and so he set his laptop aside and stood. Instead of heading for the bedroom, however, he headed for the kitchen, and began assembling an invitation to emerge in the guise of surf-and-turf stir-fry.

Eventually the smell of cooking food wafted through the door, and her thoughts were interrupted by her stomach gurgling. She stood and walked out into the living room, following her nose. It wasn't exactly a surprise to find him cooking when she reached the kitchen, but she was surprised to see surf in the surf'n'turf. She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a turf guy?"

He shrugged, stirring the shrimp into the vegetables. "Not sure where you got that impression. How often have we gotten sushi?"

"You hate literally said to me you'd rather have turf over surf any day," she chuckled, walking further into the kitchen to lean against the counter by the stove, out of his way but close to him.

"You seem to like both," he pointed out with a shrug, tossing in some soy sauce and chopped garlic. "Unless you're objecting."

"No, just commenting on your past assertions," she shrugged, and tried to stuff down another encroaching wave of existential dread about the mission.

He didn't respond, just shrugged and stirred the food before turning to grab plates and silverware.

She stifled a sigh and moved to get herself a cup of water. She understood why he wasn't really up for conversation at the moment, but it was hard pretending that everything was okay with nothing but silence.

He filled two plates. "What is your itinerary looking like?"

"I leave for the plane tomorrow morning. I glanced at the game plan and it looks like I'll be meeting up with Watson at the airport, and then we'll be given more information. The less places it is, the better, I suppose."

He made a small noise of acquiescence, though internal annoyance sparked. He hadn't been consulted on this. Jim had kept him completely in the dark. He should have reviewed these plans. "Good." He set the plates on the table a bit roughly and tossed forks beside them.

She sighed silently, sitting at the table a little stiffly, tension in her chest. She knew, realistically, that Sebastian didn't turn on her when he was like this anymore, that he was long past the point of harming her (unless she made a point of asking him to), but the learned wariness was still there, and she kept her eyes on her food as she started eating.

His and hers closets are perfect for skeletons
Hiding resentment and shared infedelities
Cheers to regret, wash it down with some booze
Drinking like lovers do

- Hey Violet - Like Lovers Do -