"Well," Jim started slowly, drawing out the word, his head tilted slightly to one side as he considered his options. "Harrison, please retrieve the rope from the drawer beneath the whiskey. Hard to include our dear Tiger if he's on gun-duty, hm?" he said, and she slipped away and was back in a few moments, the rope curled loosely in her hand. She crouched next to the man and began trussing him up, securing him so his feet and hands were tied together behind his back. It wasn't done by Moran, but it would do.
Sebastian waited for her to finish binding the man, and reached down to yank it around and be sure it was secure before he lowered the gun. He returned it to the holster, then removed his jacket and the shoulder holster, crossing the room out of the man's field of view and tucking both into a drawer.
Jim looked the man over, extending his knife to carve a lazy furrow into the leather of his gag. "Funny... I don't remember why you're even here." He did, but that was beside the point. The man's indignation was worthwhile.
Lorna smirked, standing to the side and tapping her finger soundlessly against the blade of her knife. She wanted to poke the guy with it, but she didn't dare draw first blood on Jim's kill. It would be rude, first of all.
"That's pretty pathetic for you," she said to the bloke, playing along with Jim. "He remembers everyone."
The man muttered something behind the gag, but it was adequately suppressed, and he was left a voiceless bound creature on the ground in front of them. Sebastian approached again, and reached out to grab the man's hair, yanking his head back. He had no such compunctions with Jim, he knew what boundaries to press to get him going, and grinned at his employer. "Blood him, or I will."
"Feeling bold today, are we?" Jim snorted, raising an eyebrow at Moran, but then his gaze dropped back to their victim, and brought the knife to rest point down on the meaty section between his shoulder and neck, behind the collar bone, and slowly began pressing down on the knife, sinking slowly through the fabric of his shirt and into skin and flesh. The man snarled behind the gag as blood welled up around the blade. Lorna felt chills on the back of her neck as she watched, her focus zeroing in on that precious red ooze that was spreading down his shirt. It had been a while since she'd been able to kill someone in the comforts of her own territory - without a sword hanging over her. She was very much going to enjoy this.
The man eventually couldn't stand the pain and tried to yank away, but lost his balance as his wrists yanked against his ankles, and ended up falling into the blade harder, a yowl sounding under the leather. Moran laughed, and grabbed his hair, hauling him back upright, if only because he knew Jim hadn't exceeded his desire for delicacy.
"Christ," Jim sighed like he was sinking into a hot tub, "I love it when they squirm. Makes the de-limbing so much more satisfying," he chuckled darkly, and twisted the knife in its fleshy housing, the man writhing in their grips.
Moran stepped sideways until he stood astride the kneeling man's ankles, and yanked their victim backward to brace him against his thigh, holding him more securely.
"You going to pop his arm off now? We just got started."
"No, I like to build to it. I'm not Harrison, I possess patience," he said smoothly, pulling his knife out of the man's shoulder with a squelch. Lorna stood to his side, arms crossed. He glanced at her. "What, nothing? I'm shocked, Harrison."
She tsked. "I'd be more of a liar than I already am if I argued."
"No, you like to drag it out," Sebastian agreed with Jim, his own knife finding the man's throat and scraping up slowly, shaving the captive's stubble like an expert barber, enjoying the slight tremor of anticipation and fear that he felt run through the man.
Lorna crouched by the man to watch Sebastian's knife work better, and to get in the victim's space, a predatory smile on her face. Jim said nothing for a moment, leaning down and delicately slicing a line around the shell of his ear, blood welling up behind his blade. "Yes," he said, observing the blood dripping from his ear. "I do."
Sebastian tilted his blade to catch skin, slowly carving a furrow that traced the man's jawline. "I wonder if I can take his face off," he offered conversationally. The man squirmed again, yanking against his restraints, whatever curses he was spitting at them muffled by leather.
"I don't know, I bet you could," Lorna hummed, lifting a hand to drag a finger gently down the man's cheek for a few inches, then letting her nail drag a line down his face, unable to resist herself.
"Have fun, kitten," Jim muttered to her off-handedly, as he started up another puncture point at a spot a little ways down from the first. "But if you rush things, I will take out any lingering frustration on you."
"I don't Bogart kills, in the words of my husband," Lorna hummed distractedly, making a flower by indents in the man's skin, created by her fingernail. "This one is obviously yours."
"Good," Jim sighed, most of his focus on the knife sinking slowly into heaving flesh. "It would seem incredibly anticlimactic to kill you over something so petty." Moran chuckled.
Lorna lifted her head to give Moran a look at his chuckle, and then got back to work, covering the man's exposed face with a network of small vines and flowers, switching from her fingernail to the very tip of her knife, barely scratching. It would sting, but it wouldn't bleed, not unless he started to make some rather silly faces.
"Feeling artistic?" Sebastian asked, amused, his eyes fixed on the blood trickling down the man's skin from the wounds Jim was leaving.
"I haven't had the chance to be in a while," Lorna hummed, finishing another slow scrape with a bit of a flourish. Jim snorted in amusement behind her, and she paused to look over her shoulder at him curiously.
"I was thinking how amusing it would be to have a portrait of myself done and put on the wall," he explained, and raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. "How are you with paint?"
"Piss poor. Mostly a charcoal medium type. I'd get someone who won't make you look like that renovated painting of Christ."
"Mmm... I'll look for another artist then. Though I wouldn't worry too much about the painting. It's a forgery." He moved his knife again, setting up a careful Fibonacci spacing down the man's body.
Lorna shook her head, clicking her tongue once, and beginning to carve into the man's ear. "You just can't trust a painting these days, can you? At least they didn't ruin the original, I suppose." She sat back for a moment to get a broader view of her carvings, lifting a finger to follow one of the swirling lines. She sighed. "My line work used to be better..."
"It looks fine," Moran snorted.
"Hardly your best work, but not your worst," Jim commented idly. He tossed his knife aside with a sigh. "Bored now," he muttered, before ramming a finger into the man's eye socket and popping his eyeball free before anyone could respond. The man shrieked in agony.
Lorna leaned back from the man's face, keen on avoiding eyeball juice. "It looks fine, yes, but as Jim said, not my best work," she said, as if Jim hadn't just popped out the man's eye.
"We'll practice more," Sebastian assured her warmly, watching as Jim let the eyeball drop and swing on its nerve. He finally released the man fully, and knelt behind him, starting to cut his clothes off.
"God, you know how to keep the romance alive," she chuckled low, grabbing hold of the man's shoulder as he writhed like a fish out of water, keeping him from going anywhere at an effective rate. Jim was shrugging out of his suit jacket, turning and moving to hang it on the back of his chair, and came back rolling up his sleeves.
"What next? Any requests from the disgusting couple?"
"Disgusting, now, are we? That's hurtful, boss," Seb said with a grin as he started flaying a strip of skin down the man's spine.
Lorna planted her weight on the man as he heaved, in the strange position of being the best person in the room to do so. "In terms of requests, Seb's activity looks like fun - anyone ever exposed a spinal column on a living person? I haven't."
Jim shrugged. "Not personally. Fairly certain I've asked your dearly devoted to before, however," he said dryly, watching the aforementioned man's knife as he baited him.
"You have," Sebastian said with a nod. "The tricky bit is how quickly they tend to bleed out, and the kidneys. But it's doable."
"I can settle for ending above the kidneys. It's all new to me, back there," she amended with a shrug, not quite willing to risk accidentally killing the bloke before Jim was done with his fun.
Moran looked to Jim, who stood and circled the man to lean against Moran's shoulder. To both their surprise, Moran had to compensate slightly for the weight, but Jim steadied himself, and neither of them mentioned it.
"Go on, Tiger. Paint me a picture."
Moran smiled a bit, and set back to work, separating another long slab of flesh from its former owner.
Lorna whacked the man on the back of the head with her knife hilt as he wriggled and bucked again, though her eyes were riveted on Sebastian's work, the buzzing energy that blood and gore gave her humming in her head and chest.
The man's wails of pain were fading into half-conscious moans, but Moran ignored him, setting expertly butchered cuts of meat to the side as he carefully dug out the column of the spine.
"Do they lose the ability to move when you do this, or do they squirm until they pass out like our friend here?" Lorna asked, slapping the man's shoulder twice.
"It depends," he said with a shrug as he worked. "I'm not being particularly careful right now, but if you are, you can avoid major nerve clusters and let them retain mobility in their limbs. At the moment I'm only really being cautious about blood vessels."
"Sir, I don't know how you expect me not to be disgusting about him when he's walking around with know-how like that," Lorna sighed dreamily, a hint of a smirk on her lips.
Jim made a coughing sort of noise behind her that she read as amusement.
"Look at me, lucky bastard that I am, somehow managing to end up with the only two people on the planet who consider narrated dissection flirtation," Moran deadpanned as he started hollowing out under the ribs on the right side, stripping back muscle.
Lorna leaned over to get a better look, the man deep in shock and obviously unconscious. She was smirking a little. "I knew there was some reason you married me."
"It had to have been more than that, considering I'm not married to him," Jim said dryly.
"I knew better with you, boss," Moran muttered, his voice about the only dry thing about him, blood slicking the rest. He shifted aside to give Lorna better access as he excavated the spine. "Go on. He's still alive. Have a feel around."
She made an interested noise, shifting inward and slipping her fingers into the fleshy crevice, tracing over bone and connective tissue and nerves with focus. Her hands, which had been fairly clean so far, were now coated in crimson.
As she brushed certain things with her fingers, the man in front of her twitched involuntarily, the frayed remnants of nerves sparking off reactions in the near-corpse. He set his knife aside and stepped back, giving Jim space if he wanted it.
Lorna chuckled quietly to herself as she made the man do a very small, sad approximation of the worm. It was mostly twitches in the right pattern. She looked up at Jim as he moved closer. "You want to make him dance, boss? I can move."
Jim rolled his eyes, reaching down next to Harrison and ramming his hand forward with unerring precision, grabbing something with a savage grip and ripping backward. He tossed Moran the heart as the man fell completely still, and stepped over the corpse, walking toward the door to his apartments. "The shower is mine first."
Lorna made a noise of affirmation, looking at the heart with dark eyes before her gaze swung to Moran. She grinned at the sight of him. "Who says we need to shower? I'd enjoy the boost to my fear level to show up to my next meeting like this."
"Well, I was planning on fucking you both before I showered," Jim said as he opened the door. "But if you'd rather go to a meeting..."
Lorna looked over to Jim by his door to the penthouse, her grin somehow wider than before. "Oh, I thought you wanted us to shower first," she said, and stood, wiping her hands on her slacks and stepping over to Sebastian to offer him a hand up.
"Boring," Jim muttered, disappearing through the door. Sebastian stood without her hand, picking up his knife as he did so.
He gave her a smile, eyes dark. "Lead the way."
"You just like the view," she muttered, but led the way with a slight smirk on her lips, pulling open the door and glancing up at the light above the lift to confirm Jim hadn't waited for them. She gestured to the stairwell door as Sebastian came in, starting, "Can you open the- Actually, I guess that's my job now, huh?" and stepping forward with the purpose of keying open with her thumb, though paused before making contact, glancing at her husband. "This doesn't set off an alarm, right?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Not if you press the 'all clear' button behind the door once we're through within ten seconds." He stepped through once she opened it, closing the door behind them and pressing a pin on the door hinge, which clicked in confirmation. "There."
"Good to know," she said, looking up the stairs, then looking back at Sebastian, her smirk returning. "Let's go get messier, hm?"
He nodded, lips quirking. "It's been too long."
And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that's my only advice
Come on now, who do you
Who do you, who do you, who do you think you are?
Ha, ha, ha, bless your soul
You really think you're in control?
- Gnarls Barkley - Crazy -
Hard rubber soles clicked across worn linoleum. The hospital door was poorly hung, creaking roughly as the woman opened it, then slamming shut behind her. She eyed the man sitting on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.
"You're here early."
"I like to be early," he said back in response, calm, unhurried. Vincent looked up at her as he finished the last button on his shirt, his dark eyes landing with a weight to them. He thought he knew what he was dealing with. The woman was nice to look at (she was no Lorna, but who was), though had a strange bearing, and she had the resources to get him this chance. Wiping the slate... Not clean - just.. molding it into a familiar shape. "You're as early as I."
"I arrived when you did," she said with a shrug. "I wanted to be sure you were ready to go through with this."
He made a derisive sound, shrugging out of his shirt and folding it to set to the side. "When I make decisions, I tend to stand by them. I'm aware of the challenges. I have tried very nearly everything to get her to see reason. Maybe she won't. But she won't just condemn me to- to fading away like a nobody." He unclenched his fists slowly. "I am ready."
She nodded slightly. "I admire that in you. You have drive. You get things done." She smiled. "I think this is going to work very well."
He gave her a dry, cynical sort of a smile. He looked bitter. He was bitter. "You can stop trying to make sure I go through with it. I will. You'll get what you're owed in the bargain. Now, unless you have something pressing, I'd like a little silence before it's time."
"No, no, by all means," she said with a nod. "I'll leave you to it. Best of luck, I'll see you later."
Armetti nodded, watched Euros leave, and took a deep breath. Time to prepare.
Sebastian rolled up the sleeves of his crimson shirt. Technically he had no reason to be in uniform, but it was what he was comfortable in, and he didn't own much else. The only slight leniency he had given himself with his appearance was the beginnings of a neatly trimmed beard.
He glanced at Lorna where she was doing her makeup. "What if you just went by yourself?"
She looked at him in the mirror, applying mascara. "Don't be a wimp. If I went by myself I would spill all your secrets because you weren't there to stop me. And because it would be funny for me to tell your mother and kid that sometimes I'm the boss in the bedroom. If you're there, you can kick me."
"You fight dirty," he growled, walking up behind her, his hand closing around her throat with a strength he'd only just recently regained. He didn't press hard, but new, rough calluses scraped against her skin, and fingers pressed against her veins. "I could just threaten you a little."
She cleared her throat a little, looking at him in the mirror with a flush in her cheeks that she hadn't put there with any of her makeup. "You could, but then we'd be late, and as much as that's tempting to you, I was aiming on being on time tonight," she hummed. She was tempted, but she didn't need to say it.
He gripped tighter for just a moment, bending down to kiss the back of her neck. "I'll do my best to keep this entertaining for the both of us, then," he said quietly, before he released her and went to find his shoes.
She took a short, hard breath inward to reset herself and finish putting on her mascara, a shiver going up her spine. Well, this would be interesting. She finished the rest of her makeup and met him at the bedroom door. "Is Keira already here waiting? I would bet on your mother not arriving early."
"Why aren't we just going out somewhere and meeting them there?" he asked, exasperated. "No. They aren't here yet. The kid knows I'm not thrilled about this."
"Because I don't want to be shadowed by security all night. And here we can tell them to get out and walk home if we're too impatient for the night to end," she said, opening the door and stepping into the living room. The renovation had gone well, to put it mildly.
"If we're at a restaurant, we could just leave," he pointed out with a sigh, following her out. "At least we won't be trying to ram into the damned kitchen. But I don't think Jim really built this place with entertaining in mind."
"No, he didn't, and I can't blame him. We're not big entertainers. I do appreciate the hooks in the ceiling, though," she added with a hum, walking to the set table and standing over it for a second to see if she could spot anything wrong with it.
"Stop hovering," he said, walking over to the liquor cabinet to pull out a bottle of scotch, considering the label. "It's Keira and Ratree, for Chrissakes, not the pope."
Lorna chuckled a little, shaking her head a bit. "This is the first time I've ever done a family dinner.. thing. And sure, I'm not out to impress Keira - I think punching them in the face and stealing a shotgun from them is probably the best I'm ever going to do at that, loathe as they are to admit it to anyone - but I would rather like your mother to like me. I know we don't do normal. I don't particularly want normal. But I need... just a little slice of it, I think." She turned to look at him, hands resting on her hips. "Pour me a glass, if you want me to relax."
He nodded, pouring a considerable glass for her and a splash for himself. Not more than a taste, realistically. His doctors would have objected to even that, but they could jump off a bridge. He passed her the tumbler. "Drink up."
She eyed his drink for a second and then drank two big swallows of her own after deciding not to fight him about it. She took in a deep breath at the bracing taste, and then let it all out in a whoosh. "Alright. I'm more relaxed. Where's Magpie, anyway? I could use a kitty kiss. A hug, even, if I was brave enough to get cat fur on this dress."
"You and the damned cat," he muttered. There was a knock on the door, and he wandered over toward it. "I have no intention of being pleasant company, I hope you know that."
She pointed fiercely at him, brows furrowed. "Yes you will, or I will be significantly less fun for you later. Yes, I'm playing that card- Hello, Ratree!" Lorna went from hissing to all smiles as Sebastian opened the door. "And Keira!" Lorna added, as she spotted Sebastian's spawn standing awkwardly to the side of Ratree - she wondered if the two had awkwardly shared the elevator, too.
Moran stepped back to let them in, adding a, "C'mon, kid," to Keira as they hesitated, his tone conveying mutual resigned discomfort.
Lorna met Ratree as she stepped in, putting on an enthused smile that she was working hard to believe. This had been her idea, yes, but she was nervous about it - she wanted it to go well. "Thanks for coming, guys," she said as Keira relented and walked in - they shared a close-to-commiserating look with their father on the way.
"Alright," Moran said, shutting the door behind them. "Here's the deal: I hate social gatherings of any sort. So does Keira. That's two on two already, and I don't know your preferences Ratree, but we're at least at a draw. Given that, can we please skip the propriety and move on to swearing and interesting conversation?"
Keira stood behind him, nodding slightly in a way that suggested they were desperately trying to make this look like it wasn't a planned mutiny.
Lorna shot Sebastian a look that told him he was going to hear something about that later. Ratree chuckled, giving a shrug. "Fine with me. Is that scotch?"
"Yes, it is," Lorna replied, "Sebastian, pour these two a drink? Keira, would you help me grab the food from the kitchen?" One of the renovations had been a refurbished kitchen, with an added door to keep the cat from getting any food on the counter.
"Gladly," he sighed, walking over to grab the bottle and a few more glasses.
Keira followed after Lorna. "Remind me again why I'm here?" they asked once they were in the kitchen.
Lorna treated Keira to the look Sebastian had just gotten. "I swear to God, it's like I'm trying to force you two to do Christmas. I know better than that. This is the most I'll ask of you for at least a year. Please give me a little cooperation," she pleaded, turning off the look and turning for the table, beginning to pick up platters like a well-trained server. "You want a favor from me to behave? I'm not above favors."
Ratree took the scotch Sebastian offered her, and for a moment considered trying to remark on the renovation, which she'd heard about in an email from Lorna, and which she quite liked, but decided was too mundane for her son's taste. She decided to try to dive headfirst in. "Kill anybody.. interesting, this week?"
He glanced at her, and to his surprise, cracked an amused smile. "I did not. Not this week. Unfortunately now that I'm consigned to recreational murder only, I've had less opportunity." He raised his voice slightly. "Lorna, we should go back to New York. It was easier to kill things there."
Keira's eyes lit slightly. "New York. I wanna go. There's your favor."
Lorna's teeth clicked shut in surprise, and then she was frowning slightly. "Trying to make it hard on me on purpose? Armetti is currently missing, his network isn't under our direct control - you can go when we settle things down over there. That, and after I convince Jim," she said, the last part slightly less confident than the rest. Then, arms laden with food, she walked out into the other room, heading swiftly for the table. "I'd love to - last time I was there I spent most of my time slowly dying in the alleys. Once things clear up there, we should go."
Ratree moved forward to help Lorna with one of the more precarious trays, and said, "New York sounds like it's been eventful for you two."
Lorna snorted. "You don't know the half of it."
Keira followed after with a bowl of salad and a few bottles of dressing, setting it on the table. "Yeah, wasn't that where Moriarty had dad torture you? Or was that somewhere else?"
Ratree glanced at Moran. "You tortured her?" she asked, uncertain what tone to use with that question.
"Yes, that New York," Lorna told Keira calmly, ignoring Ratree's question for the moment. She wanted a nice family dinner, but her life consisted of dark things. If Ratree wanted to be a part of it, they wouldn't hold back anything. "But Sebastian was imprisoned there, so I can't say that he had the best time either, for a bit," she added, setting down her last plate.
Keira looked over at Sebastian. "You look like the type who's been in prison, but I wasn't sure you'd actually been there."
"At least I don't look like the type who went to juvie for shoplifting gum," he shot back with a smirk.
Keira laughed and started setting food out, glancing at Lorna. "What'd they get him for, anyway?"
Lorna glanced at Ratree slightly, and shook her head, sighing. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Nothing he actually did. Jim fudged it to fool Mallory. But at the trial I had to play his victim. It was a rough couple months." She said tersely, and pulled out a chair to sit. Ratree followed her lead, and wisely didn't ask about the victim thing.
"You know, maybe we should avoid talking about unpleasant things," Sebastian suggested as they all sat. "Like the last... Ten years or so." He smirked. "Ratree... What about you? Ever been to New York?"
"Once or twice a year, on financial business," Ratree replied with a small smile, seemingly eager to take Sebastian's advice. "It's usually a lot of strong-arming Wall Street gentlemen into funneling their money where I think is appropriate. Fun things like that," she shrugged gently. Lorna began scooping out food for herself, gesturing for the rest of them to do the same.
"Help yourselves, guys. My dress notwithstanding, we're going for casual, right?"
Keira didn't bother responding, just reached out to start loading steak and bread onto their plate. "Do the two of you always have access to the boss's chefs? Or only if you ask nicely?" they prompted. "Trying to get a handle on my eventual perks."
"Assuming you survive that long," Sebastian jabbed, almost fondly.
"It seems to be a perk that no one tells you about until you figure it out for yourself. I didn't know I could use them until I started hanging out with this bloke," Lorna snorted in amusement, pointing briefly at Sebastian. "Honestly, I think the kitchens are relieved to have something to do, considering Jim's eating habits." She dug into her meal then, making a happy noise as she bit into a bite of steak.
Keira made an annoyed noise. "That's been difficult to get the hang of. When to let him be and when to step in and say 'It's been seventy-two hours since you've consumed something, go eat.'" They looked to Sebastian. "I know you had some more leeway-"
"I had no such thing," Sebastian interjected with a snort. "And scars to prove it." He indicated the three thin lines that crossed his face. "You just have to do it anyway. Part of the job."
Keira looked a little disgruntled with such an answer, but was obviously mulling it over as they forked another piece of steak into their mouth. Lorna considered Jim's little gifts on Sebastian's face thoughtfully for a moment, then made a little noise.
"Hm. Bet if I'd had to stitch you up now as opposed to those years ago, I'd do a piss poor job. I haven't had to practice in years."
Ratree raised her eyebrows slightly, a minorly-impressed look. "You stitched up his face?"
"Yeah, she did," he said with a nod. "Didn't feel like going to the infirmary. Hate that place, and they weren't bad enough to warrant it. She's got good hands. Draws well." He reached out to scoop some more potatoes. "She's stitched me up on a few occasions."
Lorna scoffed in amusement, looking up from her scotch at Seb. "You let me sew you up because I draw well? Good lord," she laughed, shaking her head.
Keira, recovered from learning it was inevitable til they got their own mark from Jim, pounced on the opportunity to be annoying. "You guys stitch each other up? Cute." Their voice was just shy of mocking. Lorna snorted.
"You're gonna get smacked, you know that?"
"Or stabbed," Moran said calmly. "She did just say she needed practice. Besides, I don't stitch her up. Scars are more of a problem for her line of work than mine. With me it doesn't really matter, does it?" He grinned, the white scars of his words stretching slightly with the movement.
Keira sighed, looking thwarted, and returned to their meal beaten. What, were they going to go head to head with Moran? That was best left for crazy people like Jim and Lorna.
Ratree, meanwhile, looked like she was beginning to actually conceptualize what most people found so terrifying about her son. He was beginning to reclaim that presence that he'd briefly lost to the cancer, the one she had never seen before.
Lorna cleared her throat. "We still need to do India again. I think the heart surgery scar has gone out of fashion."
He laughed. "I won't object. But no mopeds. That one bastard was enough. I'm sure they'll be glad to have you back, we paid them well enough last time."
Ratree had a look that suggested she was rapidly compiling information. "You had heart surgery?"
"Unfortunately, I don't control the mopeds," Lorna sighed, then gave a shrug directed to Ratree. "Sort of. Related to Mycroft, actually - he caused it. Nothing was actually wrong with the organ itself. I'll tell you more about it some other time, but we are trying to avoid the unpleasant things that have happened to us during dinner. Hell, I'll tell you about it after we've finished and I've got another couple of scotches in me," Lorna finished in a mutter.
"Make sure you drink a few for me," Seb said with a smirk. "Fuck cancer, taking my goddamned scotch."
"But extra scotch for me!" Lorna raised her glass with a laugh, then took a big gulp of it, looking extra satisfied for the benefit of Sebastian.
"And me?" Keira tried, and was promptly laughed at by Lorna.
A/N
We might see more of this scene, but considering we never know when we'll be writing, I thought it was better to get a good chunk out than nothing? Let us know what you think! Thanks for your previous comments, we read every single one! If you want to comment directly to Lorna's writer (me?) my email is on my profile!