Dirty Break (18+)

In Which Things Get Interesting

Lydia had been ready for some time when the knock came at the door. That was always the part she hated most about a night out; she treated getting ready like it was a hurdle to overcome whilst for her friends it might have been the main event. It was particularly difficult when the event you were waiting for wasn't a night out with the girls but a meeting involving you and an unknown quantity of criminals. That being the case, she jumped up at the knock and brushed herself down as though she'd had the time or means with which to get dirty since the last time she had given herself a long look-over in the mirror.

"Come in."

There was a pause before the handle turned, the door swinging open to admit the person behind it, which gave her some pre-warning that the person who had come to collect her was neither Leon or Conor, and she didn't think Malcom would have knocked, never mind waited for her permission. So she wasn't surprised at all - although she couldn't pretend she wasn't a bit annoyed to see that it was the butler who was waiting outside for her with his arms clasped behind his back and an expression on his face that made it obvious he had seen everything ten times over and he wasn't going to take even the slightest bit of her shit.

"Yes?"

"I've come to escort you to the meeting. I trust you're ready?"

His dour, unimpressed expression was almost enough to endear him to her; she was sick of being looked over as though she were an oddity, or simply an object of desire or, in the case of Malcolm, a problem that needed solving swiftly. The fact that he'd had to ask her if she was ready when she was goddamn red-carpet ready wasn't as endearing.

"Yep, ready as I'll ever be, anyway." She smiled at him, shrugging when he remained impassive. It was in her nature to be friendly, but under the circumstances she had bigger fish to fry than the hired help disapproving of her. She felt naked without a bag, even going so far as to cast an eye around the room in case she'd overlooked one that had been brought for her - but then what would she need a bag for her? She'd lost her phone, most of her dignity and her freedom - and she didn't think she'd be getting asked for I.D at this particular gathering.

"Do come on, Miss Granger - the meeting is about to start."

Feeling like a reprimanded child she stepped out into the hallway and followed him, trotting to keep up with his long steps as he lead her. He wasn't a spring chicken but something sure kept him fit as they walked what must have been the length of the house. She refrained from speaking as long as she could, not least because she was pretty convinced he wouldn't answer her, but she wasn't naturally quiet and there was no harm in trying, was there?

"Will Leon and Conor be at this meeting?" she asked, coughing to cover up the fact that her voice trembled towards the end. She didn't like either of them, but it was proof that Stockholm syndrome was a real thing that she felt she would be somehow safer if her captors were there - or possibly proof of how well Malcom O'Grady pulled off the total psychopath expression.

"I couldn't possibly say, Miss. It's my job to follow orders and hear as little as possible. Here we are."

She thought that she could hear the buzzing of voices from behind the oak panelled door that they had stopped next to, but there was a buzzing in her ears that made it difficult to tell.

"Can I ...can I have a minute?" she gasped, wondering for approximately the hundredth time how the fuck she'd ended up in this situation and who she'd pissed off in her last life to cause it.

"I really haven't got the time to stand around waiting for you to sort yourself out, Miss."

Of course he was going to say no, what was she thinking? She was sick of showing weakness in front of these people, sick of them always having the fucking advantage. So before she could change her mind and in an attempt to ignore the sneer that fucking Pennyworth was aiming at her, she reached out to open the door herself ... only to be stopped by a hand on her arm. For a second she thought that she was going to get the telling off of her life by the annoyed butler, but as she turned she saw someone far more welcome.