undergrounds | upon the hill he'll hear my secrets -- open post for october

She was a free witch, baby, and it was all thanks to Lancelot du Lac. As such, Nancy had taken over Eames' old flat in Canary Warf, the one she was slowly now outfitting for business. She still wasn't sure about the status of her former Enfield flat, and it wasn't right to invite a Guardian to Cooper's home. That was stupid, even she knew that. And while she trusted Lance with her life now, she couldn't so easily say the same about Cooper and Lance.

So here she was, working on a glass of gin while she cooked, the entire apartment smelling like garlic and cheese. A lasagna was in the oven, and bread was on the small table, waiting for Lance to arrive. She wanted to thank him properly for giving her a second chance at life, a clean record.

And for his sake, she'd do her best to avoid getting any blemishes on that record. But that didn't mean she would stop.

When Lance arrives, she greats him with a warm hug, practically throwing herself at him in thanks. "You made it!"

He laughs brightly as she hurls herself at him, letting his arms loop around her in turn -- as much to keep her steady as anything else.

"I did!" he confirms, "of course. Normally I'm the one cooking for everyone else. I could hardly resist the offer for someone to do it in turn! It smells good, too."

Gently releasing her he puts some space between them, waiting to be waved in and told where to put himself.

"If there's anything I can help with, please -- don't let me be idle."

Lancelot does like to fuss, after all. He isn't used to being fussed over when it comes to food.

"Thank you!" She gushes, settling back down on both feet. She waved him in. "Here- pour yourself a glass, then." She waves towards where she's got glasses set on the counter.

"Yeah- had to learn to cook early." Between the boys and then Bill, there were a million reasons to learn how to cook. So she did, and now that she had been living on her own, and again with Cooper, it was a good skill to have. "So now you can enjoy the benefits of it." She smiles.

"I hope you don't mind Italian. I think I've made enough you'll be able to take some home with you, too." she didn't actually know what his cooking skills were, so for all she knew, a thirty-something community officer bachelor probably defrosted a lot of things in his microwave.

"Italian is good! Don't underestimate how much I can eat, though."

He grins playfully and shoves his hands into his pockets as he ambles in, pauses by the counter and glances at the glass before pouring himself a small amount to drink. He'll probably nurse it the whole night, he doesn't drink too often so he doesn't want to risk getting horrifically drunk.

"This is a nice place."

She gives him a look. "I grew up with a bunch of boys. We'll see." But she's all playful about it.

While Lance doesn't drink much, Nancy will certainly drink all of the wine and then some. Oh well. More for her.

"Thank you- it's not mine, per-say." she still had to figure out what to do about her Enfield flat, but that came when she had time to sit down and talk with Cooper about it. "I didn't really want to impose on my boyfriend tonight, so I thought this was best." He was still irritated she'd gone to the Night Council without letting him know ("What if you'd been exiled!").

"This is essentially my new office."

It isn't hers per-say? Lancelot tilts his head at that, turning over options (a friend's? A rental? Something else?) before deciding that, all things considered, it might be better he simply doesn't ask.

"Well, it makes a nice office -- and I have no problem keeping you to myself."

He smiles teasingly, taking a smile sip of his drink and stepping over to investigate what she's cooking.

"There is one thing we should talk about, though." Tilting his head at her a little Lancelot hesitates, knowing it isn't a pleasant topic. "The Night Council asked me to investigate Fagin. I don't want to... cause a problem for you, but I can't ignore the request."

Nancy stiffens, her knuckles white on her wine glass. "No," she says quietly. "You can't." Ignoring the Night Council's requests was bad news bears, especially now that Lance had gone so far out on a limb for her. She couldn't tell him not to, and by all means, the old devil deserved to rot in hell for all he'd done.

But there were so many others at risk, here.

"It's not me I'd be worried about." Her tone is even, if not quiet. She busies herself at the sink, not looking at Lance. She has her brothers to think about.

"Then who?" he pushes, not moving any closer to her. Letting her have space to breathe in the heavy discussion. "I don't want to upset a boat and capsize the wrong people, Nancy, the more you can tell me the more careful I can be. I know it isn't... something you want to remember, but if there are people in trouble at least let me make sure I don't drown them alongside him."

That isn't what he wants to do at all. Sylvia might prefer to burn an entire building to get to one person if she has to, but he wouldn't.

Nancy presses her lips together, doesn't look at him. For the boys, she tells herself. Tell Lance, he'll keep them safe, just like he's done for her. She could trust him, he'd proven that.

She takes a drink.

"My brothers." They were as close to related to her as anyone else. She spent her entire life caring for them, as the older ones had cared for her. It was a cycle, to those of them that survived, that managed to keep out of jail. A few of them managed to break away. But not many.

Brothers. He frowns a little, circling his drink as he studies her.

"They still work with him? Or live with him?"

Or both, he supposes. If Fagin has enough control over their lives it makes it impossible to escape, and sometimes that's how abusers work. They take control of each part of it until you're dependant on them for everything.

Edited 2016-10-19 14:38 (UTC)

Lance has already guessed it, and she hangs her head.

"Both of 'em." He was an abusive bastard, grooming these children, using them and keeping them in near-squalor. Nancy barely got out, and even now she wasn't fully gone from this man. Most of her money still went to the boys.

"They're good- genuinely good lads." Don't hurt them, don't ruin their lives.

"I can't help," he prompts, "if you don't talk to me about this. I don't want to get anyone hurt Nancy, but if I'm going to be looking into this and you think it'll put them in danger you need to help me. They won't trust me, I know that. But they trust you."

She closes her eyes, pressing her lips together again.

"Alright. They live and work with him. They're mostly orphans and runaways- but most of them are like us. Few of 'em are cursed." An accidental pack. "They don't know any better."

It's about what he expected for an answer. He nods, frowning slightly in thought.

"Do you think they'd talk to me?"

If it would be safe for them to. He supposes it might not be, depending on how closely Fagin watches them.

Her life is exceptionally messy, Lance. And this is the part she tries to keep from most people. It's uncharted territory. All the same she knows the answer to his question right away.

"No." He's an outsider, someone they don't trust. Someone they don't know. "They love him, we all did." Her love had festered, grown into hate slowly over time. "They know if they say anything he'll hurt them. They want his approval more'n anything."

Which is exactly what he feared, but at least that means it isn't a surprise.

"If they won't talk to me," Lancelot begins carefully, "would you talk to them for me? I understand they'll want to protect him, but if anyone can get through to him it would be you not me."

Nancy takes her time responding, looking at the floor. They loved her more than the bastard, she wanted to say. But she didn't feed or clothe them. She didn't rescue them from whatever has happened to them.

but she could.

She presses her lips together.

"I can't promise anything. But I'll try." If they could do something about this man, she wanted to do it. "Them hating me is a small price to pay, if I can save them."

upon the hill he'll hear my secrets -- open post for october

Early October, Lance

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