0300 hours, Penthouse Flat


Ira Almasy dropped a cold, brown paper package on to the countertop of her marble white kitchen. A small chandelier hovering above the cooking island cast an orange glow in the space and gave the pale witch the curious effect of manifesting in sepia tones. The smudge of blood on her chin ruined the effect.

            "What did you take?" Jebediah Layton [1] appeared out of nowhere as he often did, picking up the package with both hands. He tested the weight and frowned, fingers flexing. In his plainclothes, he looked like an off-hours butcher.

She pulled off her navy coat to reveal an even darker ensemble beneath - tight, figure fitting clothes that highlighted the sharp lines of Ira's shape. If any red had gotten on, you wouldn't be able to tell.

"Liver, heart..." a grimace as she threw down the coat impassively. Layton set down the package, drew his wand to fetch a tall glass and an unlabelled bottle of vodka from the lower cupboards. "Pound of flesh from his side, of course."

Her assistant poured the drink. Ira nimbly pulled herself up on to the counter with one arm and accepted this with her other.

"Bit of fat," she finished before quickly downing the entire contents.
            "His son? You made him watch?"
"Passed out. Young, not much of a stomach to begin with."

She held out the glass and Layton refilled obediently, impossibly steady eyes on his Russian master. The kitchen - oft unused - would soon be busy with preparations for a formal dinner party later that month. He nodded at her explanation and briefly thought of what dishes they would be able to prepare. Emilian Zamperia had better taste good.

"Shoes," a catty shake of the ankle.

He dropped to a knee and began to slowly unlace her knee high boots: by hand. That was how she preferred it. Layton acquiesced his stolid head a little lower, using his teeth to undo a particularly tight knot. Ira took her second drink with more patience while she watched him with glazed eyes.

"You cannot be here when they are," she mused and licked her lips pensively. "No reason to offer Zamperia two targets."
             "If that pleases you."
"Does it please you? Or are you going to let this one just run off by the front door as well?"[2]

Layton looked up at her with a ghost of a smile. He pulled off one boot and then the other, revealing smooth, ivory skin - almost as white as the floor. "I wanted to see what she would do." His gaze dropped down. The wizard lifted one of her legs to his mouth.

With something between hunger and reverence, he kissed the top of her foot.

1.	Ira's notorious personal assistant
2.	Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will be Done - Feb 17th