Signature, 9 o'clock. Don't make things difficult, Landis. Please.

- Dolly

The library closes at 11. Expect me then.

- Landis

It was late at night that Landis stole into the Signature and up to Dolly's suite, still dressed in work clothes beneath his enveloping black cloak. He had come when the library closed and not before; strange to think tonight he'd actually preferred the quiet chaos of pre-exam traffic over where he now was heading.

Still, he'd known it would happen. There was only so long he could put Dolly off. The first owl she'd sent him, the day after he'd been returned to school, he burned without reading. The sudden incendio had panicked the owl, but the ashes gave him the relief of one less thing to worry about. He hadn't had time to field Dolly's questions then, not when he himself was simultaneously trying to reach Dazmond, sniff out information on Kronos, and deal with the patience-sapping heat of Juliette's anger. He discarded her next letter in a similar fashion, dispassionate as he dismissed the owl and then dropped it into the hearth to flare with the still-smoldering logs. The third had been left to sit conspicuously on his coffee table for exactly three days, unopened, at which point Landis decided he still did not want to deal with this and got rid of it.

This was the fourth. This was the one he'd answered. The bulk of each letter had decreased to this, a slender envelope that, when opened, contained only the one piece of paper and her plea. He'd gotten it at 3 that afternoon, answered it with the sense of heavy inevitability when he realised he no longer had any actual reason to delay, and here he was.

Vaguely and unconcernedly wondering if she was going to greet him with a hex when she opened the door, but, here he was.

Yet the frequency of her letters meant it had only been two weeks now. The whole thing smacked of karmic retribution for the hospital visit, as if in visiting her when she was vulnerable he had prompted a balancing turn-about. She would either go mother wolf on him - for keeping from her every drop of information he had about Dazmond and their kidnapping - or she would go mother wolf for him - no doubt seeing her uanswered letters and his break-up with Juliette as signs of deep emotional stress. Landis was betting heavily that their meeting would start with the former and end with the latter; the woman's guilt complex was astoundingly predictable and her pathos disturbingly unneccesary, espeically when directed at him.

So he'd prepared himself for fury and tears, frustration, irritation, and the most thorough interrogation of his life. There was steel in his backbone and resignation in his eyes as he knocked on the door of Dolly's suite.

There was no rhyme or reason with Landis, kindness would be seen as a weakness and so too would concern be construed. The aggravating nature of his inability to even acknowledge her three previous letters was not new to Dolly. She just hated how bloody helpless it made her feel. Dazmond, for her part, was keeping mum other than to say it had all worked itself out and everything was fine. It certainly was not fine if she'd gotten herself mixed up in Nate's Runespoor debacle. She was in someone's pocket with no foreseeable way out; yet she refused to talk about it. She doubted Dominik's conversations with his sister would have gone better - and even if they had she was not willing to ask him for anything. Bloody wanker, locking her in a closet and going for a snog while his sister and her oldest friend were being swept away and possibly murdered.

He was very lucky no one had been murdered or she'd have skinned him alive. Of course now all that irritation had to go somewhere and it manifested itself in her pacing the floor of her suite at Signature. Unlike the million trips before there was no harem of dancing girls, no decadent food, even her alcohol consumption had dwindled to a cut glass tumbler of red current rum. Where most people picked up the drink when their stress levels were high Dolly's dropped off. She needed her head about her tonight; if she were going to get anywhere with him at all. Of course there was Juliette; she would be easier to talk to - or at least make him behave. The redhead seemed to have a calming influence over the eternally bitter librarian.

The knock on her door signaling Landis' arrival came right on time (in so much as it was the last moment she could stand waiting) and Dolly found herself wishing (not for the first time in her life) that Landis Morgan was just a regular man and easy to manipulate. He of course had never really been attracted to the things about her most men were; if you could consider him attracted at all. He hated both her bravado and strangely enough her honesty. It was, really, because she wasn't Daz; there had been a time when no other woman could compare in his eyes - though with Juliette in the picture the author thought that might have been changing a bit (and it was about damn time, Dazmond herself had married ages ago - even if it was to a hairy beast parading about as a man).

For good measure, and also because he had ignored her first letters Dolly let Landis stand outside her door for several moments before finally unlatching and popping it open. He did not look pleased to see her - but then he rarely looked pleased to see anyone. It was amazing the things you ceased to take offense to when you knew a bloke like Landis, "If I didn't know you knew what I'm capable of, I'd almost be shocked you decided to show," her voice was light; but the implication was still the same. If she didn't get what she wanted from him she would make his life miserable - and not with owls; she would publicly humiliate him (in so much as she would visit him at the school). She knew he wanted her as far from Hogwarts as possible; so he'd cooperate (it was one of the few times his being a disagreeable bastard actually worked in her favor).

"You'd hound me until death otherwise," he replied sourly, sidling past her into the room with a scowl. He stood with his back to her for a long moment, taking in the sight of the suite she'd chosen with a weary sort of resentment. Ariabian nights. How utterly inane. Already the bright colors and rich patterns were giving him a headache.

"Besides," he said finally, and turned to face her. "I'm assuming Daz didn't tell you anything, so by now you're half-mad with helplessness and inevitable frustration." It could almost - almost - be construed as thoughtfulness, the way he phrased it, as if he was doing this because Dolly needed and wanted to know. But it could also be construed as only a duty he felt obliged to uphold as the tertiary member of their little friendship, and as a partner in Dolly's fond care of their potions whiz. Or, lastly, it might just be his way of admitting that he was too attached to the internal nature of his entrails to keep willfully putting her off. It was a testament to Landis' twisted sense of loyalty that he could have even meant all three.

But he didn't really fear her retribution, nor her implication of some dark and terrible fate. Increasingly as he moved farther into the criminal underworld, increasingly as he bore the daily patience-sapping actions of four hundred careless kids, Landis found he didn't care much at all. It should have been a worrisome shift in mindset for a man who'd lived his life so carefully, so certain and in control, but he couldn't summon up the energy to worry, much less the motivation to change. Although it was his spotless reputation that had saved him more interest from Kronos, he found himself affected by some strange post-kidnapping lethargy at the thought of continuing on as he did, with one eye forward and the other checking meticulously behind. Not for the first time in his life Landis felt restless, reckless, and discontent.

The last time he'd felt this way he'd been a while out of school, and had taken to wandering the streets of London at night like some disconsolate youth in a piss-poor witches' novel. He'd found Cinaed, and that had given him a purpose.

But Landis was not looking for a purpose this time, and tonight there was only Dolly. He hoped he would not do anything so embarrassing as open up to her, or worse. Just because he felt a bit like he'd been replaced by his twenty year-old self was no reason to act like a five-year-dead fool.

He did feel like he'd come to a crossroads though, spurred by his own exhaustion and the calculating glint in Kronos' greedy eye. It was difficult to keep up the charade of being child-friendly when actually ill-inclined, and it was difficult to maintain relationships when he'd rather stand alone. Landis was naturally self-sufficient, and the effort involved in fearing for Dazmond or missing Juliette was tiring. He resented it with the bitterness of one who still couldn't stop, not even when he tried. It spurred him into knowledge of his inevitable choice. He could sink gladly into the WBA and its duties and out of the public eye, or he could withdraw completely from his criminal activities and give in to the tether of already-tight bonds.

But he wasn't sure he could remain in this neutral limbo for much longer. Being a double agent was unexpectedly draining. Even so inactive, his different sides clashed.

Without waiting for an invitation from Dolly, Landis turned and moved farther in. He spoke as he headed for the sitting area slash study, his voice trailing behind him careless and unraised. "She won't talk to me either, and I was there."

Dolly let the door fall shut behind him without a word. She latched it carefully before turning to face him with a sigh, he had that tone about him - the one that seemed displeased with everything Dolly did, had, or represented; but he also seemed...tired. Landis seemed uncomfortable with anything that denoted an abundance of money - or maybe it was just the flash of it all. Whatever it came down to, Dolly didn't much care as she moved more deeply into the room and picked up her still half full class of rum. She had every intention of being sober but somehow seeing Landis made her want to drink. Dealing with him was such a chore, yet she found herself more relieved than anything that he seemed all together in one piece.

"Well fill the gap in for me at least, Dominik's brilliant idea to throw me in the closet for cover  left me sure we'd be finding bodies when he finally let me out," Dolly did nothing to hide her displeasure or mask the idea that at the heart of it she felt it cowardly. She was not the kind of witch that turned tail and ran from a fight, for all the scoffing she did about womanly virtue - she did believe in honorable things. One had to protect the people they loved with all of themselves - and no matter what his mother might have implied over the years Dolly didn't believe Dominik had tried to protect and love her that night. He was just scared and looking for an excuse. In pained her sometimes to think so little of him - and really whatever he deserved he probably didn't deserve that assumption.

Distractedly she noted that Juliette was not with him - nor was the redhead's signature lingering scent...lingering. When it came to perfumes and potions Juliette was the sort of woman who concocted aromas meant to cling to skin. The night of the kidnapping Dolly could literally smell Jules on him; and while her own love life was in tattered shambles she knew an affair when she saw one. The way the wisp of a man carried himself seemed far more downtrodden and irritable than usual. Also, he was not being a complete and total wanker which meant that something had changed. They were not... kind to one another; and while some would hardly call his lack of snarl a kindness between the two of them it was. The layers of their relationship were complicated at best; but she knew him as well as she knew herself.

Something wasn't right and it wasn't just that Dazmond wouldn't tell him anything either. Nursing her bottom lip she fidgeted with a pack of cigarettes; taking one for herself and extending them to Landis. She tried to hide the tremble in her fingers as she sparked the tip with her wand, "Can you tell me what they wanted with you at least? Or...I don't know,' she tried not to sound annoyingly fretful; lowering herself into a nearby chair, legs tucked daintily together and rum forgotten on the table before her. She was quiet for some time, slowly breathing in and out toxic smoke; unsure of how to voice her deepest concern, "D'you think it had anything to do with Nate? I know Daz deals with the shady shit too but Runespoor... that's Briggs territory".

Dolly wasn't even really sure if what she was asking was fair; she hated Nate sure - but she hated him for the judgment he placed on her and the ways in which he tried to belittle her relationship with Dazmond. Whatever else anyone could or would say about Dolly St. James; when she loved you she loved you forever. She would have died that night to protect anyone in that room, gladly. Very few people gave her credit for being that kind of person; but she was. Underneath all the glitter and preening there was still the heart of the girl who loved so much it hurt - even wankers like Landis. She knew he didn't want her to care but after so many years (even with all the sarcastic barbs she couldn't really help but care - she didn't want him in her every day to day life; but she didn't want him hurt either.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose she sighed deeply and sunk further back into the chair, "I haven't spoken to, you know," she gave him a meaningful look and though she could have been talking about Dominik she meant Cin, "He's back underground so far as I can tell". She didn't sound completely pleased with this notion but she also knew that it wouldn't be safe for him to stay in too close contact with any of them but Daz. Flicking the dying bit of ash from the tip of her cigarette she eyed him carefully before finally asking the question that had been jabbing her in the brain since he showed up not smelling like another woman, "What does Jules have to say about all this? You know without her..." Dolly's voice sort of broke and trailed into nothingness as she thought of the likelihood of Dazmond's dying that night without Juliette's help. She was still torn between being furious with the tiny witch and relieved they'd been able to save her.

She followed him with her omnipresent cup of - what was it this time? - something rich burgandy-brown and undoubtably alcoholic. Landis claimed one of the chairs in the sitting room. This was going to be a long conversation.

"There was a brief fight, and then Malvivicus' men took us. What else?" Landis shrugged. "The next thing I knew we were in some castle with a handful of hired men and an egotistical madman. You didn't miss much." He himself was torn between a curious mix of gratitude and sheer wrathful disbelief at the actions of Dominik Weidman. On one hand, it'd meant Dolly was out of sight and out of mind for the men who'd come to seize them. On the other hand, they could have damn well used her help to fight them off, not to mention Dominik's. What kind of man let someone take his sister! Cowardly, stupid, disloyal - obviously thinking with his prick - and pardoned or not Landis knew Dominik retained some nasty spells from his stint as a Death Eater. At least he could have fired off a few Unforgivables before hiding in a closet! Landis had some very stiff curses for the twit the next time he saw him again.

Dolly offered him a cigarette; Landis gave a brief shake of his head. In the hospital, it had been a welcome respite to have something to do with his hands. Now he'd rather have someone's neck to wring than smoke spiralling down his lungs.

"I was not the primary target; they'd come for Daz. I happened to be there, we two are known to be close - possibly he intended to use me as blackmail for her. My capture would have been incidental except that Malvivicus had pegged me as a potential asset for his adopted brat." Briefly, Landis spared a thought for Schlagenweit. He had not so much as glanced at the boy since being returned, but Kronos would want progress soon. His new job was not one he relished; nor was the thought of having a tertiary "employer" whose hiring practices could best be described as unique. "You've heard of Sasha Schlagenweit? I've been nasty to him in the past, and Malvivicus is protective. I don't know if he was behind Briggs' Runespoor mess; we didn't talk of it and I've no one of whom to inquire." Except Briggs himself, and Landis had not bothered so far. Even if Kronos did have his fingers in that sticky pie, it was doubtful that a bit player like Briggs would know who was at the heart of it.

It was intriguing, though, that Malvivicus had chosen him to take. It revealed much about Kronos' priorities. After all, also in the room had been a powerful and notious criminal, a top athlete, an influential socialite, and a man involved in Runespoor business. Kronos could have collected the Ministry's reward for Cináed, or tried to woo him into a job - if he could manage to capture and keep him to begin with. He would have recieved a hefty ransom for Dominik, could have used Dolly's wide network of contacts, might have even already had Briggs in his employ. Each person there had had their own significance to Dazmond, and the capture of a husband or brother surely would have had better negotiation value than the taking of a close friend.

But no. He'd chosen a librarian, because he couldn't figure Landis out and because said mysterious librarian was in a position to help Kronos' son.

Interesting. And extortable. Landis had not needed another reason to want Schlagenweit dead, but if he could quite neatly arrange the murder through or with the help of his WBA friends - all equally eager for vengence for Mannie - he now knew exactly how deep a blow it would be to the criminal dandy.

Not that Landis would be satisfied with stopping there, but it would make a nice start in making up for Malvivicus' stupid presumption. Just because he didn't have a record was no reason to assume Landis didn't have claws.

"I haven't spoken to, you know..."

"Who?" Landis asked blankly, and then as she clarified. "Oh. Him." Usually when Dolly wouldn't say a man's name, that man was Dominik; but there'd only been one person in the room that night with reason to go back into hiding. Landis entirely intended to speak to Cináed about the whole thing and particularly about Kronos, but for all Dolly knew, that night may have even been Landis and Cináed's first meeting. "If we can't get in contact with him, he's useless for all I care."

Then, much more quickly than he'd expected, Dolly asked about Juliette. It was inevitable, but as always Landis was surprised by her ability to apparently zero in precisely on the things he didn't want to talk about. He was not an easy man to read, and if not for the fact she'd hardly have had time to learn between her books and her bedmates, he'd have wondered again if Dolly was a legilimens.

He gave her a humorless smile, his amusement cutting, his faint disbelief on show. Did she really even have to ask? "It's none of her business."

Dolly watched Landis carefully; there was truth to the old saying you can tell more from what a person refuses to say than what they actually say. It had always been true with Landis; his deepest feelings, ideas, realities were closely guarded. He shared them with no one - probably not even Daz. In a way it made Dolly's heart hurt because he was so alone. In another it frustrated her because she just wanted answers. She wanted to know why and how long it would be before another one of them was snatched up because they'd prove to be useful. Her blue eyes focused on the cherry tip of her cigarette as she recrossed her legs, chewing the underside of her lip, "I could kill him you know. All I could think after they'd taken the both of you was he stopped me from protecting my goddamned best friends," the 's' came without thought - because deep down, really, Landis was one of her best friends.

It was not the sort of friendship, perhaps, either of them wanted - but they were bound together in a completely different way than she had ever been bound to someone before. For the whole of her adolescent life Landis had cared (in his very strange way) - but he was the only man she'd ever known that didn't try to change her. There were things he hated about her; choices he disapproved of, but he accepted that she was who she was. Dom didn't give her that, Elliott didn't give her that, Tappy certainly didn't give her that. The only one who came close was Darian; but for him it was just uncomplicated fucking. He didn't really value her on some deep personal level. They might not have been able to stand one another...but she knew the deepest truth in her life was that as she would have laid her life down to save him; Landis Morgan would have protected her with all of himself - not because he was in love with her; but because their history held them to that moment.

She let her cigarette slowly burn up, biting her thumbnail as he continued to talk. She pondered over his assessment of Cin; but added nothing. For her Tawse represented a connection to a world chalk full of useful men. There was no real telling how far his reach went; a part of her wondered if Cin wasn't already working for Malvivicus and that was why he had been spared. She hated herself for thinking it because deep down she knew he wouldn't willingly let anything happy to Dazmond. They all loved her too much - which is what made all of this so hard. If it had been anyone else Dolly would have washed her hands of the whole mess. She could have turned anyone else away; her anger of the stupid stunt burning up all the possible love she felt. With Dazmond it was decidedly more complicated; the tiny witch was as much a part of Dolly as her own arm.

Raking her fingers through her hair she let out a long sigh at last and shook her head, "Really? He took you because he thinks you bullied he baby? Merlin people are fucked in the head. If every parent of every child you were ever nasty to tried to kidnap you I'd never see you again," she paused, raising her blue eyes to his face, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "though wanker that you are you'd probably like that bit of it". Stubbing out her cigarette she made no move for her drink; other than a few sips before he arrived she was still completely sober. She wanted to be fall down drunk; but she was seeing more and more what a perilous position that left her in so she'd been leaving it alone.  None of his answers were satisfactory; but she also believed he was telling her as much as he could.

The only thing that rang false was his response about Juliette. Dolly's ears couldn't help but perk then. She had no real stake in their relationship - other than that Jules seemed to put Landis more at ease and that was not an easy feat. She wanted him to be happy, really. She wasn't one of those women that had decided because her heart had been broken that no one else should get to fall in love and have their contentment. "Darli-" she caught herself, stopping mid-word before clearing her throat, "Landis, I think it very much became her business when she revived our all but dead best friend from the floor of the Loo. If for no other reason than because we can't have her saying anything to anyone else," she gave him a pointed look. It wasn't that she thought Juliette would; in fact she knew she wouldn't - but when your new lover saved your old lover...well things were bound to get weird, "Just tell me what happened, or I'll owl her myself and you probably won't enjoy the way that goes".

"I wish you would," Landis said, so softly that it seemed more a whispered suggestion than an idle response. He gazed at her with his head slightly bowed, unsmiling, anticipatory, and in his stillness there was deliberate intent. I wish you would - so do it if you can. He would not share his own plans with her; Dolly's unusual mix of weakness and strength was unpredictable, and while she would handle news of WBA vengeance now with vicious delight she might crumple later. Landis could not trust Kronos not to find her weak spot and break it. But Dolly had her own network of contacts, built on different foundations than Landis' own. She might have someone who could - no, not yet. She would only get herself into trouble if she went in without knowing.

"Malvivicus is dangerous," Landis said, knowledge of the man's whimsical nature and his enormous power base paining him with its disparity. "Extremely so. If you're going to go inquiring after him, tread with caution; he has deep pockets and a wide influence."

"Really? He took you because he thinks you bullied he baby? Merlin people are fucked in the head. If every parent of every child you were ever nasty to tried to kidnap you I'd never see you again."

"I know," Landis agreed, with mock solemnity. "Apparently he didn't realise that I'm an arsehole to everyone. Well- " he amended, with the thoughtfulness of one who must have made his displeasure at being kidnapped clear. "He probably knows now."

"Darli-"

Landis gave her an extremely affronted look. Dolly changed course.

"Landis, I think it very much became her business when she revived our all but dead best friend from the floor of the Loo. [...]Just tell me what happened, or I'll owl her myself and you probably won't enjoy the way that goes."

Irritation twisted his pale features into something acerbic and cruel. "You will not," he said sharply. "I don't interfere in your affairs; best stay out of mine, Dolly." He was viciously displeased at the idea of Dolly meddling so, owling his ex-lover, fixing things for him - he had done this deliberately, and she was not going to unravel all his careful plans by tattling to Juliette. "I won't have you undermining my efforts." Not to mention if she did, it still wouldn't change anything. They had not broken things off just because he'd gone missing; it had been a decision on his part to end it for a myraid of reasons, none of which changed by Juliette knowing the truth. If all it was was his absence, he'd already had that nearly forgiven. Juliette had almost believed his excuse - Darian. Darian. Landis had just remembered something Dolly ought to know.

"Actually," he said, and smiled - a rather sickly expression. "This part does concern you. Darian talked. To her." He let that sink in a minute. Landis frankly did not like to think about the kind of relationship his cousin and Dolly had; it was enough that they spoke of each other with disgusting ease, enough to just know them individually, all their personalities and traits. It led to a rather unappealing conclusion. But she did know him, and she was aware he was the only other person who had even an inkling of what had happened between Landis and Dolly. Darian was about as trustworthy as a snake that one saved in the grass, which turned and bit when it could - she'd know that too, but that didn't meant this wasn't unexpected. Even Landis, who'd grown up under the man's insiduous shadow, had felt an ill flicker of surprise at this familial betrayal. Doubtless Darian would not consider it a betrayal. Doubtful Darian thought it was hilarious. Landis remembered giving up a month's worth of wages just a week ago, bargaining with the man to agree to use him as an excuse. He would be getting that money back if Darian did not want to find in ash and ruins his perverted little shop. 

Landis drew a leg up, the heel of his shoe pressing into the edge of his chair cushion, and propped an arm on his knee. The languid line of his wrist and his heavy-lidded eyes spoke only of a tired sort of carelessness, but his tone was distant and cold.

"She confronted me about you and Dazmond in the Great Hall the morning I got back." That would tell Dolly everything she needed to know about exactly what had happened between Landis and Juliette. Attacking Landis in public about Dolly or Dazmond was an unwise move for anyone who wished to keep their lungs. It was like waving a red cape in front of a bull for all the clear-thinking patience he retained when confronted with that. Of course, Dolly did not know what it was that Juliette had said, nor did she know how easily provoked he'd been after three days spent furious and uncertain in Malvivicus' castle. Do you two roleplay it on rainy days? Close your eyes and call her D--" He knew what she had been going to say. Landis' lips curled at the memory, still able to instill him with a deep flush of anger.

Dolly raised a well sculpted eyebrow, her tone vaguely amused, "It's cute that" she nodded her head to the side as he looked on almost quizzical, "the way you think telling me to do something means I might actually listen to you," she reached for her glass then though her eyes never wavered from his face. Landis didn't actually get to boss her around; despite whatever he might have thought. The real problem between them was there was no power to struggle over so they invented them. She wasn't scared of him and he wasn't scared of her; and the one thing they had on one another they both wanted kept secret. He wanted to stay out of the books and she didn't want Dazmond to know they'd slept together. In the end, the reality of the situation was a simple lack of leverage for either party. It did annoy her, vaguely, that he would use his bossy librarian tone on her; but only vaguely.

Of course there were now third and fourth parties involved in this little squabble. She almost choked on her Rum when Landis told her, hand pressed to her chest as she gasp for a breath. That dirty rotten sneak, her mind traversed half a dozen ways to socially ruin Darian and his clothing line in a matter of second. Denouncing him and pulling her patronage of the line wouldn't be enough - it might make a dent but it wouldn't serve a dire blow. Setting the tumbler down roughly she moved for another cigarette though she didn't light it straight away. It was more about needing something to distract her, the feel of it's weight between her fingers. She thought better that way. The air was thick with her ill ease as she nursed her thumbnail. Of all the things to blab, didn't Darian have better dirt on Landis than their shagging? It was so long ago that neither of them acknowledged it had even happened anymore.

It was like a hazy Poppy dream; real but not - so distant it was a faint outline in the deepest recesses of her life. Juliette couldn't possibly think there was still something between the two of them; anyone who had spent five minutes with the pair would never believe they had been capable of less than doing one another bodily harm (lest the situation be dire). Of course Juliette also had a temper...and Dolly felt a flair for the dramatics. Merlin she wanted to cut out Darian's tongue, the blabbing bastard. Of course dealing with him presented much the same problem trying to scare Landis into line did; there was nothing to Lord over either of them. Darian was too blase about life in general - which was the exact reason he was trying to stir the pot now. She really hated him sometimes; really, almost as much as she could hate Dominik (and anyone who had ever seen her truly enraged with Dominik might have quivered a little at the thought).

Somehow in all the thinking she was back on her feet and pacing, unlit cigarette tapping her bottom lip as lines etched themselves into her forehead. "Landis you have to fix things with her. I don't give a bloody fuck about your pride - we have to keep her quiet," it sounded much harsher than she meant for it to. Rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand she took a deep breath and tried to unkink the  knot that had formed in her stomach, "You don't want Dazmond to know anymore than I do and by now you ought to be perfectly aware of just how spiteful beautiful women can be when they feel threatened - and before you even open your mouth of course she felt threatened. It's Dazmond we're talking about. If Darian told her about us he sure as shit wasn't going to keep quiet about how she was your first love and you spent years cow-eyed after her," she spoke quickly and matter-of-factly, "I swear on all that is holy, Landis, if you don't take care of it I will". 

Landis looked annoyed. Considering how his expression had already been approaching something so similar and undignified as a scowl, this must have been quite a feat. It was nice how he took such special effort for her.

"Fine," he said, voice lowering to a vicious purr. "Do as you like. I really couldn't give a damn whether you get in over your head or not. I'm sure it will do our darling Daz much good to know another of her friends has fallen into Malvivicus' hands. Perhaps you too can be blackmailed! Won't that be fun?"

It was true that when he was younger he had taken a special mind to... look after her. By the time their tumultuous little affair had ended, he was doing exactly the opposite of that. Now after the years and both extremes the advice he offered her was as practical and dispassionate as that he'd give a stranger. It was up to her whether she took it or not.

That was what he was going to tell himself, anyways. And he couldn't help it if his practical and dispassionate approach fell through when confronted with her sheer stupidity. Anyone would get titchy if they had to deal with Dolores St. James.

Dolly's reaction was satisfactory for what he'd just imparted. If the way her expression darkened was any indication, Darian would have a furious socialite on his tail and out for blood. As long as she left enough of him to carry the line, Landis coudn't say he was the slightest bit sorry. Although that restriction would be disappointing for Dolly, who tended to go for the most painful parts first.

He was still thinking that her furious pacing was due to Darian when she spoke.

"Landis you have to fix things with her. I don't give a bloody fuck about your pride - we have to keep her quiet."

Landis was surprised. In any other situation - if this was directed towards anyone else's affairs - he'd be pleasantly so. It was not like her to be this hard. But he did not care for her demand, nor for her hypocrisy - it was a bit rich, wasn't it, hearing this from her. As if she had the right or the knowledge to tell him to fix things with Juliette.

"So ruthless," he murmured, the softness of his voice undercut with unmistakable scorn. He kept his eyes lowered to the rug and his face was smooth, but gradually as he spoke something in his expression quickened, and emotion flared - anger. "How unusual for you, Dolly. You have exceeded my expectations in coming here; never would I have imagined you to be so cutthroat in another's relationship given the importance you place upon your own. In an ex-lover's, even, and a - hm, are we friends? And to top your demands with threats... " He gave her a slow smile. "What a specimen of woman you have become!  Listen, then. I will appeal to your newly businesslike nature, to your cunning, and your mind. It would take more than a swallowing of my pride for this to work. If I did fix things with her according to your demand for silence, it might only last until next we quarreled. How long would you have me do it? Would you have me marry the woman to keep her quiet? We would raise a little family, and I could buy her off by pretending to love each whelp that I sired? Don't be a fool. Attempting to fix things with her is short-sighted and we can't depend on it. She won't tell Dazmond. Of that I am relatively certain. And if I am wrong and she intends to, there's nothing either of us could do to stop it."

Juliette did seem a vindictive woman. Her anger was quick and fierce, her little acts of retribution against him both petty and plentiful. But he could not say it seemed as though she was behaving just to spite him; instead even for the irritation she seemed to be trying to provoke him. Trying to... get his attention.  If he was wrong in this assumption, then he would just have to pay the price.

He finished in a slightly calmer tone. "We would crucify Darian and then we would move on." But he did not speak of Dazmond's reaction, nor of what he and Dolly - quite separately, it was implied even in things unsaid - would move onto.

Dolly looked at him carefully; wishing silently she had chosen different words. She did not want him to just fix things with Juliette to keep her quiet; that had been her gut response of course. There was not a lot Dolly wouldn't give to keep this dirty little secret good and buried; but it was more than that. He wouldn't believe her if she tried to explain that now, but it was true. Chewing on her bottom lip she eyed him carefully; their former squabbles playing through her head a million times over in the seconds that passed. She was not so hard, so skilled at masking her emotion that one could deny the sad worry that crept over her features. The problem, really, with she and Landis was they actually cared about one another's well being - but they both felt caring at all for the other made them weak. Dolly had formed this theory sometime after their parting of ways when all that was left between them was the bitter venom they spat back and forth.

She wanted him to be happy; but she could see that he was dead set on being a miserable Son of a Witch; she'd have bet Galleons to Gin & Tonics that he assumed the same about her given her refusal to give up on the eldest Wiedman. They frustrated one another and at some point the frustration had become a sort of bitter battle to belittle one another as much as humanly possible. Neither one ever wanted to give an inch, to admit that there was still some form of care between them. Only in the last few months things had begun shifting in Dolly. She was tired of treating people like she didn't care when she quite obviously did; the problem was caring made Landis Morgan squirm with discomfort. And while making him squirm was a delightful pastime it was not how she wanted to spend the evening. Raking her fingers through raven tresses she infringed not on his space (as she would have most men) but sat equal across from him, "You're right. I'm sorry".

The words hung between them, literally painful for her to say. She waited for him to pounce upon them and denounce her weakness. They never apologized to one another; they just moved from one thing to the next never acknowledging when they might have scuffed one another's feelings. It was an unspoken agreement that she had just broken in favor of trying to tell him something very truthful. Of  course telling the surly librarian anything at all felt like pulling her teeth out one by one while fully conscious. Tossing the unlit cigarette onto the table between them she clasp her hands together, eyeing him carefully, "I know... that I am the last person you want to hear anything from; ever - but especially right now," she at least had the grace to look mildly ashamed of herself, "Whatever you want to believe about me, I gave up trying to change your life along time ago; but I do know you Landis, I always have - in the exact way you know me because we were in that most broken moment together," her voice grew to almost a whisper before she had to look away.

It was true though, they knew one another in a way that no one else ever could because they had seen the scars; they lived through it together. It was not a romantic love; but it was a binding of the heart that you could not escape no matter how long you lived. In that time, in being so broken together... the only thing Dolly had ever really wanted was for him to be happy; some kind of happy. She wanted him to not be trapped by the damage that loving a Wiedman could inflict upon your person. Chewing her bottom lip, her blue eyes were painfully earnest and she knew he would hate it but she couldn't stand the accusation that she wanted him to do this simply to cover her own ass, "That night - before everything went to shit..." she shook her head and took a deep breath, "Landis I saw the way she looked at you - but more than that... I saw you; this ghost of the boy I used to know - and it isn't my business and you hate that I saw it; but I did". Twisting the ring on her finger she gave him a helpless shrug, "You were happy; for just that moment I could see it and you deserve that Landis. You deserve to be with someone who loves you enough to be jealous; to be scared of losing you - even if the threat is imagined from a million years ago". 

Oh, for Merlin's sake. Couldn't a man even be properly scathing anymore? In one quick move Dolly'd taken all his viciousness out of commission with an off-putting apology and an expected trip down memory lane. Now if he didn't curb his acerbic tongue while she talked lovingly of the Landis-that-was he'd look a right bastard.

Not that that'd ever stopped him before. The Landis-who-was had also been the Landis who threw her into furniture, although Dolly seemed to have selective amnesia when it came to that part of their shared past. Frankly he was just glad they were at a point where she needed neither the sympathetic ear nor the punishing hand; they could have settled into neutrality, maybe, except it always came back to this.

Dolly wouldn't settle for neutrality. Dolly wanted to fix everything. She wanted the boy back, when his teenage years had been the worst of Landis' life and he'd rather forget they happened altogether. Her insistence on dwelling in the past would have made him wonder if there'd been nothing in her later years to make life worth the living, if Landis didn't already know. She wanted to go back to when she wasn't famous and the people she loved loved her back not for her fame but for herself. She wanted to go back to Hogwarts where she'd been surrounded by a strong support system, and where the next ten years with Dominik had seemed full of possibility rather than the actual pain and frustration. Landis knew, and he wished he didn't. It was so sad, living in the past. They'd both loved a Weidman, but he was the only one who'd gotten out of it intact. It bound him to her in a way he didn't like; she the weak one, he the strong.

Yet neither of them was happy.

Growing up wasn't a process you could reverse. Time did not retract at your choosing to a happier place. Connections that were once strong could be twisted, and a stilted attempt at a heart-to-heart was no better than magic at restoring them. The man was a bit more complicated than the inexperienced, transparent teen.

And he did not have any patience left for her dramatics. Becoming older, becoming an adult, was not something in which anyone had a choice. It was a terrible thing to regret because, unlike decisions, there was no avoiding it. Dolly could tell him she liked what she'd seen of that "boy she knew," but what would she be telling him 20 years from now? 50? When both their hair was white, would she say she'd liked him better as a middle-aged man? It was just nostalgia. Near-mortality did that to people. Landis had realized the connection between her recent series of world-shaking occurrences and her persistent earnestness with him.

To be fair, he was the one who'd just fed her the line - the vicious little "are we friends?" that he hadn't intended her to answer. And now she'd turned it on him, she'd let his attempts to shame work - ah, she was shrewd. She knew he hated that look, this topic, that it made him uncomfortable to see such bittersweet concern turned on him.

In fact, he rather hated it. It made him feel... beholden. Which he was, fine, because Landis had not yet weaned out the weakness of attachment, but couldn't they just pretend? And would she give up on reminding him they'd once been broken together! It was like every time he saw her she had to remind him that he was weak. Not to mention anyone referring to a person as "broken" read too many terrible novels - or wrote them. It put Landis' teeth on edge. All he'd have to do was say torturedly that the boy he'd been was dead and they'd be fit for a housewitches' soap opera. Perhaps he could shed a single tear for lost and tragic youth, one which would glimmer artfully on his fire-lit cheek. Viewers loved that.

He didn't know what to say. There were too many comments just waiting to be loosed. Frustration, scorn, weary resignation. It was too late for anger, she'd already AK'd that in the back of the head. Without something to spend itself on, his anger ran itself out. Mostly he very much wanted to put his head down on the table and perhaps hit it a bit until Dolly went away or stopped forcing upon him her feelings.

So he did the next best thing, since putting his head down on the coffee table would have required an undignified sliding to his knees. He leaned his head back against the chair, eyes closed and mouth drawn as if with the most unimaginable headache. One hand dragged down his face and muffled his voice, half-exasperated, half-despairing:  "Dolly, won't you just bloody well give it up? For fuck's sake, stop reminding me that you know me, that we have this deep connection; I'm aware." A pause, as he breathed and chose his words. The hand in front of his face did not move. "I don't care what you think I looked like, or your reasons for wanting it, I can't get back together with her. I won't. And this is not important, why are we even talking about with whom I share my bed when we've the matter of Malvivicus and Dazmond to discuss? She won't tell Dazmond about us. I won't tell her about the kidnapping. Done. Let's move on."

They were never going to get anywhere with one another. They had this big pink elephant anchoring them down but fundamentally they held different life values. Dolly wanted to preserve the few relationships she knew she could have faith in and Landis viewed all relationships as a kind of weakness. He wanted things like power and the ability to forget large chunks of the past. She didn't blame him; she'd had the luxury of becoming a blackout drunk at one point. It wasn't as if her childhood pre-Hogwarts was exactly brimming with joy. If she could have read his mind she'd have corrected a half dozen of his assumptions; but unlike his sneaking suspicions she was not a mind reader and therefor could not tell him how utterly full of judgmental shit he was.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose she took a deep breath before downing the entirety of her glass and getting up to find something stronger. So much for staying sober while dealing with Landis; she should have known that would prove impossible. Rumaging through the bar she found an unopened bottle of Ogdens and grabbed to fresh glasses. She tried not to think of the last time they had resorted to Firewhiskey in hopes of 'talking'. That night would not be repeating itself, ever. Sitting across from him again she poured two shots and slid one toward the grumpy librarian, "You're full of shit but I don't even care at this point. You being miserable and alone for the rest of your life is not my main concern at this juncture," alright so that was probably a lie; but she felt more and more lately like Landis just didn't want or maybe even know how to be content. He was worse than a former Witch Weekly model who lost her looks and started collecting cats.

Downing her own shot in one fell swoop she slammed the glass on the table before doubling down and looking the haughty blonde directly in the eye, "She isn't herself; Daz - not Jules. She's brewing constantly; and normally that'd be a good sign. Work has always made her more centered but her heart isn't in it. It feels like I'm talking to a complete stranger not the witch I've known my entire life. What did he do to her; I mean what's he got on her to have her so deep in his pocket? What's he got on you that you're actually going to be nice to his bratty rugrat"? Obviously the whiskey was loosening her jaw and demolishing her desire to believe Landis would have already told her if he knew something worth sharing. Drunk Dolly (who had dealt with him more frequently) knew that he was the sort of person who didn't believe omissions were lies. Slippery Landis, thinking he could fool her, "And for the record; just because you don't know you're in love with Juliette doesn't mean you're not".

Eyes still closed, he heard her sigh. Then came the faint rustling of cloth, and Landis peeked beneath one careful lid to see her retreating. To his pleasant surprise, she seemed to be giving up as he'd asked. Not without a final quip, of course, but some things were only to be expected.

And, thank Merlin, she brought back tolerance in the form of firewhiskey. Landis copied her, snagging the shot with some relief, throwing it back, and then setting the glass down. So much for his post-kidnapping wariness of drinking's lack of control. If he'd learned anything over the years, it was that dealing with Dolly was easier through a filter of mellowing booze. There was a reason so much of their time together had been spent in varying stages of drunkenness.

"My affairs should never be your main concern at any juncture," he told her coolly, all traces of despairing exasperation vanished from his voice. Like her, he was perfectly willing to move past their little display of heartfelt confessions and endless frustration, and discuss something which was safer and more important to both of them - Dazmond.

As he listened, his expression turned stony. For once, his narrow-eyed grimness wasn't directed at her.

"I don't know for certain," he said, when Dolly was done. "Malvivicus kept us separated most of the time - I only saw her at some of the meals. Towards me he was quite humane. I was treated as a guest, not a captive, albeit one kept behind locked doors. But Dazmond -  " He exhaled, and leaned back in his chair. One hand came up uncertainly and curled in midair, an absent gesture that betrayed more of his thoughts than his face did. "For me, it was first blackmail, then threats, then bribery, each as the previous one failed. My employment was simply a matter of being safer in his pocket than out. The fact that he already had me there, that he held Dazmond captive too... that he could pick up any of us as he wishes at any time... agreeing to work for him was the quickest and easiest way to get out. But Dazmond has a history, and she has plenty of loved ones to threaten. She had already escaped him once; she was the primary target in this kidnapping. And she was frightened of him before. You know how Daz is - he wormed underneath her surface bravado. She must be terrified now. She wouldn't talk about herself when they brought us back, but she kept... flinching."

If blackmail and threads had failed on Landis, it wasn't because Kronos hadn't tried. The reasons Landis gave for his employment meant Kronos didn't have anything on him, nothing concrete. But that Dazmond hadn't been so lucky, she had more weaknesses to exploit, and that something - mind or body, by words or spell - had been dealt a blow. These things were unspoken, but clear.

And Dazmond wouldn't talk to him. Landis was aware of the hypocrisy in his anger about that, especially as Dolly had just nearly gotten her head bitten off for trying to make him confess, and they too were in some strange way friends. Despite his refusal and his fury and his scorn, if anyone was allowed to pry in his affairs it should be her. But he felt he was allowed this demand, considering Dazmond's close-mouthed nature had landed him not literally and wasn't he grateful in the lap of a crime lord. It was one thing for her to stay silent towards her other friends, but he had bloody well been kidnapped along side of her. He'd been so furious he'd paced and was like to tear his hair out, out of worry for her. And for her part she'd told no one the first time it'd happened, had drank an unknown and incredibly dangerous potion, nearly died of the resulting poisoning, had manipulated his and everyone else's care, and had led Kronos to them. If he found out she'd encouraged him to bring Juliette not out of friendly feeling but as a preplanned precaution, he was going to be even angrier. And then she'd gotten him kidnapped. The fact that he'd much rather have been taken with her than left behind had absolutely no consideration in his reasoning. After all that, the least she could do was tell him what'd happened.

"And for the record; just because you don't know you're in love with Juliette doesn't mean you're not."

Startled out of his thoughts, Landis gave Dolly a single chilly look and then promptly ignored the comment. There were more important things than her irritating pronouncements at hand, and he couldn't be bothered to quibble about how she could possibly know his feelings better than he. Not to mention the fact that she'd only seen them together once, nor that - no, no. He couldn't be bothered. Right.

"Merlin she's a selfish bitch," Dolly muttered, not so much under her breath. It was not like her to ever criticize Dazmond; not out loud anyway. The divine Miss St. James had made too many of her own mistakes to go pointing the finger at anyone else (except maybe Dominik, and possibly Landis sometimes). The part that made her angriest was not that Dazmond hadn't been forthright with them when she had come home the first time; Dolly believed that Daz truly had no idea what had happened to her. It was her refusal to open up as the information presented itself; that she kept them high and dry. It was not only that she could have died that night ingesting that damned potion... it was that every single one of them would have gladly died to protect her - and she knew it, she took advantage of it. It was a kind of betrayal that Dolly had struggled to make peace with since Dazmond's return.

It was only because the other woman was so unlike herself that Dolly had not lashed out with her skilled and vicious words. The delicacy which Dazmond tried not to show but Dolly felt down to her bones was all that had kept the middle Wiedman from a tongue lashing for the ages. Pouring herself another shot she settled back in her chair, glossy eyes focused on some hazy middle distance; "Which of us do you think it next? Cin's in hiding but he'll be out for blood. Daz is his darling little Poppet he won't let it stand," she was chewing her bottom lip running a finger tip over the smooth glass in her hand, "I don't know what use Dom or I would have, other than to keep her in line..." her mind was trying to process everything at once.

She felt so utterly helpless - and not because she was worried about protecting herself. Chewing her bottom lip her eyes finally focused on him, "You're sure Jules is safe? What about Laney? If he's been watching her for as long as she implied... oh Gods, what about Aliec and Dianora, or Livi"? The thought of Dazmond's parents brought a sense of panic to her gut that almost caused her to revisit the contents of her stomach (four shots of whiskey and some rum). It was the idea of Liviana that worried her most of all though; every other person in Dazmond's life would have the power to fight back to some degree - getting between a Wiedman and their family was foolish at best; but Liviana was only fifteen. She was a child (never mind what Daz and Dolly were getting up to at fifteen, Liv was a child). Rubbing the bridge of her nose she shook her head, "Do we just sit and wait now, for the next one of us to be picked off"?

"Merlin she's a selfish bitch."

Landis' eyes flickered with something unreadable. After a second he sighed, leaned forward, and poured himself another glass of whiskey. "Yes. She is." Dazmond wouldn't see it that way. He wouldn't have thought to put a label on it. "Presumably she though there'd be no other way." Landis could see why Dazmond had spun things out that night the way that she had - tempting them all with a little information, just enough to get them worried, before excusing herseld for the poison - he just didn't like it. But if she'd drawn the vial out to drink in front of them, Landis would have grabbed the thing right out of her hand. If not him, anyone else. They never would have let her drink it if they'd known that was what she'd meant to do.

The second glass of whiskey went down as smoothly as the first. Landis rolled the now-empty glass in his hands, its cool touch a counterpoint to the warmth curling in his throat and the heat rising behind his eyes.

"I don't think anyone is next," he said. "Not unless she - we - disobey. Malvivicus has such a penchant for kidnapping, no? But he won't be able to keep doing this."

Dolly brought up the issue of protection, something which Landis had been thinking very deeply about for a good several weeks now. He shook his head, and carefully replaced his glass.

"Now that I've broken with her, Juliette should be fine. If Laney keeps her head down she's not as close, nor is she family - she'll probably be all right." But the question of Dazmond's parents and sister went unanswered except in the grim line of his mouth, until: "I suppose it depends," he said slowly. "On how well Dazmond fulfills her orders."

He knew them all, each one, as well as Dolly did. The Wiedman family was a warm one, and its reach was wide. Granted, his affections were not so easilygiven as Dolly's, so with all she was probably closer. But he had suffered Dianora's attention eith more grace than he had his own mother's, and Liviana had taught him how to bear sticky girlchild affection when Hannah came along. And Aliec was a good man, even if Landis hadn't seen him in years.

A good family, in a day when many of them weren't. He did not near any of them as much love as he did Dazmond, but nor did he want to see them suffer. They were acceptable losses, but he'd prefer they lived.