#if someone tracks down the reference i will fling myself off a bridge

[ssspringroll]

i think its done. so i have to stop procrastinating and get to the rest of the place now. oh boy

[theasteriae-arc]

THE INTERVIEW. 

( or, when sebastian met katherine. the discord thread between @epiitaphs & myself, feat. our muses squabbling over @diabolicaltendencies’ jim ) 

WHITEHALL, c. 2009. 

Her heels make an impressive racket on the tiles, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the corridor like there’s an army of interrogators on their way to sink their teeth into him. Sebastian Moran. The slick haired, sharp tongued politician she had never liked—not even before she’d found out Jim was screwing him. It was just a shame that the thick carpet in his secretary’s office—in his office—muffled the quick ratatat of those stilettos. Her war cry. “No. Excuse me, madam, you can’t- Have you got an appointment? You can’t go in there without an appointment.” Kate ignored her and opened the door to Sebastian’s office. “My name is Katherine Conway,” she said crisply to the man behind the desk. “You’ll want to see me.” And without waiting to be invited, she took a seat across from him, putting her handbag down, and folding her hands expectantly in her lap.

Sebastian is, as always, busy. Everything's manageable at the moment - neither the country nor the party are falling into the abyss, but that doesn’t mean that he's got time to rest. There’s people and policy to keep up to date on, and he can't afford to ever fall behind. Which is why he makes sure to keep a couple steps ahead of where everyone’s supposed to be. It's what got him through school and through the first years of his job. It's also what keeps him at the office late, though that's decreased over time now that Jim's around. Much more appealing to be able to come home to someone and not just the cats. There was a commotion outside, Sebastian looking up from his work just as the door opened. “An interesting opening statement, Katherine Conway,” he replied. The name seemed familiar but not enough to be someone he kept active tabs on. “Will I?” It seemed very much like he would, given that she had clearly decided to make herself home. A nod at the secretary in the doorway and the door was shut. “In that case, I suppose I'd like to know just what it is that you think is so important to require an urgent, unscheduled meeting. My time is valuable and I have later meetings, so brief is best.”

“Cancel them. I’m here to talk about James, and knowing him, that could well take all night.” 

And wouldn’t he just love that? There was a bitter twist to her lips as she continued, “He called me last weekend, told me about the two of you. How serious would you say it was?” He had a pot of pens on his desk, sleek and black with shiny gold hooks so that he could slip one into his pocket without fear of it falling out. She reached forward to take one, testing its weight in her hand, twirling it in between her fingers. “Serious enough for him to call, I suppose. But not serious enough for him to have told you everything, am I right? Didn’t want you to run a background check on him?” Her free hand disappeared into her pocket and came out with a card. Katherine Conway, Named Partner at Conway O’Kelly, an all-female chambers in Dublin. There had been a glint of recognition in his eyes when he’d repeated her name back to her and she was sure this was why; he knew of her work, not her history with his boyfriend. She’d enjoy telling him then. “Well, let me clear up some of the confusion. I used to be his girlfriend. And he wants to introduce you to the daughter we share. So, I wanted to meet you first, to make sure I was happy with that. Politicians, you know, they’re not the most trustworthy people.”

“James, you say? That sounds rather serious.” He made no move to cancel the meetings. He was fairly certain the first one could go on without him, though he’d miss out. But they'd cross that bridge if they came to it. If this was about Jim, he'd rather hear what she had to say, but he didn't intend to be pushed into any particular action. Jim had called her? What could he possibly be up to? “Quite serious, I’d say. I assume you read the news.” If she wanted details, she could refer to that. He watched as she took a pen, wondering just what her intentions where, what her connections to Jim might be. Sebastian didn't indicate an answer one way or another to the first question. “He’s told me more than enough and I have respected his privacy when asked to do so.” Jim’s privacy. Not that of others, but that wasn't something he was going to admit to. Not when she'd given him one small fact - that Jim had called. Fact 2: Sebastian hadn't known. Fact 3: Sebastian didn't know everything. 

She pulled out her card - as if that would give him much more information. It’d give him information that he could find, which was exactly what this meeting was not about. This meeting was about gaps in knowledge and Sebastian hated being on the wrong side of that. She was more than simply her job and title - if she knew Jim, that is. “Thank you for the clarification. It's much appreciated.” The thin smile on his face suggested otherwise. That she was the mother was a surprise, but she didn't have to know that. “I’d be happy to meet his child, should I pass inspection.” That information hadn't been as much from Jim. “Some might say the same for your profession. I’d know - did you look into me at all?” He really hoped so, or he'd be sincerely disappointed. She'd shown initiative so far and it'd be unfortunate if that ended up being a false lead. Time for a little bit more of a gamble. “He did mention you, by the way. As a detail. Youthful mistakes, you know.”

Nothing about her expression, her demeanour, changed. She didn’t miss a breath or move a muscle. Not quite relaxed, because from her posture it was clear that she meant business, but authoritative. Refusing to be riled. Did you look into me at all? Ha. She wanted to scoff—the Dubliner in her who’d grown up in the wrong part of the city wanted to spit—but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled. “Of course. Sebastian Moran, graduated top of his class from Magdalen College, Oxford. Fast tracked into politics, no doubt helped by his Daddy, who’s the Labour Whip in the House of Lords. Sebastian Moran who dislocated his shoulder climbing up the drainpipe of his family home during a scrap with a sibling.” The information about Oxford and his father, she could have got from anywhere. The more personal details, though, they’re not such common knowledge. She could feel his eyes scanning her face, trying to determine her source. “Your sister told me. Moira. Well, obviously. Alex doesn’t talk, does she?” Kate’s smile grew wider, more pointed. “Still managing to cause a lot of trouble up in Manchester though, I hear. Moira and I work the same cases occasionally—opposite sides, of course, but it’s always good to have a glass of wine and catch up. I’d heard rumours about you and James and she all but confirmed them, but he’s never been one for commitment, so.” The comment about her being a mistake more than stung, but she couldn’t let herself lose her cool just yet. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked at his steadfastly across the wide expanse of his desk. “You’ll understand if I don’t want my family being dragged into the centre of a political scandal just for the sake of some fling?”

She didn't react, which told him only so much. Either it could be that neither of his hits had landed or that some of them had - and he wasn’t going to be able to tell which ones until she’d started on the offensive again. He didn't like her, but he had to admit she had at least done her research. Plenty of it, it seemed, given the much more personal anecdote tacked on the end. “A good summary of my CV. I’d keep the assumptions to a minimum, if I were you, though. I have an entirely different constituency from him - no handover there. Speaks just a little bit to his position on merit, wouldn't you say?” It was a blow that set him off each time he heard it, but Sebastian wasn't going to reveal weakness. “It's hardly surprising that it'd be easy to find inspiration in his work.”

An eyebrow raised as he stared, wondering just who she might have had access to - ah. Moira. Of course. No family loyalty - he should have known. They'd have to talk about that next time he saw her. In all, the story wasn't too damning, as long as no one looked too closely at how old he'd been at the time. The fact that Moira somehow approved of Conway was both a red flag and a promise that this would be interesting, no matter the way it turned out. “Oh, no, Alex simply has better judgement of who she speaks to.” The jab at Alex was another blow that landed. Conway really had done her research. A smile. “You know, given how close she and Jim are?” Just how far he’d gone since leaving Kate. He wouldn’t give her information that she didn't deserve - that Jim had been committed for far longer than the press knew. “I think he can be, with the right person. Maybe you didn't have enough faith.” The personal angle seemed a far richer vein for now. “I understand perfectly, though really it's up to you - when have I ever been implicated in a scandal, after all? It’d be awful to lose the reputation you've made, wouldn’t it? And I'm sure the scrutiny on the rest of your family would be uncomfortable as well.” It wasn't an outright threat. “All the same, I do understand the value placed on family - did Moira neglect to tell you about the times I've looked after her children?”

“I have plenty of faith, thank you. Actually, I found it was his that was lacking.” Tucked beneath the sharp collar of the severe white shirt ( court clothes; really, she should be at the hotel, prepping her closing statement for tomorrow ) was the battered gold crucifix her parents had given her for her First Communion. Her fingers tighten around one another in her lap so they don’t fly up to fiddle with it. No clues. “And reminding me about his lifestyle choices—" As if that was necessary. “—Won’t help you make your case, Mr. Moran.” Once upon a time, it had been James’s lack of conventionality that she had loved, the fact that he wore leather and make up and made her mother spit with fury whenever she saw them together. When had that changed? When she’d found out she was pregnant and the father of her child had fucked off to England, leaving her unmarried and in trouble and— 

Kate took a deep breath to calm herself, recentre her thoughts, and continued. “I’m sure you’re a fine babysitter,” she said stiffly. “But this is different. And the fact that you can sit there and threaten my family tells me everything I need to know. Unless you have anything else to add, this interview is over.” She pocketed his pen and bent down to retrieve her bag, getting back on her feet before she said, “You can give James my answer, and that is if he ever brings up introducing her to you—or attempts to do it behind my back—I shan’t let him anywhere near her again. We can take it to the courts if we have to; we all know who’s going to win.”

“A strong judgment, I'd say.” Perhaps not entirely unfair, depending on what sort of faith they were discussing, but still. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t. But one of my sisters is willing to avoid gossip about the family, and it’s not the one you’re friends with.” He’d really have to talk to Moira about tattling like that. It was annoying, more than anything, but all the same. She took a breath and - clearly, he’d set her off with one his remarks - this wasn't really how he'd wanted this to go. “I don't see how it's different. In fact, I'd say it's even more low risk than babysitting, given that all Jim has asked of you is an introduction.” He considered asking for his pen back. With her standing, ready to go, he’d have to take this seriously - more seriously than before. He might have told her not to be so sure about the outcome, but that would drive the wedge further between them. For Jim’s sake, he shouldn’t. 

“I know the statistics of custody awards, Miss Conway. There is no need to threaten.” Really, there was no need to resort to outright threats. “You do realize a court case would bring exactly the sort of eyes you’d like to avoid?" He stood as well, finally. “I appreciate how much you're willing to do to protect your family and I won't tell you how to do so, but I do think it incredibly unfair of you to not tell him your decision yourself. Not because I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but because he - maturely - asked you for permission to do the barest minimum of actions and you're making assumptions based on a five minute interview that you began with no pretensions of civility.” She’d come in on the offensive and he’d replied in kind. "You don't have to like me - I hardly expect you would, but that doesn't seem like just grounds to punish Jim. Or your daughter, really, who I believe is old enough to ask questions. If I find that you've ever actually prevented him from seeing her because of me, then I really will take issue." Maybe a bit of a threat.

“Mrs.” She paused with her bag over her arm, glowering down at him until her got his feet, and then, even in heels, she was forced to look up. “I don't know what kind of woman you think I am, sir, but I'm not a single one, that's for sure. I've been married eleven years next month.” For their anniversary the year before, she and Richard had hoped to go to Italy. Perhaps this year, if they could find someone to mind the children for a long weekend, they'd actually make it to the art galleries in Florence, the catacombs under Rome. Maybe if Jim could take them ... There was no one else she trusted, but could she even trust him anymore? “You said you were short on time and I believe in getting straight to the point, so please forgive me if I didn't pause to make small talk; we're busy people and there's not a whole lot to say. I don't like to be threatened and that’s twice in five minutes you've threatened me and my family. I don't like you, and your attitude certainly isn't helping. How long have you and James been together?”

“Mrs. Conway, then.” They were past pretending to polite, but he might as well be correct. "Yes, that is what the records say, isn't it." Seb hadn't looked into Jim, but he had done some digging. Just to see what he could find. He'd looked less at her, still trying to keep from directly disobeying Jim's wishes, but the brother had been an opportunity. “I did, didn't I. It's still true, but at the same time you did say it could take a while. You seemed less bothered by time limits at the beginning of this.” Which meant most likely that he'd offended her. Which he'd been trying to do, to be fair. “Neither of those were direct threats, Mrs. Conway, but neither of us have time to argue semantics. You rudely marched in here, implied that I was courting scandal and have since mentioned cutting Jim off from his daughter as well as the possibility to take all of this to court. You're hardly innocent.” 

Here was the choice. They were at the rumor stage of the plan. Technically they'd been more or less together for a year by now, but no one else knew that. “You said you read the news - if they're to be believed, then I think you have your answer - that it all came together after his track.” A breadcrumb. “Moira would perhaps tell you that over a year ago, I was in charge of driving him to and from one of our family's gatherings.” And another breadcrumb dropped. If she wanted to pick them up, follow the trail, she could. Everything he'd said was true in its own way. The interpretation was up to her.

One of Kate's eyebrows went up. “If all I was interested in was second-hand gossip and the suppositions of the press,” she said coolly. “Do you think I'd be here? No. So, it doesn't take an Oxford-educated intellect to infer that what I would like to hear is the truth, straight from the horse's mouth, as it were. An alien concept to you maybe, but I’ll wait if I have to.” And so saying, she slipped out of her coat and sat back down, making a show of settling in for a long stalemate. “How did a politician and a musician who has publicly lambasted him on more than one occasion become a serious item?” Her tone was cold, but she was genuinely curious. Not so much in the how, though, more the, why this man, James? What the hell does someone like you see in him?

That had gotten her back, at least. Sebastian sat as well. “I haven’t lied to you, Mrs Conway,” he replied. He had perhaps misrepresented the truth, omitted, assumed, but he hadn't outright lied just yet. And sure, he'd threatened too, but only vaguely. “And did you ask Jim for the truth?” That was - though perhaps a bit of an attack - mostly just curiosity. “Or is he next? Making sure we can't coordinate our stories?” That was an unfair accusation, but he saw no reason to play fair with her. He shrugged, seemingly relaxed. “Maybe it's the public lambasting that makes it fun,” he replied, trying to think of just what he could or should tell her. She didn't deserve the details of their relationship - certainly no more than the general public did. “As much as it may shock you, we get along well. I think we represent a bit of a challenge to each other, and that's what keeps things interesting.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...