Work Text:
Mary revolved with practised ease in Turpin’s arms, keeping her face smooth and vacant under the powder and paint. And indeed, though she was waiting in some suspense for Adela Victor to appear, she was calm. It had done her good to compare notes with Dick; she was desperately worried about him. If Medina saw through him… But she was glad Dick knew what she was doing, no panic or distrust, glad that she was working at the same job. Just like when they had first known each other.
It was a bad business. That poor little boy! And Medina, uncanny in a way that made von Schwabing seem human and comprehensible. It wasn’t just his hypnotic powers, it was the way he saw everything as a tool. There had been something about how he had looked at her... Condescending, and yet resentful. She wondered how he looked at Dick; no, best not to think about what couldn’t be helped. Dick had been in bad places before, and come through them. He knew his job.
And so did she. Revolving in Turpin’s arms, she breathed in. She was – not happy exactly, but fully alive, entirely alert.
Just like old times.