Crawling Back For More
by ScreamingFae (ao3)
Chapter 1
James stood outside the door to the huge, shady-looking warehouse by the docks, and double checked the Maps app on his mobile phone.. It definitely seemed to be the right address, but James could hardly imagine Regulus Black working somewhere that looked so…well, shady.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to Regulus Black in years, not since college, but the Regulus that he used to know had been all expensive clothes, lavish dinner parties and upscale parties in the posh part of the city. He certainly wasn’t dodgy warehouses set up on shifty docks with even shiftier workmen lumbering around.
Maybe Sirius had been right. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Do you think your brother could get me a job?”
Sirius raised his eyebrows at James, as they sat in the dingy bar that they often frequented. “Probably. But I don’t think that’s a good idea, mate.”
James took a swig of his beer, “Why not? I’m desperate. I’ll take anything at this point.”
Sirius shrugged, “I shouldn’t really get into it, but you know Regulus works for my parents, right?”
“Yeah. The shipping business. I figured I could do some manual labour. You know, early shifts or late nights, maybe even the overnight shift, I really don’t care at this point. You know how shit it’s been since I broke up with Lily.”
James had worked for his ex-girlfriend’s father when they were together, at his carpenting firm. When they split up, Mr. Evans had been more than willing to keep James on at the firm, insisting that it wouldn’t be awkward between them, but James couldn’t face it. He worked out the four weeks notice he was required to give, and then promptly finished, expecting to find another job in no time.
Apparently, it wasn’t that easy anymore. After weeks of struggling and not being able to pay his half of the rent for the flat he shared with Sirius, he was fed up. Sirius didn’t mind footing the bill—he had enough of his uncle’s inheritance to tide them over, plus his night job at a secretive bar (that he still hadn’t told James much about) brought him in generous tips. But James wasn’t a freeloader.
“I don’t know a lot about it since my lovely mother disowned me if I’m honest, but there’s no way anything that goes on in that shipping company is legitimate, mate. Or even legal, probably.”
“Surely Regulus wouldn’t be doing anything illegal,” scoffed James. “He was always so…straight laced.” James thought about Regulus as he spoke, about how well behaved he was in college, how well he did in his classes, the grades he came out with at the end.
Although, he wasn’t always that well behaved. Sirius didn’t know half of it, nor did he need to. James shook those thoughts out of his head.
“Reggie will do whatever Mummy tells him to.”
James sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, I don’t care. I’m desperate, okay? Even if I can just work a couple of weeks to pay you back—”
“I told you, I don’t care about the rent!”
“Well I do!” James snapped. “Just get me his number, okay?”
There was a pause as Sirius took a slow swallow from his bottle, “you mean you don’t still have it?”
James glanced at Sirius, “why would I still have it?” He paused, “why would I have ever had it?”
Sirius eyed James knowingly over the rim of his beer, “you know why.”
James shoved his mobile in his pocket and reached for the buzzer by the door. Well, Sirius had said that the family weren’t in legitimate business, so they were hardly going to have an office in the middle of upstate London, were they? He took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer.
What else did he have to lose at this point?
“Password?” a gravelly voice spoke through the intercom, making James jump.
Password? James had no idea about any password. Regulus hadn’t mentioned a password in their brief conversation on the phone. Was it some kind of joke? “I don’t…”
The static went flat, and James pressed the buzzer again.
“Password?” the same voice said again.
“I don’t know the password—not yet—No!—Don’t hang up—I’m here to see Regulus?”
There was a pause, and James waited for the inevitable sound of the buzzer going flat again. It did, but it was followed almost immediately by a clicking sound, and the door swung open, revealing a dark corridor within.
A tall, thin man with a familiar sharp face and sandy brown hair stepped out from the gloom of the corridor. He was wearing a plain black uniform and his peaky face stood out in the darkness. “Come with me,” he said gruffly and reached out to take James’s hand, then started leading him down the corridor.
It was weird—he hadn’t expected to be dragged through the warehouse like a child, but he didn’t really know how to pull his hand away without seeming rude. Instead he tried to gauge his surroundings as they walked in silence through the building.
He was led through a series of corridors, away from the doors and windows that looked out onto the bleak, almost abandoned docks. James assumed he was being taken to Regulus’s office—though he didn’t expect it to be behind the vividly painted red door that they stopped abruptly in front of.
The man gave a series of raps on the door, before pulling it open and walking through, still holding James’s hand.
The corridor beyond the red door was much different to the ones they had already come through. The walls were painted a deep, dark red, which was only accentuated by the dim crimson lights that lined the ceiling. There were multiple doors branching off the single long corridor, all painted the same fire-engine-scarlet as the first one.
“What the hell?” James muttered, but the man holding his hand said nothing. They kept walking to the very end of the hall, until they came to a door that was a simple, glossy black.
The man knocked just once on the door and then pushed it open. “Your guest is here.” He dragged James forwards and shoved him through, closing the door sharply behind him.
James’ eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room, which was in stark contrast to the dinginess of the corridor. It was a simple affair, painted subtly in monochrome tones with dark leather furniture. It would have been perfectly normal, if not for the enormous black cross-shaped frame standing in the corner, with shackles at all four points, the walls that were lined with dildos of every size and shape, and the cabinet full of riding crops, handcuffs and a variety of other strange devices that James wouldn’t even like to attempt to name.
“Welcome to my office.”
James’ eyes snapped to the figure that sat behind a desk at the far end of the enormous room. He stood up, and James almost choked on his breath.
Regulus Black was dressed head to toe in leather, or PVC, or something else that was inherently tight and shiny. Despite the black material covering him from neck to wrist, there was something ridiculously attractive about the clothing he was wearing. As Regulus moved closer to James, he took notice of the tight corset belt around his waist and the thigh-high boots that were laced from top-to-toe, complete with heels.
“Bloody hell, Reg,” James breathed, taking his glasses off to wipe them on the hem of his shirt, “those boots go all the way up, huh?”
Regulus raised a neat eyebrow and combed a strand of hair out of his face. “I haven’t seen you in over five years, and that’s what you say to me when I’m standing in front of you dressed entirely in latex?”
James put his glasses back on, trying to ignore the fact that they instantly steamed up again. “To be honest…” he looked Regulus up and down again, and then around the room. “I don’t really know what to say.”
“Sit down,” Regulus pointed at the leather couch. James walked over and gingerly sat down on the edge, trying not to think about what it generally got used for.
“What’s going on? I thought I was coming for a job interview.”
“You are,” Regulus replied, as he perched on the arm of the chair, “Well, not really. I don’t need to interview you, because I’m giving you a job. If you want it.”
“Helping with the shipping stuff?”
Regulus deadpanned, “do you think I’d fetch you into a dungeon if I wanted you to help lug boxes out of containers? If that’s what I wanted, I’d have sent you to my father.”
“Is that what this place is?” James asked, looking around the room again. “A…dungeon?” He paused. “Also, your father?” He suddenly remembered what Sirius had said about Regulus working for his parents, “do…do your parents…you work for your parents?”
Regulus scoffed. “Please,” he muttered, “they think I push drugs into the country and so follow the not-so-honourable family business.” He paused, “I mean, I do, but that’s mostly a cover so that I can have this building to operate my real business.”
“So what am I going to be doing here?” James asked. “You’re not going to…pay me to sleep with people, are you? I’m open to a lot of things, Reg, but that’s kind of a hard limit—”
“I don’t sleep with people!” snapped Regulus. “I’m not a prostitute. I’m a domme. A dominatrix. Whatever you want to call it.”
“I barely know what any of those words mean.”
“You’ll learn,” Regulus replied. “If you agree to be my assistant.”
James agreed, obviously. How could he not? Regulus promised him thirty percent of the earnings from whatever clients James helped out with. If he was being honest, James didn’t think that was a great deal, but he didn’t really want to ask Regulus what he earned.
About an hour into their meeting Regulus pulled a duffel bag out from under the desk and threw it at James. “Get changed. We have an appointment in…” he glanced at the clock on the wall. “Ten minutes.”
‘Ten minutes?’ James spluttered, but Regulus didn’t answer, just raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the bag lying on the floor by James’ feet. Feeling totally out of his depth, James unzipped the bag and pulled out a handful of latex. He didn’t know where the top started and the bottom ended. ‘Er…what sort of appointment?’ he asked.
“My next client, obviously.”
“You want my help already?” James replied. “I haven’t even…I’ve not even processed what’s happening yet. I don’t even know what to do!”
“You’re going to learn on the job. Come on, get dressed.”
James glanced up at Regulus, who had taken a seat on top of the desk, his long, leather-clad legs crossed. “Right now?”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
James stared at Regulus for a moment, thinking of what to say back. He hadn’t spoken to Regulus for years, and he never expected him to bring up what happened before on their first meeting. He decided against responding and instead turned to face the opposite wall as he unbuttoned his shirt.
He could feel Regulus’ eyes burning into his back as he undressed, and he tried to focus on anything else. Like how hard it was to force his legs into the skin-tight leather trousers. After a great deal of struggling, he managed to get them on, and he rooted through the bag for the shirt.
He pulled out nothing except some kind of belt and a leather cap. He turned to Regulus, who was eyeballing him with interest, and held up the strappy contraption. “Where is the top half of this outfit?”
“You’re holding it,” Regulus beckoned for James to come closer, and took the straps out of his hand. “Turn around.”
James did, and Regulus reached around James’s front, holding out the straps for James to put his arms through. He wrapped it around his torso and buckled it tightly at the back.
“Is this it?” James asked, when he turned back around to face Regulus. It was basically a studded harness. His chest was completely on display.
“Yes,” Regulus replied smoothly. “You’d better wear the hat, too.”
James rolled his eyes and jammed the leather hat over his messy hair. “Happy?”
Regulus smirked, and slid off the desk. “I’ll tell you about the client in the car. Let’s go.”
“The…car?” James asked, as he followed Regulus out of the room. Regulus walked quickly down the corridor, the heels of his boots click-clacking on the concrete floor, and James had to jog to keep up with his long strides. The peaky-faced man was standing by one of the red doors further down the corridor, and he pulled it open as Regulus approached.
“Thanks, Barty,” Regulus said, and led James through the door. James hurried after him, and realised they were outside—at the back end of the warehouse. “This is the entrance we normally use,” Regulus explained. “The clients, too. Don’t come through the front in future. That’s for…”
“The drugs,” James offered weakly.
“The shipping,” Regulus corrected briskly. “Please don’t worry about the family business because you’re not going to be part of that. You’ll have nothing to do with it. Don’t even let it cross your little mind.” Regulus paused as they reached a sleek black car waiting on the road outside the warehouse. “And you might want to stop mentioning the drugs, if you would be so kind.”
“Y-yeah,” James replied, looking at the car in awe. He didn’t know much about cars, but whatever this one was, he knew it was expensive.
The car trilled with the sound of it being unlocked, and James turned around to see Barty standing behind them, holding the keys. He’d followed them out of the building. Regulus walked around to the passenger side and climbed in, and Barty held the keys out to James. James blinked at him, “you…want me to drive?”
“What have I hired you for?” Regulus said from inside the car. “You’re my assistant. You can drive, can’t you?”
“Yeah,” James took the keys from Barty and nodded in thanks, then climbed into the driver’s seat. Barty pushed the door closed behind him. “Am I allowed to drive this thing?” James asked Regulus. “I mean, for insurance—”
“It’s fine,” Regulus said breezily, “now let’s go.” He reached for the dash and tapped some instructions into the built-in SatNav.
“That guy,” James said as he started the ignition and set the car moving, “your…bodyguard?”
“Barty is my friend. He’s security, administration…he helps me run this place.”
“I know him. I mean, I recognised him, but I didn’t realise who he was until you said his name. He was in your year at college, right?”
“Irrelevant,” Regulus muttered, “but right. Anyway,” he continued, “you don’t call me by my name when we’re in front of clients, ever. You call me River, or Mistress, or Master, it depends on what the client wants.”
“Mistress…?”
Regulus looked straight ahead at the road in front of them. “It’s rare that my clients care about the gender of their domme, but they sometimes have preferences. I can be fluid like that.” He flashed a grin at James and folded his hands in his lap.
“Are they going to expect that of me?”
Regulus snorted. “You could never pull off coming across as femme, James. You’re far too butch. Don’t worry.”
James decided to take that as a compliment. “So, what are you going to call me?”
Regulus continued to look straight ahead. “That’s up to you.”
The building that James and Regulus walked towards was shrouded in scaffolding, and in the dark of the night it was difficult to see if anyone was hanging around underneath, but there was. As they moved closer, they could see a man wearing a pinstripe suit, with lank dark hair and eyes that darted about all over the place.
“Just follow my lead,” Regulus murmured as they advanced on the man.
Regulus stalked towards him confidently, and James did his best to follow suit. The man squeaked as Regulus punched him swiftly in the gut, causing him to bend double and groan. Regulus then looped an arm through his, and James did the same on the other side, and together they dragged him back to the car.
Regulus left James holding the man upright. He was whimpering pathetic nonsense as Regulus popped open the boot of the car. “Throw him in.”
James swallowed his nerves and shoved the man towards the boot, letting him flop into the car uselessly. He looked up at James and Regulus with watery eyes. Regulus leaned down close to the man, leering. “Hello, Walden.”
“M-Master River.”
James was surprised to see that Walden actually
smiled
as the boot was slammed shut.
Chapter 2
Once the car was parked back up outside the warehouse, James looked over at Regulus. “Okay—what the hell is going on?”
Regulus was looking at his gloved hands, and he smirked as his gaze shifted towards James. “Walden Macnair is a judge who works mostly with extremely criminal cases. He spends every day having to make the final decision on whether someone is given a huge prison sentence or not.”
“What does that have to do with—” James gestured to the back of the car, where Walden still laid silently in the boot, “this?”
Regulus’s face became rather solemn. “It has everything to do with it, James. A lot of men come here for my services, the majority of whom have similar jobs to Walden. They have to make life changing decisions for others, they have people looking to them for answers, they are constantly expected of. But when they come and see me, they don’t have to do any of that. They just have to be completely at my mercy, and it’s a huge thrill for them. It’s…freeing, in a strange way.”
James stared at Regulus for a few moments, before shaking his head. He didn’t really understand a lot of what was going on, but he was willing to learn. He was wearing the harness and the leather cap and he’d helped Regulus throw a man in the boot, so he really didn’t have much choice in the matter at this point. “So…what does he want, then?”
“Basic stuff as far as my job goes,” Regulus explained, “ropes, spanking, degradation of his dick and balls—”
“Degradation of his—”
“Yes. He loves it. Come on,” Regulus climbed out of the car, pushing the door shut behind him, and then walked round the back to the boot. James followed, watching as Regulus popped the boot open, looking down at Walden, who was curled up in, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Where am I?” he rasped, unable to hide the trepidation in his voice.
“Did I say you could fucking speak?” Regulus hissed, and Walden cowered pathetically. “Right, get him out of the car, Ja—” Regulus paused, turning his eyes on James. “What was your name again?”
James furrowed his eyebrows in confusion for a moment, before remembering their earlier discussion about what Regulus would call him in front of clients. “Er—“ he felt put on the spot, and Walden was looking up at him curiously. “G-Godfrey. Yeah. Godfrey.”
Regulus looked like he was about to laugh, but he pursed his lips together and looked back at Walden. “Godfrey. Get him out of the car.”
James had to essentially give Walden a Fireman’s Lift into the warehouse, while Regulus walked demurely in front, leading the way. Regulus took him into a different room this time—not his office behind the black door, but to a room behind one of the red doors instead.
Inside was a simple table stretched out in the middle of the room, with four shackles, one at each corner. The walls were slate grey, the lights bright and clinical. It was almost like a hospital room. “On the table,” Regulus ordered, and James flopped Walden down obediently. “Take off your clothes and shoes then lie down, there’s a good boy.”
James looked away awkwardly as the pasty man removed his pinstripe jacket hurriedly and dropped it to the floor, then shuffled out of his trousers and shirt. He lay back down on the table, blissfully naked, his eyes darting around the room. He’d not even been wearing underwear.
Now that there was a naked man lying right in front of him, completely unashamed and hard enough to smash concrete, James wondered if he was in too deep. Was it too late to back out?
Walden put his hands up straight away, and James watched as Regulus deftly fastened the shackles to his wrists and then moved around to do the same to his ankles. James could see, though he tried not to look, that Walden was extremely turned on by the scenario.
Regulus wandered over the cabinet on the wall and selected a thin, plain riding crop. “How bad have you been this time, Walden?” he purred seductively, returning to the table and running the leather whip across his bare chest.
“Oh, terribly bad, Master River,” Walden garbled, his voice wobbly with excitement, “I deserve to be punished.”
“I’ll tell you what you deserve,” snapped Regulus, and he raised the riding crop slightly, before striking Walden lightly on his upper thigh.
This exchange went on for a little while; Walden wittering away about how awful he had been and how much punishment he needed, and Regulus hissing obscenities at him and whipping him lightly with the crop. James looked between them during the entire scenario, unsure what his part he was supposed to play.
It would soon come to light.
“Tell me my cock is tiny,” Walden suddenly wailed, staring desperately at Regulus. “Please, Master, please tell me.”
James couldn’t help it. The whole situation was so absurd, so ridiculous. He snorted before he even realised what he was doing, and had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle the laugh. Both Walden and Regulus snapped their eyes to look at him.
“Master River, is Godfrey laughing at me?” Walden asked..
“No!” said Regulus quickly. “He’s not. Are you, Godfrey?”
James opened his mouth to retort, but Walden got there first. “I think I liked it.”
Regulus raised an eyebrow and looked across the table at James.
“Master, please can Godfrey…”
“What, Walden?” Regulus muttered.
“Can Godfrey tell me how small my cock is?”
Regulus’s smirk widened. “You heard him, Godfrey. Tell Walden how small his dick is.”
“What?” James blinked, shaking his head. “Re— River— I can’t do that, no.”
“He won’t do it?” Walden whimpered.
“No, he will do it,” Regulus replied. “That is, if he wants to get paid at the end of the night.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’m sure you’ve said plenty worse about the dicks you’ve seen in your time,” Regulus said, his eyes flashing dangerously.
“You’ve seen lots?” Walden asked suddenly, and James felt his face burning, “is…is mine…the smallest you’ve ever seen?”
Walden was staring at him, waiting. Regulus looked at him, daring him to answer. James glanced between them.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said through gritted teeth. “Yes, it’s tiny. I’ve seen cocktail sausages bigger than that thing.”
“Oh…” Walden murmured, looking pleased.
“And…and…” James continued, seeking out Regulus for confirmation. Regulus nodded encouragingly. “You have about three pubic hairs and it looks like you piss out of one of them!”
Walden’s face looked strangled, but he was nodding urgently as he stared at James. It filled James with a strange sort of…power.
“You could fuck someone harder with a button mushroom!”
“Oh my God!” Walden howled. His face scrunched up, and to James’s absolute horror, he came explosively all over himself.
About an hour later, after Walden Macnair had left, James was standing on the street outside with Regulus. It was almost three in the morning and they were both dressed in normal clothes now. James was almost thankful to see Regulus out of the latex and leather. As hot as it was, he was much less intimidating wearing dark jeans and a sweater.
“Look,” James said, “I’ll drive you around to pick up clients, I’ll dress up and drag them in with you, but that…” he sighed, “I don’t think I can do that again, Regulus.”
Regulus reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. “You’re right. That wasn’t you. That was Godfrey back there.” He handed James the cash, and James raised his eyebrows. “If you see him again, let him know there’s a lot more where this came from. Also,” Regulus gestured to the car they had used to pick Walden up earlier. “You can keep it while you’re working with me. Company car, or whatever they call it in…desirable businesses.”
James blinked. “Really?”
Regulus shrugged. “If you’re driving it, it means you can give me a lift home.” He smiled, and James laughed.
“Fair enough.” James fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car.
The drive was mostly silent after Regulus had thumbed his address into the Sat-Nav. It took James almost forty minutes to drive Regulus away from the docs back to his house.
When James used to know Regulus all those years ago, he was living with his parents in their pretentious manor. James had only been on a few occasions, when Walburga and Orion Black were out of the house. He’d assumed he would be taking Regulus back to the manor, but the property that James pulled into was a sleek, unassuming apartment block.
“You moved out of the manor?” James asked as he stilled the engine.
Regulus looked at James blankly. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Well…” James didn’t really know what to say. “I guess I always just assumed you’d live with them forever. I never imagined they’d let you go.”
Regulus undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. “They still haven’t, not really,” he said with a sigh, and leaned down to look through the passenger door, “are you coming inside?”
James raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m not flirting with you,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes, “it’s nearly four in the morning. I have a sofa-bed.”
“I…” James wondered about the long drive back home, and what Sirius would no doubt say if he turned up in the early hours of the morning. If Sirius was even back home from his bar job. “Uh, yeah. Okay then.” He took the keys out of the ignition and followed after Regulus.
Regulus’s flat was on the very top floor, and was as minimalist as his dungeon office, with pale walls and dark furniture. Abstract art in simple colours decorated the hallway; there were no pictures of friends or family. He led James through to a spacious living room with a small kitchenette and large French doors that led out onto a balcony. Regulus busied himself with the couch, which pulled out easily into a sofa-bed.
“I’ll get you some bedding from the linen cupboard,” Regulus said quietly. “You should be comfortable enough.”
“Thanks,” James said, sitting down on the edge of the sofa.
Regulus went out of the room to look for bedding. He came back in a few moments with sheets and blankets, and folded them neatly before passing them over to James. “I’m going to shower before bed,” he explained. “My room is at the end of the hall, if you need me for anything. If you want to get in the bath or the shower or anything, feel free. There’s food in the fridge too, though not much,” Regulus looked slightly apologetic, “but there’ll be breakfast in the morning.”
“No worries,” James said hoarsely. He was suddenly hyper-aware that he was alone with Regulus, in his flat, in the middle of the night, and that Regulus was going to be naked in another room very soon. His heart was racing.
“Are you okay?” Regulus asked, looking at him shrewdly.
“Yeah,” James said hurriedly. “Just tired.”
“Okay. Well, see you in the morning.” Regulus left the living room and went into another room down the hall, leaving James alone. He quickly made the sofa-bed and stripped down to his boxers, then climbed under the blankets.
After a little while, he heard the shower running, and James tried—with no luck—to suppress his thoughts.
James was sitting on the couch at the Black Manor with Sirius, drinking cheap beer and laughing at a joke he’d just told. Walburga and Orion were out of the country on work business, so Sirius had invited James over for a few nights.
Sirius had his own car, so it was much easier getting to college when James was staying with him. It did mean that Sirius generally took Regulus into college too—he was in the year below them, studying for about four different A-Levels.
The Black Manor was dismal and dark and a little bit weird, but they could have a laugh there.
It got a little bit awkward, however, when Regulus came down the stairs to the drawing room, wearing nothing but a black towel wrapped around his middle and hitched up his slender torso.
“Can you be a bit quieter?” he asked, glaring at Sirius with his steely-grey eyes. “I know you don’t give a shit about your education, but I’ve got an important Sociology test tomorrow.”
James didn’t even hear what Sirius said in response. He was too busy staring at Regulus. His dark hair was damp and curly, and water was trickling down his face. James was momentarily awed by Regulus’s sharp clavicle and flawless expanses of pale skin, and he suddenly realised he wouldn’t mind if Regulus was to drop the towel altogether.
He turned his face away when Regulus caught his eye, and James felt his face burning with embarrassment. This was Sirius’s brother— he shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts about his best mate’s brother.
James woke up some hours later, sunlight streaming through the patio doors. He was comfortable on the sofa bed and there was a wonderful smell of bacon filling the room. His stomach rumbled angrily, he couldn't remember the last time he’d eaten. but his stomach was rumbling angrily. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. James sat up, looking around for the source of the smell. Regulus has said there was no food in the house—had he gone out to pick something up?
“Good morning,” a voice said.
James looked towards the kitchenette, and nearly fell back down on the sofa in shock.
There was a man standing behind the counter in the kitchen. A short, slightly chubby man in his early twenties, with thin blond hair and watery eyes. This probably wouldn’t have been completely abnormal, except the man was wearing nothing except for a pair of tight boxer shorts and a tiny frilly white apron. “Can I get you some breakfast, Sir? I have set a place on the breakfast bar for you and Master River.” He bowed deeply over the counter.
James rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long day.