He was thinking about it. Thinking about making that brief stint he did last year a yearly tradition, but as it was Cassia's last year, he decided he wouldn't force her to behold the paleness that was his backside. It seemed pretty downlow and he expected that much from the house of spies to to whom secrecy was of the utmost importance, but still he had to wonder ...




Was that what Vesper Bayliss had meant about him being like West?





Cutty had to have been kidding himself here, though, but he wasn't. He so wasn't. Thus was the size of his ego. Skinny, pale twerp got into the Lake, appropriately attired (thank you, Merlin!) and went for a swim before it cooled off too significantly.