Watching Fisher, and James, Lily was both captivated by how gorgeous the taller man was, and also how disgustingly useless a person he was. The posessiveness was obvious in his eyes (because she knew how to see it), his smile fake and dangerous. And the way he spoke to Rez, years of high society breeding in every chilled syllable. "Oh please," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "At least Rez is man enough to be obvious about his disdain for you. You're like a Ticonderoga housewife." It felt amazingly good to be talking to James this way. Therapeutic, almost. There had been a time when Lily, in a different life and body and mind, thought she would die without James. Now, seeing Fisher standing there in his arms, the entire scene was almost pathetic.