Holmes' Book Of One Shots

Newly Born Criminal || Molliarty

            James Moriarty has a gun held to her head. She keeps her eyes open, her posture straight. Her breathing speeds a bit, but less from fright and more from his closeness. Her expression is stoic, and she watchers him from her peripheral vision.

"You don't seem very afraid, Dr Hooper." He seems amused. Though her peripheral vision is blurred, she's sure that a smirk adorns his face.

Molly takes no pause. "I'm not, Jim."

He presses the tip of the barrel to the side of her head. "Here I am, gun to your head, and yet you still call me by informal terms."

"I don't feel as if you should be addressed formally by me."

He laughed a short, amused laugh. "Why not?"

"Jim," Molly said, "if you think that this – you – makes me afraid, makes me dislike you .... you've never been more wrong in your life."

"What are you saying, Dr Hooper?" His finger took place on the trigger, lightly tapping it, trying to scare her.

This time, she did pause, forming her words twice, three times over in her head, constructing them as perfectly as she could. "Because you have a gun to my head and you've not pulled the trigger yet." She sidestepped, turned, and quickly grabbed the gun from his hand. His arm dropped to his side as hers held the gun up, pointing it at his head. "Because you let me take your pistol..." She took steps towards him until the tip of the barrel was touching the centre of his forehead. "Because you have let put your life at my fingertips." She tapped the trigger. "Because you aren't scared of me ... and I'm not scared of you."

He smirked, his eyes glistening with amusement and something else she couldn't detect. She smiled and dropped the gun to the basement floor. She kicked it out of her way and closed the distance between she and the consulting criminal. Her brown eyes flickered up to his. "Mr Moriarty, I think I fancy you."

Her fingers came up to play with the lapel of his Westwood suit. Her other hand moved to hold his cheek. His own hand moved to her waist and she laughed, soft, knowing.

She said, "I think we both know where this is going." Her lips pressed to his as she got up on her toes, the hand at his lapel tugging him closer as her eyes closed.

Both hands on her waist, he tugged her as close as she could get to him as he kissed her back, his passion fiery. It was unknown before, his passion. He had only just discovered it as his victim held a gun to his head. Fearless, dangerous, she was a new born criminal, all because of him. And he was more than happy to accept her into his network.