Consulting Sniper (Moran's Story)

Chapter 12: The Gunman

My semester working as Professor Jim Moriarty's teacher assistant went by relatively uneventfully. But when we reached the end of the semester, I almost never saw Moriarty again.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" Jim asked me on the last day of the semester. "You're fantastic to work with. Can I keep you as my Personal Assistant so that maybe it would be allowed or something?!"

"Well what are you teaching next semester?" I asked. I wasn't really into breaking the rules this early in my Oxford career.

"A computer science class that you may need to take to fulfill your general education requirements. Take that class!"

"I don't know, I'm not good with computers in the least bit..."

"You have to! I've never had a TA who... You're fantastic. Even if you don't do well, you have to still talk to me and stuff because YOU know what you're doing. My other TAs were all morons... Not you. Never you."

"Well, thank you very much. It was great working with you," I said.

"I have to tell you something though. I saw your résumé a few days ago. Not your student résumé. Your work one. The one where you detail your experience with guns."

My stomach sank about six feet underground. "You did?"

"You're a guard, if I'm not mistaken. Military-training... Discharged. A hunter? Maybe. You killed a tiger. You're a hunter."

"I've never brought guns on campus, Jim. I swear."

"Oh, that's not what I'm getting at! Not at all! I'm just impressed is all. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. A lot of reasons."

"You're a gunman. It's who you are! Why would you go so far out of your way to not let me find that out?"

"Many more reasons."

"Well, it's alright. I understand your reasoning. But it's good that you let me find out. You may be of good use to me in the future, even outside the classroom... Anyway, I'm glad you'll consider taking my class. I think you'll really get a lot out of it," Jim said, recovering.

Jim Moriarty and I walked out of the college together. Our cars were parked in the same lot, so we didn't bid each other farewell until we got to the parking lot. Only then did I actually realize that we'd been nearly holding hands.

I got into my car. Did I... Like... Professor Moriarty? No. It'll pass. Like everything else does, I thought.

It still hasn't passed for me now, and it's been over a decade.

But in that day, I wouldn't have known. I wasn't exactly innocent, just unknowing of a few things.

Like love. I didn't know anything about it. Oh, I wasn't Mycroft. She didn't even kiss people. I'd done much, much more than even that. But I didn't like any of the guys. I never thought of them all the time, not the way I thought of Jim all the time. I didn't care about them, or what happened to them after our encounters, or what our future would be. Jim changed me in that respect.

I think that day when I was sitting in my car in the parking lot, I realized I cared about Jim. At least a little bit. Well, I still wouldn't die for him. But if he'd missed a day to be sick, I'd notice. Something like that.

When the next semester began and Jim and I reunited, we had to catch each other up on everything going on in our lives. I told him about how I'd begun practicing shooting again regularly since it kept me from having to practice on real people. Jim thought that was funny.