Jim Moriarty [1]

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She stood up, carelessly reaching for his abandoned shirt on the floor, and shrugged it over her nude body, leaving the white fabric open and unbuttoned, not caring about the wide revealing windows to her left, as they were on the fourteenth floor.

"Put the kettle on, would you, darling?" He called from the bed, the sheets covering his own nudity as he held his laptop in front of him, the hours they had spent rolling in the sheets had made him eager to work. One of his favorite things about Lila was her ability to make him focus.

"Tell me you bought coffee since last time I was here, Jimmy." She whined over her shoulder, exiting the bedroom to walk across the hall to the kitchen. "You know I hate tea."

"Calm your knickers, darling. I had the cleaning lady buy your coffee." He rolled his eyes, typing away on his computer. "Now shut up, I'm busy."

Lila smirked to herself, beginning to complete her routine whenever she spent the night at her lover's. Tall with shoulder length dark hair and dark brown eyes and caramel coloured skin, Lila King was a trained assassin and hacker, orphaned at a young age and brought up as a criminal. She met Jim Moriarty when she was eighteen years old, the man being eleven years her senior, and he recruited her, having been told about her rumoured genius. For two years, Lila and Jim were nothing but employer and employee, Lila finding Jim's cruel and sociopathic behaviour irritating and unpredictable. Until he prevented her from being arrested and caught by the British Government, and while she was sure at first it was because he didn't want his own name being mentioned, she then realized he was wanted himself, and her rank in his network wasn't high enough for him to concern himself with her. Jim quickly revealed his attraction, and they began a love affair, which was even saying too much.

They had sex.

Lila didn't know what she felt for her boss, but love wasn't what she called it. She knew he was somewhat fond of her, but his own affection wasn't that strong. They often spent months separated and neither called one another, talking for hours about life and dreams. Lila got calls about jobs, and she knew next to nothing about Jim's personal life, only that he was currently happily attempting to ruin the life of a consulting detective by the name Sherlock Holmes. Lila had climbed the ranks in the last eight years since she started sleeping with Jim, but she knew it was less as a reward, but more because of his growing trust in her. He slept beside her; if she wanted to kill him or do something, she would've by now. Lila had seen enough of Jim's contacts to turn against him, he always won whatever game he was playing. The man hated losing. It was childish honestly.

Having spent six months uncover in America to find blueprints for a job, Lila had come back to London to find him already here. Locked in his hotel room for thirteen hours was time well spent, she thought, and the only company they had other than each other was Sebastian Moran, who occasionally popped in to inform Jim of the working developments of his current development. Lila was tired and sore, but she found that after half a year of no sex and using her mind, she needed to loosen up. She didn't know if Jim slept with other people, she only knew it took a lot for someone to attract her. She wasn't picky. Someone with the brains of pulling her in. So far, other than a few pointless flings in her adolescent years, the only ones to successfully bed her was her current lover and Irene Adler, a one night stand that she regretted afterwards, due to the whip scars she had received on her back. Lila enjoyed some kinky stuff, but Adler went too far.

"What are you doing today?" She called him call out from the bedroom, just as Lila was making her own coffee and his tea.

She paused, sipping her drink. "I'm assuming whatever I had planned is being pushed back."

Jim exited the bedroom, just zipping up his pants, his computer under one arm. "That's my girl." He smirked, winking. "I plan on meeting Sherlock today."

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