I Need a Gangsta//Jim Moriarty

IX. "Let's Kill Tonight."

"What do you see?"

"Judging by the state of his hands he's obviously a doctor. Crease lines on his forehead reveal he is overly stressed, however this stress seems to have gotten involved in his home life. He has a tan line around his left ring finger and he reeks of brandy. His clothes are expensive but worn out. He's had them for years."

"Good. Very good. And him?"

"Just quiet smoking, judging by the way he always has to keep his hands busy. He comes from a rather large family. His clothes are obviously hand-me-downs, he also has a need to prove himself that he is just as special as his siblings. Childs play. Now, my dear Jim . . . how about this lovely lady."

"She's a product of abuse."

Amalthea looked at Jim as if expecting more. When he didn't elaborate, she spoke. "Don't be dull. Give me details. You only look on the surface because you have it in your mind no one is worth a second glance. The way to truly use all your mental capacity is to see what everyone else refuses to see. You must understand."

"Very well. She had a rough home life. A child of molestation and abuse. I can tell by all the layers of clothes and how she glances at everyone that comes in skin contact with her. She grew up and got into the same kind of marriage. There's a fading bruise on her cheek that I'm guessing she didn't recieve falling down the stairs. Satisfied?"

"Hm," she hummed. "You missed the most important detail of all."

"What do you mean?" Jim snapped, appalled that someone would challenge his intellect.

"Look at her hand placement and her stance."

He did so and slowly closed his eyes in stupidity.

"She's an officer," Amalthea smiled. "You were right about her childhood. However that bruise is from a drug bust that she did. The bottom of her shoes have a white substance stuck to them and she doesn't appear to be hiding her bruise in a way a person being abused would. But there's a fire in her eyes. She finally got to the point she realized she wasn't going to let anyone lay a hand on her again. You were too quick to assume. Though people are rarely as smart as us, it is still a weakness that could lead to your demise."

Amalthea took a sip of her tea and stared over at Moriarty across the cafe table.

He grinned at her. "My, my," he said. "I must admit, having another person around that I can talk to is different."

"Likewise."

The door to the cafe opened and in stepped a middle aged, well dressed man. He had three friends with him.

"I'm gonna go get us more tea," Amalthea said. She stood and got in line. The guys glanced back at her and the first one wolf whistled.

"Are those thighs on the menu?" His friends laughed and another one added. "I'd prefer the breasts!"

Amalthea rolled her eyes. "Honestly, don't you boys have to get back to your job as man-whores."

"Ahhh, don't be like that, darlin," one said. "It's just, when we see a fine piece of ass, we have to say something. Right boys!" He reached over and smacked Anthea's butt.

Anthea stood there for a moment. When she was about ready to break all the bones in their body's, she felt a hand rub the small of her back.

"Problem gentlemen?" Moriarty asked. Amalthea could tell he was beyond angry by the way he gripped her waist and how his eyes looked at them murderously.

"Woah, man, we don't want no trouble. We were just admiring your pretty lady here. You're a lucky man. If you ever get tired of him, sweetheart, just give me a call." He handed her his number with a wink.

Moriarty pulled her out of there quickly.

"You okay?" Amalthea asked. He didn't say a word, just pulled her into an alley and kissed her hungrily. She returned the affection and then he pulled away.

"How do you feel about a game of murder tonight?"
                     °         °         °
"Are we having fun yet?!" Moriarty yelled. They had found the house the four men went to, with help from Sebastian. Amalthea and Moriarty had them all tied up.

"Now, what you did today was not nice," Moriarty grinned. He pulled out a hammer from his bag of toys.

"I thought you didn't like to get your hands dirty?" Amalthea chuckled.

"For these gentlemen, I'm gonna make an exception." He brought the hammer down on one of them and began to beat him senseless.

Amalthea watched and once he was done she pulled out a revolver, took out all bullets, except two and clicked it in place.

She then pointed it at one of the three remaining men.

"How about a game?"

Click

He flinched. His eyes squeezed shut and his muscles tensed.

She chuckled and began to whistle.

Click

"Why are you doing this?!" he yelled.

"Because you must he taught manners. How to respect women. I gave you respect and in return you act like scum," Amalthea said calmly.

Click

"I'm sorry," he sobbed.

"Too late."

Bang!

His head rolled back as blood began pouring from the bullet hole. Amalthea then turned the gun on the second guy.

Bang!

The last one remaining was the one that had touched Amalthea.

Moriarty walked beside her and held out the hammer. She wrapped her fingers around it and turned to the shaking man.

"You stupid slu-Ah!" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before her hammer met his knee cap.

She began to slam it down again and again and again. Blood stained her clothes and some had sprayed her cheek.

Once he was long gone she dropped the hammer, taking deep breaths. Moriarty took her hand and guided her outside. He then lit a match and held it out. Amalthea wrapped her fingers around his and they threw it.

They watched as flames engulfed the house, leaving everything in ashes. Moriarty leaned down and kissed Amalthea.

"This is only the beginning, my dear. . .We will be legends. Let this be a warning that any man that dares try to take you away from me."