What You Took From Me

The Night We Met

            Sebastian Moran sat, feet propped up on the coffee table- something Jim would’ve yelled at him for. It was dark inside the living room, just the way he preferred it theses days because with the lights on, he saw Jim’s face everywhere. Knowing he would see him again, it tormented Sebastian to no end and made his trigger finger twitch. God, if it wasn’t for Moriarty, honestly, Sebastian would’ve killed the Holmes’ brothers three times over and the people they loved while they watched. But no, Jim has a very specific plan that Sebastian needed to follow. If Moriarty wasn’t the sick twisted bastard he knew, Sebastian would’ve said screw it already and killed them, but he knew, he knew Moriarty’s plan would be well worth it.

            As Sebastian drank the piss warm whiskey, letting the liquid burn its way down his throat, thinking about the first time he ever met Moriarty. It was so long ago, back when it wasn’t all about murder. It was about mayhem- murder is what kept them together though- and lust. Sebastian had just been discharged from the army, dishonorably- they said he fired on one of their own on purpose, but they couldn’t prove anything- and he was at a dingy bar. The music was loud, but the crowd was even louder. In the back there were a bunch of bikers being hustled by some kid who honestly couldn’t be twenty one at a game of pool.

            When they bikers finally realized they were being played, they slipped on some brass knuckles and began surrounding the kid. Those bastards were all going to ruin his peace, so he stood, getting ready to stop the fight- because this totally had nothing to do with the fact that he really just wanted to bash someone’s face in. But the bikers were faster then Sebastian had anticipated.

            The bikers pounded, but a few stumbled back holding their throats or their stomachs, some of them bleeding- not mortally, though if they didn’t get to the hospital soon, it could be. All Sebastian could do was stare in awe. This kid really was a con-artist, by looks and brains. This kid looked barely old enough to be in here, as if his parents were in the back of the bar doing to the owner’s taxes, while he waited to go to Sunday school. He was lean, almost a little scrawny, dressed in a suit and tie- all black. It was insanity that this kid was doing all of this!

            By the time the bikers scattered, Sebastian had prayed the kid was over eighteen at least because he was head over heels in lust, ready to stick his dick and that kids ass. In the past, Sebastian wasn’t the type to approach any man or woman he was interested in, always left that up to them, but this time, his feet were just moving.

            “Hey, kid; how old are you?” Sebastian demanded as he the kid turned around. There was a mad smile curling up his lip, insanity blazing brightly in his big brown eyes. If it wasn’t for that look, Sebastian would’ve never believed that it was this kid who had taken on the bikers- that someone else must’ve slipped in.

            “My name is not kid, thank you,” the kid replied calmly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “My name is James Moriarty. Something I figure you ought to know if you were trying to fuck me.”

            For the first time, being this close, Sebastian could hear the thick Irish accent. It was quite the turn on as he wondered if this James stole some leprechaun’s luck to win that fight, or if perhaps it was just in his heritage.

            “That’ required caring about those you fuck,” Sebastian remarked casually, causing Moriarty to smirk.

            “In that case, follow me,” James said, slipping past Sebastian.

            Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian followed like an entranced puppy. He followed Moriarty to an S.U.V, a nice one, fresh off the lot, radiating in the light of the streetlamps above.

            “Yours?” Sebastian inquired, quite impressed.

            Moriarty turned his head, looking back at Sebastian, a sly look crossing his face. He cackled and shook his head as he popped the backseat door open, only impressing Sebastian further. James slipped in and Sebastian crawled in afterwards, shutting the door behind him. As he did, the kid whipped his hand across Sebastian’s face, leaving it hot and tingly, before James grabbed Sebastian’s shirt collar and jerked him close until they were kissing.

            Sebastian remembered how pissed off the S.U.V’s owner was when he finally came out of the bar he’d been in, find his brand new car a hot, sticky mess inside. Sebastian and Moriarty had stuck around just to see it, and nearly lost it when the owner asked them if they’d seen what happened because apparently they looked like decent enough citizens. They cackled and snickered like devil’s and witches as they watched the rampage.

            That night, neither of them gave out their number, nor any way of further contact. It would be a good couple of months before they happened across each other again, a crime scene Sebastian later figured out Moriarty was the cause of. It was the perfect chance to show off his skills- not yet with a gun, but yet again in the sack.

            The thought, the memory made Sebastian smile, just a little. Times had been simpler back then. A murder here, a murder there. Then the damn Holmes’ brothers came into the picture.

            Sebastian shook his head, taking another drink of his whiskey. It burned, tasting sour now, taking a turn with his mood. He let out a heavy sigh and finished off his drink in one bitter swig and set the glass down with a heavy thud before getting up. Time for bed, unfortunately. Tomorrow things would be set into motion. The fun could begin. It would be as if Jim never left and he could really mentally screw with the Holmes brothers.