Jim Moriarty was happy.

He had Sherlock and John tied to two chairs in front of him.

Simple pleasures.

Sherlock was firing off deductions left and right, analyzing every details of Jim and his beloved Westwood. He paused and Jim cocked his head. The Holmes spoke, striving to sound disinterested and bored and failing miserably.

"…The bruises. On your neck. I can't tell…"

It was obvious it was frustrating Sherlock. Not knowing things.

At the mention of the bruises, he smiled knife-sharp at the detective.

"You want to know?" He inquired, already knowing the answer. Sherlock didn't reply and he smiled wider. He noticed John was interested as well. Amusing.

"My boyfriend."

And worth it for the look on the faces. Surprise, shock, revulsion, all flitted along the two men's expressions.

"Want to meet him?" His canines cut the air as he grinned coldly. John managed "Not like there's much else to do. So. I guess." Jim smiled, shrugged, and pulled out his phone. He wasn't about to give Holmes the satisfaction of Sebastian's number, so he just clicked the redial button.

It rang all of two seconds before it was answered and a furious voice echoed off speaker phone.

"Why is my ringtone the Bee Gees.".

Sebastian Moran was not happy.

Two minutes ago, he had been stationed at his sniper, watching Jim talk to Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson through the crosshairs.

Simple pleasures.

That was until he saw Jim pull his phone from his pocket. For a brief moment he wondered who he was calling when /his/ phone started screeching 'Staying Alive'.

Oh HELL no.

That bastard.

He grabbed the phone, answering as fast as possible so his cover wasn't blown.

And his eardrums didn't burst.

Before Jim could say anything he ground out, "Why is my ringtone the Bee Gees."

"But Sebbbb-"

"No, Jim. first you change my ringtone. You know I hate that. Then you set it at full volume. Thanks. Then you set me surveillance. Then you call me during work."

"But Bastian this could be an important call. I could need someone assasinated." Jim whined and Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"You realize I'm on top of the building across. And I can see you. That means I can see you prank calling me while I'm working."
"Take a break."
"…You're my boss."
"Yes, so I can tell you to take a break."
"…Whatever. Fine.
"So why are you calling me? To annoy me?"

"…Perhaps." Sebastian snorted and he could practically feel Jim pouting from all the way across the street.

"Alright then. Fine. If you're aiming to annoy, you've hit the mark. And since I'm on break I'm putting Chelsea away." He heard a distinct snort from the other end.

"I can't belive you name your guns."

"Hey!" Came Moran's indignant reply, "If you can name your fucking knife collection I can name my guns."

"Don't see what you see in those things…" He heard Jim mutter.

"Boss, no offense, but you have no taste. None. I had hoped it was restricted to music. Too bad."

"But it's my jam! And you're not one to be insulting my taste, pet."

"That," Sebastian said, licking his lips, "is completely different."

"In what possible way?"
"It is widely accepted that tall, blond, ex-army chaps that have lots of scars and muscle are a good catch. Not the same can be said for a fucking psychopathic criminal who insists I make everyone into shoes."

"You think I'm a psychopath?" Jim asked dejectedly and Sebastian almost smiled.

"No. But it adds to the effect, don't you think?"

"Yes it does. Very dramatic. But all the other minions say I'm a psychopath…" Jim sounded halfway between whining and depression.

"Love, you're not a psychopath. They just think that because they can't handle you. Everyone knows I'm the only person capable of that."

"I should just have you make them all into shoes," Jim muttered and Sebastian could see in his mind's eye the way that Jim scrunched his face up as he said this.

"That probably isn't a very good idea, Jim. They just think because you could order a baby to be killed for no reason and not feel bad, you don't have feelings like them."

"Yeah, I have feelings too!"
"No arguement here. Come home to broken mirrors and bloody hands and a knife pushed through my arm too many times to deny that."

"…I'm not going to apologize." His voice was hollow and Sebastian looked at his shoes.

"I don't want you too."

"Bastian, please." And just like that, he was joking around, like nothing had happened. Sebastian half-smiled.

"Nothing beats having an omnipotent psychopathic genius crime boss for a boyfriend, yeah?"

"You flatter me."

"Part of the job description." Sebastian paused.

"What was that card you were flipping around this morning?"
"Ah ah ah. Need to know, Bastian."
"…Sure, boss.
"If this is all we're going to do, can I just go back to the flat? Play with Sherlock and his doctor some other day."

"Are you bored of me, Colonel?" His tone still had a playful lilt to it, but Sebastian recognized the chilling undertone that meant things could go very bad, very fast.

"Never."

"Good."

"…Why were you calling again?" He heard a loud sigh from Jim's end and rolled his eyes "Sherlock wanted to deduce me."

"And this involves me, how?"

"Oh Moran," Sebastian restrained a snort at that. Condescending much? "Don't tell me you believe these bruises came from a client?"

"I'd never let anyone touch you, you know that." He growled his knee-jerk reaction and Moriarty only hummed. Sebastian came to a full stop when it sunk in. His head hit the edge of the roof and he ran a hand through his hair, blushing. "I'm having flashbacks."

"To what, sweetheart? Is it the tigers?"

"Of that time you called me while you were giving that banker a 'talking to'."

He could hear the purr on Jim's voice before tthe man even spoke.

"Oh, yes, that was fun. We really should do it again."

"No. No. Not happening, Jim."

"He was out cold the whole time! I don't see why you're so upset." He pouted. "Is your head alright?"

"It's fine. God. This rooftop is only made out of like, plaster."

"I shouldn't have worrried. With that skull of yours, you'll be fine." Sebastian sighed long-sufferingly. His phone pinged, telling him someone was texting him."

"Who is it?"
"Davis. Says mister Kaile didn't take us up on the offer. Needs cleaners."

Jim sounded annoyed and angry at being interrupted. "Parker's team was supposed to be there! Tell Cooper to shoot her and get down there already." Moran swore he heard him mutter something about 'bloody stupid incompetents' and grinned.

"Yes sir." He texted Moriarty's instructions and got a terse confirmation.

"Done. Parker says they were covering for Scott's team."
"Why the fuck do they need to cover?!"
"You had them killed yesterday, so Hill didn't have any cleaners when he did the Thomson job."
"Oh."

Sebastian snorted.

"Well, that's what your for, babe." He raised an eyebrow and Jim elaborated. "Keeping track of all that."

"God knows you make it difficult enough."
"You can take it."

Sebastian didn't take it as a compliment, because it wasn't. They both knew if he couldn't take it, he'd have been dead for a long time now.

"What were we talking about?" Sebastian shrugged, even though Jim couldn't see him. He probably knew. He always does. Another voice on the phone supplied the information.

"You had mentioned flashbacks."

"Yeah Jim, you really need to quit…" He trailed off, realising that hadn't been Jim's voice. He heard Jim's insane little giggle and his trigger finger twitched. Good thing it wasn't on the trigger.

"Oh Bastian I'm glad you put Chelsea away. Otherwise you'd have accidentally shot me."
"…Why didn't I guess."

Another giggle.

"You wanker."

"Oh Bastian you know I hate it when you flatter me so," Jim sing-songed lightheartedly.

"…Also. I wouldn't have shot you. It would have been the detective. You told me to keep it on him."

"Oh Bastian like you could resist the chance to watch me through your sniper scope." He snickered and Sebastian's face was burning.

"…Git." The blush was hot in his voice, and the detective and blogger would definitely hear it. "And I bet you just winked saucily even though I'm not there, didn't you."

"Oh you know me so well." His voice shifted slightly and he continued, his voice like the smile of a shark, "Though if your twitchy trigger finger shoots someone when I haven't told you to, I will skin you alive and throw you to the tigers."

Sebastian answered coolly, "Yes sir."

"Good." And with that, he was back to joking and flirting with him.

"Oh Bastian you have so many flaws."
"Not too many, I hope."
"Hmm. You're not boring though. And you'll do anything I ask. That's good."
"Of course sir. Why would I object?"
"Good boy."
"And my flaws, then?"
"Your twitchy finger, of course. And that horrible thing with the hot sauce."

"Hey, I never ask you to eat it," he said defensively.

"Thank God. I might have had to shoot you if you did."
"What else?"
"Seeking to perfect yourself? It won't work."
"I know sir. Just nice to know."
"Hmm, well. The way you handle your guns."
"Respect is a good thing! They have control over your life! They are the pinnacle of weaponry. They deserve to be handled respectfully."
"Knives are better."

"Shut up, Jim. I'm not explaining this again. Ask anyone that's been in the army. Knives are..." He didn't want to say anything horrible, beacause Jim would take that as a personal slight. He settled on "…certainly not the best option availible. They're sharp and small and easy to lose or cut yourself on. and they're nuch too messy."

"All about the clean kill, aren't you, Colonel." Sebastian flinched. He was in trouble. "Don't flinch."
"Yes sir."
"Hmph. Knives are superior to guns. They're sharp and small and easy to carry and conceal. They have much more variety than your precious firearms do, and much prettier too. They shine when they hit the light. They're very dramatic. Very bloody."
"They alert your prey when they shine. They're useless against larger targets. When you throw one that's the only one you have, unless you bother to carry around an arsenal."

Jim made an amused noise. "This isn't about the superior weapon at all. It's about the tigers isn't it? Didn't you ever take on down with a knife?"

"Yes," Sebastian replied distastefully, "I did. That's how I got claws right across my chest and earned that pretty scar you love so much. Some one else had to shoot it and then pull me out from under it. I bet you've never been under a heavy, dead, sweaty, bleeding tiger, Jim. It sucks."

"Oh. I see. It's because someone had to save you. Not so strong in close range, huh, Bastian?"
"Shut the fuck up, Jim. That toy soldier who 'valiantly' saved me got eaten by Delilah the next day."
"Oh, Delilah?"
"The one who was stalking the camp. She had a nice pelt on her. Went for a lot once I got back to London."
"I'm sure she's lying beautifully on someone's floor now, all thanks to you."
"Yup. Almost had her stuffed, but taking a massive, dead tiger across the ocean with you, in the same ship as you and a dozen other men, would not be pleasent."

"Oh the sacrifices you make." Jim's sarcasm was very evident.

"I still lament my decision to this day." He answered solemnly. His phone pinged again.

"What now?" Jim asked, annoyed "Lloyd. Says the Yard's on the move. Wrap it up, Jim."

"Ugh. Fine. I didn't even get to do anything."
"S'your own fault."

Jim made a whining sound and Moran rolled his eyes. he snapped his rifle's case shut and Moriarty noticed.

"Sure, pack Chelsea away. Get the fuck down here."

"Coming, boss." He hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket. His cigarette had burned down while they were talking, and he lit up a new one. He hefted the case onto his back and started to descend out of the abandoned building.
He strolled across the empty street and clicked open the door. Before he had even stepped in, Jim had already made a horribly fake and theatrical choking sound that Sebastian rolled his eyes at.

"I do not want you smoking that stuff near me. It's revolting."

"I can smoke all I fucking want. It's an abandoned warehouse you'll never come to again, not our flat."

When he looked up from his cigarette he saw the detective and doctor tied up on chairs and Jim making a disgusted face at him. He loomed over his boyfriend and stuck his face down close to his. Moriarty didn't shrink away, just gave him a cold calculating look, a grimace on his face.

Before Sebastian knew what had happened, his cheek was stinging and his ears were ringing and his face was turned away. He didn't react, only flicked his fingernails over his cheek, straightening up to stand at his full height. He tasted metal and knew his cheek was bleeding in his mouth. His teeth ached and he gave Jim a half-smile.

"Nearly got a tooth on that one, boss."

Jim glared up at him, and Sebastian almost grinned at their height difference. He just pulled the stick out of his mouth and breathed out a lungful of smoke at the ceiling.

"You'll get cancer."

Sebastian arched an eyebrow at Jim's pout and grudging concern.

"I'll die before that happens." They both knew that was only too true.

"If you do - get cancer that is - I'll rip you apart with my bare hands to see what it really does to your lungs."

"Would expect nothing less of you, boss. Nice to know you care."

Jim's mouth twitched and Sebastian grinned around his cigarette. Jim sighed and slipped into Business mode.

"Call Morgan for the car."

"Done, sir."

"Get them."

"Yes sir." He stepped over to Sherlock and the blogger. John was looking at him wide-eyed, and Sherlock's eyes were narrowed at him, desperately trying to analyze him. He lifted the two chairs up easily and strode after Moriarty, who was already out the door. He tipped the chairs down out on the sidewalk. A sleek black car was waiting for them parked in the street right in front of them.

Moriarty grinned at the two captives and said, "Don't bother memorizing the license plate, boys. We'll be dumping it at the next block anyway."

The driver leaned over, sliding down a black window just far enough for her voice to seep out.

"Mister Moriarty sir, miss Barker wants to make a deal."

"Good," Morairty replied smugly, "Drive us there in a moment."

The window rolled back up tight. Sebastian slouched next to Moriarty, palm on the car door handle. Jim grabbed his ear and pulled his face down towards him, frowning and standing on the tip of his toes to reach his sniper. Sebastian smiled and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, leaning down graciously to press his lips to Jim's. They shared a deep kiss and Jim pulled away, grinning evilly at him. Sebastian allowed a smile on his face as Jim dragged a thumb across Sebastian's lips. It came away with flecks of blood from Sebastian's bloody cheek which Jim flicked along his own teeth. Sebastian suppressed a shiver and pulled open the door to the backseat of the car, flicking his still burning cigarette at the two captives's feet. He dipped his head and clambored in, Jim following after him, calling after them out the window as they sped away.

"Until next time, boys!"