A/N: Happy New Year, darlings :) Thank you for the kind reception to my previous Molliarty fic. For those who've remembered me in my absence from writing fic in general, thank you for still being ever so sweet and encouraging to me. It's been a rough year, but I'm looking forward to getting better. Sending my love to one and all. x
A Beginning
It was not often that Jim found himself in a fix. If anything, he was the master of getaways, literally getting away with every crime he had committed – or helped commit. Furthermore, Jim could not recall the last time he had felt anxious. As a man who always found a solution to everything, this was a perplexing situation he found himself in.
"Sir?" the voice of one of his peons broke his train of thought.
"Hmm?" he answered, somewhat distractedly as he looked up from his desk.
"The mission was a success and we're ready for your inspection."
"Ah yes, the spoils of war…" Jim murmured.
"The car is waiting for you, Sir."
"Excellent."
All through the car ride to one of his secret safe houses, Jim's troubled mind continued to whir on. The safe house was empty today, save for the usual security and staff that manned the place. Today had not been a day for prisoner or hostage-taking. Instead, Jim was ushered to a vault at the basement of the building. Stepping into the cold, grey-walled vault, the eyes of a pre-occupied Jim Moriarty merely glanced over the towers of cash and bags of jewels that had been the catch of the day. He almost looked unimpressed in spite of the rather impressive loot displayed before him.
"Is that all?" he said, clicking his tongue casually as his perfectly polished Prada oxfords stepped heedlessly over spilled stacks of pound notes.
In answer to his question, a staff member directed Jim to a small table beside the mountain range of treasure. On it was a very small safe, pristine and unopened.
"What have we here then?" Jim asked, a spark returning to his eyes as the challenge of an unopened safe set his little worry aside for a moment.
He ran his hands gently over the cool metal exterior of the safe, smirking to himself as his mind spun, studying the dial of the safe and working out the combinations in his head. Jim Moriarty never had to break into safes. He merely opened them.
"There…" he whispered to himself, satisfied as he heard the final click of the dial and the glorious sound of the internal catch being released. Slowly, he pulled the metallic door open and his eyes brightened in curiosity at the small velvet pouch that lay in the centre of the safe. Jim reached for the pouch and undid the butterfly knot at its neck. With the mouth of the pouch open, he spilled the contents out onto his palm and gasped softly at what he saw.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Jim, looking up from his palm and turning to the row of staff behind him. "I congratulate you on a job very well done."
The pleasure that filled Jim from head to toe was not from the sheer beauty of the rare and beautifully-cut ruby that lay glittering on his palm. Instead, it came from the immense relief that his conundrum was now over.
With his problem solved and well behind him now, Jim Moriarty could hardly believe the new wave of anxiety that started to creep under his skin again.
"I don't like this at all," he muttered to himself, tapping his foot in frustration. Still, he knew what lay ahead of him and, against every instinct he had, extended his gloved finger and pressed the doorbell in front of him.
"Jim! Hi! Come in, come in…"
Her voice alone reminded him why he had texted her if to see if he could come see her and why he was now stood outside her door late at night on New Year's Eve.
"Thanks Molly," he said with a genuine smile as he wiped his feet and stepped into her lovely, warm flat.
Molly had already gotten tea ready and poured them each a cup as they settled on her sofa.
"So, how was the New Year's Eve do?" he asked, reaching for his tea.
"The same as they always are. Clichéd and uneventful," she answered with a shrug.
"Is that why you're home before midnight?" said Jim with a little chuckle.
"How clever you are, Jim Moriarty," she answered with a laugh of her own.
"I'm sorry I couldn't go with you…"
"I'm rather glad you didn't actually," Molly remarked, sipping her tea.
"Oh? Why?"
"You'd have been so bored," laughed Molly, "And I would have felt bad."
"Never feel bad for me, Molly," Jim answered, smiling at her.
"I'll remember that."
Jim sat up and reached for the pot of tea, proceeding to refill their cups.
"So, what brings you here so suddenly?" asked Molly.
"Would it be too nauseating to say it was because I missed you?" Jim remarked with a teasing glint in his eyes.
His words caused Molly to laugh, almost spilling her cup of tea. She then put her cup down and leaned forward to kiss him gently on the cheek.
"And would it be too nauseating to reply with a kiss?" she asked, smiling against his cheek.
It was his turn to chuckle heartily as he turned to take her face in his hands so as to kiss her properly on the lips.
"If you must know," said Jim softly after their mouths parted ways, "I just wanted to see you. An office romance isn't purely restricted to the office, I've been told."
"We must be telepathic then," Molly replied, amused.
"How so?" asked Jim, slightly confused.
"Because I wanted to see you too."
Her words lit a quiet fire in his chest, almost causing him to blush. Thankfully, the cold blood that made Jim Moriarty Jim Moriarty contained the flush in his cheeks. Jim really did not like this at all. Yet, here he was – sipping tea with what should have been a prop in his grand scheme but who was now the very centre of his existence.
"Also," he said, remembering what he had really come to do, "I have something for you."
Reaching into his pocket, Jim took out a familiar velvet pouch and placed it firmly in Molly's hands.
"A little something," he said, somewhat bashfully, "for you."
Molly stared at what he had placed in her hands before looking up gratefully at him.
"May I open it?" she asked, her eyes shining in excitement.
"Please," he answered, trying to hide the nerves from before that now resurfaced.
After she had carefully undone the knot, Molly tipped the pouch as a silver necklace with a pendant slid out into her palm. With gentle fingers, Molly lifted the necklace to examine the pendant and her eyes blinked in wonder at how beautiful it was.
There, hanging from a silver chain that Molly held in her fingers, was a miniature but anatomically accurate heart carved intricately out of silver. Not only was it perfectly carved with its details of veins and arteries, embedded just slightly off-centre of it was the exquisite ruby Jim had uncovered from before.
"My god, Jim," Molly whispered, completely mesmerised by the work of art in her hands.
"Is it too much? I knew I'd overdone it—"
"Rubbish," interrupted Molly.
"It is, isn't it? Maybe I should've—"
"Jim!" exclaimed Molly, smiling at him, amused, "You're quite the fool for someone so intelligent."
Jim had not realised that the waves of anxiety had finally peaked into this moment where he was sure he had gotten everything wrong. It angered him further how much he yearned for her to be happy with his gift.
"So…" he began, a little unsteadily.
"So," Molly continued for him, "I absolutely love it."
With that, she turned to him and moved to kiss him again, smiling when she felt his smile against her lips.
"It's so beautiful, Jim. Thank you," said Molly.
"I'm glad," he replied, as he finally began to relax.
"I've never seen anything like this," Molly continued in wonder as she began to study the pendant. "And this ruby is just—I have no words for how beautifully it gleams even in my flat's awful lighting
Jim laughed at her comment and gently took the necklace from her. He gestured to her to sweep her hair aside so he could put the necklace on for her. Carefully, he fixed the tiny clasps of the necklace behind her neck and was relieved to see it did suit her.
"I have to ask, Jim…" Molly said, picking the pendant up between her fingers.
"Yes?"
"It looks so expensive. Did you rob a very rich person or something?" she asked with a laugh.
Jim had to blink and compose himself. For a moment, he had forgotten that she still had no clue as to the nature of his real, IT-unrelated occupation. Her joke had, in fact, been fact.
"I did, actually," he said with smirk, watching in amusement at Molly's expression of mock horror. "If it's any consolation, she wasn't a very pleasant rich person."
Chuckling at his answer, Molly looked down at her pendant and smiled to herself.
"Well, I am touched you would go to such lengths for me," Molly remarked, amused.
"Anything for you, Molly," Jim replied.
It was true, though. Jim had decided he probably would do anything for her. Had that not been the idea behind his gift? Love – and all its nauseating sentiment – was far too visceral a concept for him to handle and yet, with her, it was impossible not to consider it. She was the gem embedded in that heavy, iron heart of his.
"Oh," Molly exclaimed suddenly.
"What?" Jim asked, sitting up with a start.
"It's midnight," answered Molly.
"And so it is," Jim concurred, checking his watch.
The pair looked at each other and the corners of their lips lifted into smiles. They had not expected to meet this evening, much less cross into the new year together but it seemed now that they had. For Jim, he had not expected to want to begin the new year this way.
"Happy New Year, darling," whispered Molly as she surprised him with a quick kiss on his temple.
Darling, he thought. Had his insides not already been on fire he was sure he would have melted into her sofa.
"And a Happy New year to you too…darling," he repeated, turning to kiss her on her beautiful lips.
For Jim Moriarty, this was certainly a new beginning, in more ways than one.
END
