Wow, it's been a while since I've posted anything and I'd like to think my writing has greatly improved. This isn't Harry Potter related like my other stories because in the last year or so, I've also found myself spiraling into the Sherlock fandom as well.

This is going to be a short series of ficlets from a one-word writing prompt my friend had made up and I really hope you enjoy them! -Sevvie

Prompt One: "Rain"

It had been pouring for five days straight and Jim could see Sebastian getting restless. He never sent him out when it was raining because a slippery rooftop could end the man's life and Jim didn't want that. But Sebastian needed to be out there, shooting things, creating havoc. Really, he was an adrenalin junkie.

First it had been the bathroom. When Jim went to bed the second night, it had been clean enough to pass as clean. When he woke up though, it was shining and completely spotless and Sebastian had smelt like lemons, passed out on the couch with the box of cleaning supplies on the floor next to him. Apparently, he'd been about to do the kitchen but had taken a small break because after his little kip, Sebastian was scrubbing there too. He even emptied out the fridge, throwing away what needed to be thrown away and cleaning the gunk off the ketchup bottle.

Restless. And still raining.

Second, it had been Sebastian's guns. He cleaned them regularly, even the ones he didn't use often, but this was overkill. He took them all out and made sure there wasn't a speck of dust or a smudge in sight, polishing them until the shined like the bathroom and kitchen did.

Restless. And the rain still hadn't stopped.

It was the fourth day that he started pacing around the house, muttering things under his breath and Jim watched him warily over his book. A pacing Sebastian wasn't a happy Sebastian and a not happy Sebastian was violent. Sometimes he didn't even register what he was doing until he had Jim pinned to the wall by his throat when pacing had gotten to0 tiresome. Jim was lucky this time; Sebastian had just stalked into his room and threw something at the wall with an outraged scream.

Restless. And the rain still poured on.

On the fifth day, Sebastian was so restless he just sat in the kitchen and stared outside, glaring at the rain. The only sign he wasn't as relaxed as he looked was the constant drumming of his fingers on the polished chestnut table. He sat there for hours and hours on end, not getting up to eat or use the washroom.

Jim was in the living room, sat on his chair with his laptop balanced on his legs, scrolling through different stories of people on death row. It amused him, some people's last wishes or last meals. A single blueberry was one and it was hilarious, finding himself chuckling softly when he saw sudden movement and the scrape of a chair on hard wood flooring. His eyes narrowed, glaring at his employee because what if he'd scratched the floors and they had to be replaced? Again.

Sebastian just growled at the glare and rushed into his room with long, determined strides. It didn't take much wondering what the man was up to because he re-emerged seconds later, tucking his favourite revolver into his torn up jeans.

All that was said, in a voice rough from lack of talking over the past few days, was: "Don't wait up."

As if Jim would. He rarely ever did when Sebastian went on his walks. He could be out there for hours, had been gone for two days once, just walking around the city. But he'd never gone out in the rain before, especially not rain like this, coming down in depressing grey sheets with thunder booming and rattling the art on the walls. It concerned Jim and he walked over to the window, just in time to see Sebastian's form disappearing with a long, wispy curl of smoke from the cigarette he must have lit.

Jim sighed and went into the kitchen to find something small to snack on, a little bag of dried banana chips striking his interest and he munched on them as he walked around the manor. It was too big for only two people but Jim adored it, all it's hidden cupboards and the huge library. His footsteps couldn't be heard on the floor like they normally could due to the rain and thunder and it honestly made Jim a bit upset. It may not have shown, but Sebastian's mood had been affecting him greatly, making him get upset at the smallest of things.

He finished his snack and threw the left over bag into the rubbish bin, noting that Sebastian had even taken out the garbage. It was boring, not going outside, not seeing people or watching the cars. A bubble bath sounded nice, relieve some of his tension and relax him so he could just laze around and stare at the ceiling contentedly.

The scent of vanilla surrounded him and Jim sunk further into the warm water, the bubbles up to and tickling his chin and when they popped, more of the sweet, calming smell was released into the air. The lights were dimmed and he knew they wouldn't go out, even if the power went out, because they had a backup generator for cases like that. He had candles lit around the tub, jasmine mixing in with vanilla, and very low in the background there was the soft music of a harp. It was all so relaxing and calm and Jim found himself falling asleep, knowing he had to get out of the tub now despite how nice it felt because there was no Sebastian to save him if he drowned while sleeping, something that had happened more than once.

Jim had been in the bath for an hour and Sebastian still wasn't back. He didn't expect him to be but some company would be nice as he stretched out on the couch, wearing soft flannel pajama pants and a hoodie and reading a book, the reading glasses only Sebastian and his optometrist knew he had perched on his nose. Two more chapters into the slightly boring novel and the click of the lock finally sounded, Jim's eyes slowly moving towards the door where his sniper shuffled in, completely drenched.

"Put your boots by the heater and don't you dare get water on my carpets,"

Sebastian rolled his eyes but did as he was told, not a word spoken until Jim stopped him on his way to the bathroom. There wasn't just water soaking into his shirt and jeans, there was blood too. It wasn't his own but it was still blood.

The poor man had been so bored he'd gone out and killed someone completely innocent to satisfy his hunger for death.

"How many times did you shoot him?" asked Jim as he walked with Sebastian to the bathroom, stopping off in the larger man's room to get clean and dry clothes first.

"Eight. 'e pissed me off. Offered me 'is umbrella so I killed 'im," came the gruff reply and Jim left Sebastian alone now, strolling back to the living room with a bit of a smile on his face.

It was still raining. But Sebastian wasn't restless anymore.