Sebastian POV
The first time I ever saw him was through the sight on a Sniper… usually that would be the last time I ever saw him. But he was different. He stopped the trigger with just one little movement, showing the world that he would have power over anyone… even over me.
Flashback
My phone beeped and I rolled over on the bed, smashing it with hand and sending it flying across the room. That didn't stop it of course, my boss knew about my habit of breaking phones and had made sure I had a phone which was damn near indestructible. I now no longer have an excuse for not reading his texts.
I sighed.
Pushing the duvet off of my head, I emerged from my cocoon snuggled down deep in the warmth of the blankets and sheets and Robert's arms. My partner groaned and hissed,
"Shut that bloody thing off, I'm trying to sleep." I shoved him in the chest, knocking him off the bed and turning away, heading for the bathroom,
"Try and sleep through that." He moaned from where he was lying on the floor, no doubt he would have some bruises on his backside from that… well, some more bruises.
I slammed the en-suite door shut and stretched out the muscles in my back, grinning as my spine cracked satisfyingly and released some of the pressure which had built up overnight… not that we'd slept all that much. I crossed to the shower and climbed straight in, I always slept in the buff – it was just more comfortable, and relaxed as the shower pounded down on me. Robert joined me not much later.
All too soon I was climbing out of the hot steam and my lover's arms and putting on an expensive suit, pausing onto to blow dry and groom my hair. I didn't eat breakfast, I'd get something on the way. My boss rang for the hundredth time but this time I finally picked up,
"Ah, so you've finally deigned to answer my many attempts to contact you." I rolled my eyes, climbing into my expensive Mercedes and checking that all of my work gear was in the back, "didn't they teach you to get up on time in the military?"
"I haven't been in the army for years, Mycroft. I left that crap behind for a life in the secret service… although this isn't much better, nobody ever told me that James Bond lived a life of total boredom and monotony-"
"Well, only you would find a life as an assassin for her majesty the Queen's secret service boring… speaking of which, as you might have guessed, I have an assignment for you. This must be done with total efficiency and by the end of the day, as a personal favour to me."
I raised an eyebrow, pulling the car over. If this was a personal favour to Mycroft Holmes then it was indeed very serious… and it could potentially be very beneficial on my part, he would owe me. Keeping that in mind, and grinning as I did so, I tried to ask casually,
"I'm at your service, Mycroft. I assume this is something to do with your brother…"
I could practically hear him flinching at the other end of the line, he refused to speak about his brother. All of the service knew that the elder Holmes was in mourning… we also knew that Sherlock Holmes had been exactly who he had claimed, we believed in his genius… it was only the idiots out there that didn't and that was because- well… they were idiots. But Mycroft had taken his brother's disgraced name and suicide to heart and we never mentioned it… but I needed to know,
"Yes… it has everything to do with Sher- with my brother. This matter must be dealt with the utmost delicacy… you may tell nobody about what I am disclosing to you."
"My lips are sealed boss…"
"They had better be, you're not the only sniper in my employment. If word gets out then the whole operation to keep John Watson and all of Sher- of my brother's friends safe from Moriarty's forces will fail."
"Boss, I'm going to die of old age… I thought this was a matter of urgency?"
"It is Sebastian-"
"Then why are you taking so long to tell me my task?"
"Patience is a virtue, especially for an assassin. I need you to understand how important this secret is before I reveal it."
"I absolutely understand now bloody tell me!"
There was silence at the end of the phone and I thought for a second he had become enraged… nobody risked the wrath of Mycroft Holmes, not even the assassins. I was about to back pedal and ensure that I didn't end up lying face down in a ditch, when he replied,
"Moriarty survived. Nobody knows how but he survived and I need you to ensure that that statement no longer applies. I have surveillance on him so I can send you the location. Don't fail me Sebastian."
He hung up and I was left shell shocked, starting at steering wheel. He wanted me to kill Moriarty? THE Moriarty? The men who had evaded a hundred of our best snipers, a man who had almost brought the Government to his knees along with that Adler Woman… a man who had lead to the suicide of the only man, the only GENIUS, who had a hope of beating him? That Moriarty?
But I had agreed, so I simply read the instructions and drove there… my Mercedes silent and dark as it slid through the streets of London, hunting its prey. I found a spot, hidden in shadows, and climbed from the car. I plucked my gear out from the back and glanced across the street. A simple London Bistro, occupied by just one man with his back to me and the waitress who was serving him. I stayed hidden my shadow for a while, checking that he hadn't seen me and that nobody else was coming. One witness to be dealt with, that was all. Good.
I took my suit jacket off, it restricted my arms too much, and began to climb up the fire escape ladder, heading up and up. I had only gotten up an hour ago, late in the afternoon because I always worked nightshifts, and darkness was falling. I found the highest spot and took my seat, perching on the edge and assembling my guns with easy and grace. It wasn't the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last… and it certainly wasn't interesting anymore.
I needed something new, a new adventure and a new life. Working for the government was disheartening and dull but it been the only way to escape prison, after I had attempted to go rogue in the army.
The death of a few civilians might not seem like much but you should have seen the fuss the government made. It was either a life time in prison or ten years working from Mycroft's personal team… I chose the lesser of two evils, although prison might actually be more interesting… more free than this monotonous lifestyle. The only reason I didn't choose it was Robert… he didn't want to be alone… he's needy, he's vulnerable… and he's ordinary, I've outgrown him but I'm waiting for the moment to tell him.
I sat back on my heel, lighting a fag and covering the end with my hand, so as not to give away my position with the brief spurt of light in the gloom. I waited for half an hour, the man never moved even once. I frowned, my third cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth and the sniper rifle grasped loosely in my hand as I leant forward… come to think of it, had he moved at all? The waitress behind the counter hadn't either… it was if both occupants were… corpses.
I span around, realising my mistake, and saw a man far below, leaning against the wall and watching me as I turned the sniper rifle on him, glaring down the sights and cursing that I had missed my opportunity to have Mycroft Holmes owe me a favour – it could have made me rich, it could have given me the chance to never have to work again. Assassinations would become my hobby again, rather than my job. I'd missed that opportunity all because of that man, who had been silently watching me for the last half an hour, a smirk on his lips.
Then he disarmed me… with that single movement, his trademark which he would use every time were looked at each other through my sight. He would look right up through the sight and he would see into my eyes, into my head and into my soul… and then he would give me his characteristic evil smirk and he would wink. Just one. One slow wink. And my finger would freeze.
It was as if he had me under his spell.
End Flashback
We met many times after that, always under the same circumstance. It was a game of cat and mouse, as one of us chased the other... only I was never sure which one I was. You would think that I would be the cat, I had the rifle after all, but yet… I knew he was the one who was leading, he was luring me into his trap. With those handsome dark looks, those Westwood charms and the silky Irish accent which I never heard in person.
In total we met on five different occasions, four of which I failed to do what I had gone there to do.
On the second, I had been irate… I was furious at my failure last time, Mycroft even more so than me. He had demanded that I take another attempt and had sent me to the spot outside Moriarty's flats where the man was currently living. I had waited ten hours in the pouring rain, my gun trained on the front door and my finger locked in position as it waited. Then, finally, he had emerged and I realised… he knew I was there, the whole time. He had left me to wait, to suffer in the rain. And again, he winked and walked away, whistling to himself loud enough for me to hear, from where I sat at the window in the block of flats across him.
The third, I chased him through the streets. He was following someone… a certain someone later revealed to be a supposedly dead detective. Mycroft had been so overjoyed at the news of his brother's survival that he hadn't been able to shout at me for losing Moriarty again. I'd been close that time, but the wink had frozen me and I had stopped chasing him… and he'd disappeared down a side alley, gone before I could finish him off.
The fourth time was much the same as the first, he had actually been in the café this time… and I had thought I was going to manage. I was fuelled by my frustration and my anger… I couldn't understand why I was failing. I was a crack shot, the best in the army many had said, and the most ruthless. I had killed more men than I'd had hot dinners… how do I know this? Every day I have one hot dinner… and I generally kill at least two people on assignment, or for fun. One good thing about working for the government is the cover ups, I don't have to worry about my hobby landing me in prison.
So I didn't know why I was failing to kill him… it should have been easy. It always had been before. Point and shoot, that was I told my recruits in the army and the admirers in the government. Find your target, that's all they are… a target, not a person. Point the gun and pull the trigger. First time killers always tried to complicate things… pointing the gun isn't harming the person, pulling the trigger doesn't hurt anything… it's only the bullet that does the harm and I'm not the one choosing to point it at that person, the gun directs it and the higher ups are the ones who choose where the gun is pointed. So it's not really the sniper doing the sniper doing the killing, it's the superiors and the gun.
I couldn't understand why I was having difficulty then. He was writing something… a small message onto a napkin. I expected him to hold it up but he didn't, he simply winked and walked away – he left me to chase after him, to do the following. He smiled charmingly at the waitress, flirting and slipping the napkin into her hand. She giggled and he employed that same wink on her… and I felt oddly jealous, I didn't understand it.
When he was gone, I climbed down from my position and I headed into the café, smiling at the waitress. I headed over to a table and she came over to take my order,
"Sorry, I must be late… I was planning on meeting my friend here. About five foot eight, dark hair and eyes… expensive suit, did he come in?" She smiled and nodded,
"Yes, he said he had to dash off… he left a note for you, here." She handed me the napkin and I turned it over,
Meet me at your flat in one hour, don't be late. M xxx
I smiled and thanked her, grabbing the bag holding my gun and racing out of the café and to my car. No doubt he was watching me somewhere, excited that I was running after him… well screw him, I was going to make sure I didn't fail this time. I was going to put that bullet into his head from a short range, even if it killed me.
I reached the flat just as the hour was up and forced myself to calm down and slow my beating heart, straightening my suit and flattening my hair. I cleared my throat and headed up the stairs, taking my time and opening the door with a lack of urgency, although my blood was pounding in my ears and my mouth was dry.
He was sat in my armchair, drinking a cup of tea and watching me. It was the first time I'd seen him without a sniper rifle between the two of us… and it was enthralling. He wasn't as wiry as he had first looked, no doubt there was a hidden strength and tone to his body beneath the tailored suit.
His beautiful face was half light by the chink in the curtain and half in shadow. He was strangely enchanting, he had an air of power and seemed to fill the whole room, as if it were his kingdom and he was king over all of the furniture. He looked pointedly at his watch, gorgeous eyes narrowing slightly and lips smirking dangerously,
"You're late." I raised an eyebrow and removed my suit jacket, hanging it up and throwing the bag down, heading over to my pistol's hiding place,
"You didn't give me long to get here…" I reached down behind the desk,
"Oh I wouldn't bother looking there, I took the liberty of removing all the weaponry when I arrived." He quirked his head, "besides, you don't want to kill me."
"Strange, I feel like I want to shoot you between the eyes and pull you lungs out through your nostrils." He chuckled, putting the tea down and standing,
"How delightful! Yes, I think you'll do perfectly…"
"Perfectly for what?" I growled.
He stepped up to stand in front of me… he was a lot smaller than had imagined, much shorter than my six foot four, muscular army built body. But that didn't deceive me… he had more power and control in his little finger than I had in every single pound of muscle in my body. And he demonstrated that by smirking and reducing me to a submissive child in front of him, taking total control,
"For my team… my sniper got himself rather badly injured in my little chase against Sherly. You've proved yourself to be more than able… well maybe not in killing me but then… not even I managed to do that. So, welcome aboard!"
"What makes you think I want to work for you?"
"Because you're bored… you prefer to kill people for fun and excitement, you're like me… you like to watch the world burn for the sheer Hell of it. Join me… we'll be so very good together."
We were dangerously close now, our chests just managing to press together despite the height difference. I could feel the heat coming off of us and the spark of electricity jumping between us. I reached down and began to undo the suit,
"On one condition." He grinned, as he began to pull my own expensive Armani shirt off,
"Anything Sebastian…"
"I get to kill my old boss, Mycroft Holmes." My partner smirked before leaning forwards to bite my neck, smiling as I jumped slightly, his fingers dancing across me and proving that he would dominate, despite my physical prowess,
"I think that can be arranged."
And then, pulling me towards my bedroom, he winked one last time.
