"Nice to see you James." My soft voice lilted, obviously filled with false confidence but even that faced with James was a feat. He was only a small man but categorically terrifying, with large black orbs for eyed that seemed to have both the depth of a puddle and an ocean all at once. No, I doubted that anybody was truly confident around him without having major mental health issues. He was power itself and didn't hate reminding you one bit; he owned you and me for that matter. But I had something he wanted and that? That made me semi valuable, a resource to be kept breathing lest my worth increase. Still I didn't doubt that he'd slit my throat himself if he had too, or got bored with me. Who am I kidding, when he got bored with me. I similarly wouldn't so much as flinch at ending him, and that was the way our work had to be: deadly.
"Pleasures all mine Miss Hemsworth." His own voice replied. It was interesting the way he could make the soft Irish tones and intonations of his voice sound as if they're dripping with menace, but he managed it. Somehow I held back the shiver that threatened to rumble down my spine and burn my façade of confidence to little more than ash.
I twisted over to face him in the cramped back seat, ignoring the slightly damp umbrella clutched tightly between my knees.
"What is it that you want from me today then?" Curiosity washed away the slight tone of hatred I hoped to pick up, leaving me sounding hatefully like my desire to please him out weighed anything else. You know the most sickening part? It did outweigh most things on my agenda, I moved anything on my schedule to accommodate him and he knew that. Bastard. I could see that little knowing smirk spread across his lips like a moral threat, because in his case it usually was.
"Anything you know or happen to find out about-" the smaller man dug out an a4 wallet from his case and handed it over to me without even bothering to glance my way. I grabbed it and quickly scanned the names, some instantly remembered and others utterly unknown but one stuck out best of all: Ms. Irene Adler, my former mentor.
It might seem bizarre for a working girl to have a mentor, I suppose it was really but neither of us were what our face value sold. The business was something we did because it was practical and efficient. Why did we do it? People trust the women they sleep with, more so if they pay them and we sold the information they let slip to men like James for more money than you could spend even when you want to. Really I would never have to work again but much like Irene I knew, this game was for life with Moriarty, however short a life happened to be. By the way she was on my list, I took it hers was soon to end. I'd miss her, but not enough to keep anything from him, she wasn't worth my life as well and she's have done just the same. For all my mental strength I knew my face betrayed just a flash of pain way the idea, one that said I might warn her somewhat against get fate, one that he couldn't trust.
Pulling my eyes upwards, exactly as imagined guys eyes bite into me.
"I hope you know better than that Hemsworth." James stated, cold danger burning in his words that would curdle milk.
Raising a boldly irritating eye brow I spoke.
"Better than what, Moriarty?" I nearly spat, posting my words carefully with his surname much as he did.
"Better than to sign your own death warrant, my dear." darkness culled the smirk that had grown in arrogance across my lips, fading everything else to black. Not often but periodically I could forget how close to dead I am simply being in his presence, that's not even close to a safe way to behave around him, not that there is one.
Composing myself carefully I canted my head in his direction.
"Look at where I'm sat James, I couldn't be here if I was concerned about the worth of my life" I turned back forcing my eyes dead to the front and pushing the emotion back behind them where it wouldn't show.
"However you can consider me an open book in regards to Irene." Cold, detached, perfect.
It's a curious respect for life you have in this line of work, never expecting to see to see the next dawn and taking time away from other people. You become very aware of exactly what you're willing to sell to stay alive: best friends, family, your body, morals and beliefs they're all optional and you can certainly say goodbye to your soul. I've more scars emotional and otherwise than I dare count, but I'm still breathing so I've won the game so far. I'm not kidding when I say I don't expect to see tomorrow, it was the first thing I was ever taught about the occupation: to succeed throu need to understand that you're a beautiful toy to them both dead or alive and equally valuable in either state. If James wants me alive everybody on that list would want me dead, which indeed meant, if she caught even the slightest wind if it, her. If Irene Adler knew I was coming for her, I'd be dead already.
For a long moment he didn't utter a word, let my stew fire a moment before in his soft voice that contained equal quantities of knowing and condescending he started simply "I don't doubt it Miss Hemsworth."
Author's Notes:
Why hello again! I hope you enjoyed it, I'm afraid it's short and probably only a oneshot/flash fictionette unless people are interested in hearing more from it otherwise my bus stop written rambling is over for this one. Anyway, let me know, I love critiques and reviews .