Author's note: Just to say if anyone reading this has read/is reading my other story Money Power Glory this oneshot is taking place in an AU where my OC Amelia doesn't exist. Just couldn't resist writing some MorMor. x

'Dead.' I typed into my phone with one hand while wiping the other on my trousers idly. There was already blood on them so it didn't matter anymore, Jim would make me throw them out. The reply was instant; 'Good boy. I want sushi; get some on your way home. I'll know if it's cheap. X'

I sighed begrudgingly and put my phone back into my jacket pocket before walking over to the grubby sink in the corner of the warehouse and washing my hands. The water ran red for a few moments as I scrubbed my hands roughly and tried to figure out where I was going to get sushi Jim liked at this time of night. He was a ridiculously fussy eater and would only accept food of a certain standard, the particular sushi restaurant I normally went to would be closed now, but going home without it wasn't an option. I took my phone out and dialled the restaurant owner.

After four or five rings he answered,

"Hello?"

"Dai, it's Sebastian Moran, I need you to open your kitchen."

The man on the phone sounded groggy, "I'm in the office, there is no one in the kitchen. No chefs will come in at this time, it's 1 am."

"You go over there then, I'll pay double." It was one of the most expensive sushi restaurants in London anyway but the money was worth keeping Jim in a good mood. I read out his usual orders and the man didn't protest further other than to make a few resentful noises.

I took a final glance at the body slumped in the chair in the middle of the warehouse before striding out into the night.

It was an hour later when I finally turned the key in the door to Moriarty's huge apartment with a bag full of boxed up sushi and a considerable amount less money than I had left with.

"You took your time." Jim said darkly as I walked into the lounge where he was sat on the sofa, one arms flung across the back, flicking through the channels on the tv.

I scowled as I set down the bag down on the table loudly.

"You try getting fresh sushi at 1 am." I muttered.

"Poor Sebastian," He replied sarcastically, "It's almost as if I'm not paying you enough for your trouble."

I didn't argue; working for Jim Moriarty wasn't an easy task in the slightest, but money didn't seem to be an object with him. He flung it around as if he had a bottomless supply, and from what I had seen in my 4 years working for him, he could have.

I dished some food up and brought in over to the sofa, sitting next to him so that our thighs were parallel and handed him a plate. He retracted his arm from the sofa behind me as he took it, and a flung mine behind him in replacement, shoving two pieces of sushi into my mouth with the other hand. He shot me a disapproving look.

"Good food is wasted on you."

I chewed crudely in reply.

"You're supposed to eat them one at a time." He picked a piece up and held it out in front of me, it was the last one of what he knew was my favourite.

"Slowly, try to actually taste it."

I opened my mouth and he moved it closer, so that it was nearly touching my tongue. He looked up at me through his eyelashes, his other hand resting on my thigh as he leaned across me slightly. My pulse was elevated a little, but I breathed slowly as I waited for him to allow me to eat it.

Suddenly he snatched it away and popped it into his own mouth in one swift movement.

"Hey!" I snapped.

"That's for being late." He replied.

I purposely tried not to taste any of the others out of spite, and when we had finished I pulled my arm out from behind him and picked up the remote.

"I was watching that." He said irritably as I changed the channel from the nature documentary that was on to some grisly horror movie. However I suspected his displeasure was more down to me withdrawing the intimacy.

I chuckled dryly as someone's head was chopped off with amusingly poor special effects. Moriarty was no longer watching the tv, but had taken out his phone and was glued to it, eyebrows pulled low over his eyes. Suddenly, he laughed a little louder than was natural.

"Something funny?" I asked.

"It's a Sherlock thing." He replied smoothly.

My heart sank a little and I glowered bitterly. Jim had taken a great interest in Sherlock Holmes, an interest that seemed a little too obsessive to purely be professional. I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous- it was in my nature to be possessive- but Jim wasn't mine to be possessive of.

I realised he was now looking at me, smiling satisfiedly as if he could read my mind. He rested a hand on my thigh again and twisted slightly to face me, I held his gaze, determined not to show any signs of weakness. It was always a battle with Jim, a power struggle, which he always won.

"Something wrong, Tiger?" He asked innocently, and my heart rate fluctuated somewhat at his casual use of the nickname.

"Nothing, Boss." I replied tightly.

"Hmm. Only-" he smiled and his eyes flicked down for a second, "You looked a little jealous."

When he raised them to look at me again, they were smouldering. His eyes were dark at the best of times, but as his pupils dilated they were almost entirely black.

A few tense moments went by before I gave in, sliding a hand around his waist and leaning forward to bury my face into his neck and press a light kiss on his collarbone. Both our bodies relaxed into each other and I inhaled the scent of his expensive cologne deeply.

"You know I can't have you being jealous, Sebastian." He said. "It's dreadfully unprofessional." I could almost hear him wincing in his voice.

"I'm not jealous." I mumbled into the crook behind his ear.

"Could've fooled me." I pulled my face away from his neck to see him smirking at me as his hand slid up my thigh to fiddle with the hem of my t shirt artfully.

I stared at him for a few moments, wishing I could resist the easy smirk and smooth arrogance that radiated from him so strongly it overwhelmed whatever room he was in. I wasn't easily manipulated, but when it came to Jim Moriarty I felt entirely helpless. I hated it, but couldn't get enough.

He tilted his head to one side slightly and eyed my t shirt as he began to slide it up my stomach suggestively. My heart was pounding as I pulled it over my head and his eyes moved over my torso.

He traced a finger over my body lightly and I shivered, before gripping his waist and pulling him closer to me, pressing my lips to his. He kissed back easily, responding when I eased his mouth open and deepened the kiss eagerly. I ran my hands over every inch of his slim, toned body I could reach, keeping him as close as I could manage. When this level of contact was no longer enough, I pushed him carefully backwards and climbed on top, his hands were entangled in my hair and he pulled my face back to his. I nibbled his lip lightly before pressing my face into his neck again and kissing it passionately as I pressed my body into his. He bit my earlobe lightly as I did so, sending shivers down my core once again.

"I'm going to pay Sherlock a little visit tomorrow." He murmured in my ear, voice perfectly composed.

I growled and tightened my grip on him possessively; he chuckled.

I groaned and rolled over as I felt Jim stirring beside me, sunlight was beaming offensively brightly through the window and he was sat up in bed, texting swiftly.

"Morning, Tiger." He said without looking away from his phone.

I made to stretch an arm around him and pull him closer but he stopped me in action.

"Not now, Moran." His voice carried an authorative tone I recognised was not to be challenged.

He put his phone down on the desk and cracked his knuckles.

"Today's the day!" He said in a singsong voice before climbing out of bed and striding into the bathroom. I didn't move, listening to the sound of the shower and thinking about the night before. Jim was temperamental; unpredictable. He did not allow moments of intimacy or affection to come by as often as I wanted them to, but when they did it was always worth the wait, even if he went back to being cold and distant again afterwards. After about 20 minutes he strolled back into the bedroom, wearing a new navy blue suit. He had one hand in his pocket and he walked around the bed and picked up his phone again, and I noticed he was chewing gum as he looked at it.

"I need you later, be ready. I'm going to the office."

"I can take you-" I began.

"No need, I have a driver."

I sank back into the bed and watched him. He looked so irresistible I wanted nothing more than to pull him back into bed, but I knew he wouldn't allow it. It wasn't as if I couldn't physically overpower him, but getting on Jim's bad side was to have a death wish.

He clicked his gum and slid his phone into his pocket, "Be good while I'm away."

He strode towards the door.

"I love you." I told him.

He turned and grimaced at me, "Don't be boring."

I rolled onto my back as I heard the door click behind him. Moriarty was difficult; I had always known that. He was a psychopath; I had always known that too. Everything about him screamed at my instincts to leave, but from the moment I met him I knew I would never be able to tear myself away. I had truly met my match and he made me feel more alive than I had ever felt in my life.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table and I picked it up, rubbing my eyes.

New Message from: Jim Moriarty.

'I love you too.'