Seb downed yet another glass of whiskey like a shot as his bleary eyes lost focus on the screen, Jim's puppet-like movements still repeating. "Ya coulda bloody TOLD me you were at least alive, ya bastard." He growled, hand tightening around the glass. He picked up the decanter next to him and held it to his lips, tipping it back, his glass forgotten on the table next to him. Sadly, it was empty, and he glared at it balefully. This was one of those fancy things that Jim had always insisted on using, and had forced him to buy.
Suddenly the decanter seemed like every posh, fancy little stupid thing that Jim had forced him to do, and he hurled it at the television. "Fuck you." He screamed. Look at the man he had become without Jim. It was pathetic. Idiotic. A sniper with no allegiance. A man without a cause. And he'd TRIED. All the petty criminals that had tried to snap up the spot of most dangerous man in London were scared of the brooding ex-Colonel. Pussies, every last one of em.
"Oh do stop sniveling, Tiger. We have work to do." Sebastian started, shaking his bleary head as an all too familiar step sounded behind his chair, and a light kiss was dropped on his head. "Did you miss me?"