Well, I wanted to write something about Jim because he's like my favourite character ever, and I had an idea for this. idk. Supposed to be the days where Jim first starts his consulting criminal work. ;D I'll post up Chapter 2 when I have the time. So um yeah anyway enjoy, reviews are greatly appreciated and automatic cookies for you if you do so.
Jim Moriarty does not belong to me, yadda yadda yadda.
"Jim. You're late."
The teenager stumbled over to his seat and sat down, dumping his rucksack on the floor and looking up to see Mrs Hudson's rather unpleasant frown stretched on her face. Jim Moriarty blinked. Pause.
"You're late, Jim." She repeated.
A few students started sniggering, but Jim didn't care. He didn't care about anything, not really – the teacher was lucky to have him in the damn class today.
"I know." He said simply, folding his arms.
She was started to get annoyed now – it was painfully obvious by her facial expression – and Jim liked that. He enjoyed irritating people.
"Do you want an hour's detention after school, young man?"
"Thanks, but no thanks," he replied, reaching out for his bag and rummaging through it to get out his History book and pen. He smirked as he heard an exasperated sigh and continued with the lesson.
Sometimes Jim wished he and his family had never moved to London. It was full of idiots, for starters – they were all stupid. Thick, thick thick, every single one of them. It was boring, competing with morons… there was nothing fun, no challenges.
Jim liked challenges.
The lesson drawled on in its usual way with occasional interruptions by Jim's 'despicable behaviour', as Mrs Hudson liked to call it. Jim was grateful for the lesson to have ended, because if another idiot said another idiotic word he would -
"J-Jim!" An unfamiliar voice was calling out to him as he trudged out the classroom door on his way to the bathroom. He turned around, and an unpopular girl named Georgina, he believed, was chasing after him desperately. Her uniform was scruffy, which was unusual for her, and she hadn't tamed her hair that morning. Bags under her eyes were forming, as if she didn't get any sleep.
The boy narrowed his eyes, not sure what she wanted. Jim didn't have many friends – mainly because he didn't want them – yet he certainly didn't want to be aquatinted by somebody like Georgina.
"Yeah, um, hi," she said, sounding a little nervous. There was a slight pause before she said, "Um, interesting subject we're studying in History!"
He stared at her. "What?"
"You know, Tudors," she continued. "Henry the eighth, I think it's really interesting how he had six wives, it's weird, isn't it? I certainly couldn't manage with six wives, you know, especially how he only wanted a baby boy, he ended up with only one! Can you imagine that –"
"What do you want, Georgina?"
Her face fell, as if he saw through her disguise. "I heard you were good with helping people."
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Him? Jim Moriarty? Good at helping people? How could he be good at helping people if he pretty much hated the majority of them? He opened his mouth to tell her she was taking the piss, but then he shut it again, thinking about changing his words.
"Who told you this?" He settled with after the pause.
She shrugged. "Just… somebody. But can you help me? Please?"
"I don't –"
Just before he finished his sentence he stopped, because he had an idea. A brilliant idea. Jim frequently had those, being the genius he was compared to everybody else in this dull school. Well, it wasn't like he wasn't a genius outside that school. Because he was. He just didn't want to learn things like science and foreign languages and history and geography.
Three years stuck in London. Three years he'd met everybody – and hated them all. But this anonymous stranger claiming that he was good at helping people with their problems… no, this could start a whole new craze for Jim.
He didn't feel bad about having the idea one little bit.
"Sure," he said. "What's the problem?"
Georgina and Jim were sitting together on a bench outside, eating their lunch while discussing Georgina's curious troubles. They had decided it wasn't a good idea to discuss it in the school hallways with lots of people listening – where they were sitting on the bench was a much quieter, suitable place.
"My dad left at the age of three," she explained. "He and my mum never got along, and every night I just used to hear yelling and hitting and screaming. I lived with my mum, and she always seemed fine about it – until now. I don't know what's wrong with her. She starts taking pills and sleeps the whole day, and when she's awake she won't talk to me and will just leave me all by myself in the house. She comes back at 3am every night drunk, and smells of cigarettes even though she stopped years ago. Pills, pills, and more pills – it's the only thing on her mind. She's taking overdoses, and I'm scared something's going to happen to her, Jim, please can you help me?"
Jim thought about this for a while, not touching the lunch he had bought from the canteen. Interesting. He had no idea how a fifteen year old boy could help with the situation, but he knew what he was going to do, oh yes.
"I think," Jim said, after thinking about Georgina's mum, "that you should report back to me tomorrow. So I can think about it overnight. You know. These things don't come off the top of my head." He indicated to his skull, tapping it on the side and giving her a small smile.
She nodded, sobbing a little. He hadn't noticed she was crying. Great, he thought. Don't need this.
"It's just, I don't know what's got into her and I'm so scared Jim…" Tears were starting to roll down her face, and Jim didn't know what to do. He just gave in and offered a shoulder to cry on, and she did so, until she finally recovered, wiping the tears from her eyes in frustration.
"Sorry," she said, sounding a bit embarrassed. "That was stupid of me."
There was a slight pause – there were a lot of them between the two – before Georgina piped up again, her voice still shaking somewhat. "You're a really good person, Jim," she said. "Thank you."
He gave her a smile, tossed his uneaten lunch into the bin and walked off, thinking you have no idea of my plan, do you?