He wasn't really sure how he'd ended up there. In an airport, with nothing except his duffel bag, his wallet, and his phone.

It had all happened so fast. The only thing he knew was that it was his bloody brother's fault. Somehow that bastard had gotten him kicked out of the army. Dishonorably discharged, they'd called it. He probably would've gone on trial, if it hadn't been for the fact that his last name was Moran. He'd joined the army with his twin brother, when they were twenty-five, and it had been one big competition since then. Who could get the highest rank, who could get the most medals, and so on. But it had all been friendly, or so Sebastian had thought. Apparently Severin had thought differently.

It had all changed when he became a Colonel, leaving his brother as a Major. They'd been stationed together in Afghanistan when some officers claimed to have seen him stab a private from their company. He knew it had been his brother, and the privates knew it as well. But even though they respected Sebastian, after all he was a good leader that took care of his men, they feared his brother. After all, they had just seen him stab another man in cold blood. And Severin had a bit of a reputation, and not a good one. Sebastian didn't blame the privates for not telling the truth, he was sure that his brother had threatened them as well. No, it just made him all the more angry with his brother

So, he suddenly found himself back in London after thirteen years, with no home, no money, and no friends to speak of. He had tried calling his parents, but that had gone just as terribly as he had suspected. They'd said he was a disgrace to the family, that they would have expected this from his brother but certainly not him, how could he do this, and so on. But he was without a home, and without his father's money, which was a first for him. At least he had the money he'd earned from spending thirteen years in the army.

He sighed as he walked out of the airport, looking around for a cab. He had enough money on his credit card to stay in a hotel room, maybe even rent a small flat, but it wouldn't last too long, he knew that. He'd have to find himself a new job, soon. Though he had no clue as of where he'd find one, or what he would even do. The army had been his life, and it had been ripped away from him because of a idiotic, jealous brother.

"Colonel Sebastian Moran?"

He turned around swiftly, snapping out of his thoughts as he heard someone say his name. "Maybe. Who're you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at the small, dark-haired man that was leaning against a slim, black car, presumably watching him from behind his dark shades.

"James Moriarty. But you can call me Jim. I'm a friend of your brother," the man said, lazily holding out his hand for Sebastian to shake.

"Then no, you've got the wrong person," Sebastian stated, ignoring the hand, turning away from the man, heading over to a cab he spotted nearby.

He heard a quiet snort behind him, and he didn't need to look to know that the man was following him.

"Trust me, darling, I'm not a man you want to walk away from."

Sebastian kept walking silently, not in the mood to deal with some jerk, but unfortunately the man seemed to have a different idea.

"I'm guessing you're in need of a job. And a place to stay. I can offer you both, in one deal. Doesn't that sound great?" the man asked, and Sebastian finally turned around to glare at him

"No. Not at all." he muttered, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

"No? But why not?" The man, Jim, arched an eyebrow at him, looking genuinely appalled, as if he didn't understand why on earth anyone would say no to a job offer from a man they'd just met, at an airport. A man who was apparently friends with his bastard of a brother, on top of everything else.

"Well, firstly, you're friends with my brother."

"Oh, no. I say 'friends', but.." Jim scrunched his nose slightly, "I don't really have friends."

"Secondly, I know nothing about you. You could be a psychopathic serial killer for all I know."

For some reason that made Jim augh, a deep, throaty laughter, which was the last thing Sebastian was expecting.

"You.. You're not a psychopathic serial killer, are you?" he asked, groaning quietly. Of course his brother would be friends with a lunatic. Oh, that was great.

"Oh, it doesn't matter what I am. All that matters is that I've got a job for you. You can either take it, or live in the streets. I can guarantee you that nobody will give you work, anywhere. I'll make sure of it. If I can't have you, then no one can," Jim said, suddenly looking annoyed.

Sebastian chewed on his lip for a moment, studying the smaller man. He looked serious enough. "What exactly would I have to do?" he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I'm in need of a sniper, as of now. Depends on how much I like you if you'll get a promotion or not." And now the man was back to his previous snug self, smirking at Sebastian, looking far to pleased with himself..

"And how much would I get payed?"

"A lot more than you would anywhere else. Now, come on. We don't have all day," Jim mused, grinning widely at Sebastian, before moving away, into his car, leaving the door open for Sebastian.

And Sebastian, who had never been known for making good decisions, followed.