C.H.A.P.T.E.R.O.N.E. -John

A new summer's day began to dawn on the quaint little planet called Earth, upon which laid a quaint little country…in which laid a quaint little town. A small town in England in fact, out where there was enough countryside to get a taste of the great outdoors, whilst also having enough town life to be able to get a loaf of bread and some jam from just around the corner. It was as if this little town was built to accommodate every need of the inhabitants within it. No sense of negativity would ever make its way into the towns newspapers, and everything was made of pleasantries. Every townsperson was happy in this little town, everyone was juvenile and everyone cherished the time they could live in what seemed like one little slice of heaven…

But, that was all apart from one man. Mister John Watson. This man seemed ordinary at first glance. A man who would wear sweet little jumpers and constantly had a faint smile rested upon his lips. He was youthful and brave, with the heart and understanding of a wise old soldier, and yet was still in his mid twenties. He had lived in this quaint little town his whole life, and he was always the man who was willing to help out and care for everyone else in town. No person was left out when it came to John's consideration. But there was one thing that John found himself envying and hating about his life.

Everyday was exactly the same.

"Good morning John!" A townsperson would call to him, in which he would always respond with a warm smile and a little wave of his hand. He would always wear his same old jumpers, eat his same old jam and bread for breakfast, and would always spend his days helping the same old people. None of these things, none of them would aggravate or irritate him. None of them were necessarily bad to him. But they were always the same. Never differentiating the current day from the last. And that lead to John being… Bored. He wanted fantastic new experiences, he wanted to live life for once, and he certainly wanted to find exhilaration. Danger. It would bring a pulse to his life again.

But what mad person would actually be interested in Danger? John felt alone in this little town, what with everyone else being content in a safe atmosphere. It seemed he was heading for the solitary life... Oh, but it wasn't like nobody was attracted to the man. Far from it in fact. Him being a sweet and kind man, yet brave and strong, unafraid to stand up for himself or others… Well, girls all over the place secretly admired and cooed over him. He was a 'real cutie' in the eyes of the female population of the little town. And he was 'utterly adorable' in the eyes of one particular… man.

On this pleasant little day any who, John Watson was wandering through this little town, collecting his groceries and walking home, when a hand slipped into his shopping bag and stole one of the jars of strawberry jam.

"Wh- Hey! Give that ba-" As he turned to face this bloody cretin who thought they could take his jam, he immediately cut himself off. His eyebrows still arched inwards, but now that he saw who it was… He was in less of a tizzy- less in the state of mind that it was a thief.

"Dear me, John… Jam Jam Jam, is that all you ever eat?" The man asked, shaking his head and tutting the slightest. "You need to ease up a little on this stuff. I mean, Jam may have lots of fruit in it, but it also has a lot of sugar. And with white bread, oooh you're going to gain a tummy. You already have a bit of a cute little pot belly…" The man grinned toothily, his smoothed down brown hair shaking slightly against the breeze as he spoke. "Remember Johnny boy, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips."

"Oh for goodness sake." John quickly snatched the jam jar back and shoved it into his plastic shopping bag. "I'll eat what I want, thank you very much."

"Woah ho, isn't that cute, the spikes are coming out of this little hedgehog today, aren't they?" John narrowed his eyes as the smug smile washed across the lips of the other man, who was shrugging his shoulders gently in a teasing fashion.

He let out a sigh, turning his back towards the other. "Look, what do you want, Jim?"

The other man smiled as John used his name. Jim Moriarty. Known well throughout the town as the unspoken leader, the one with the most power and the ability to give others whatever they wanted. Everyone in the town admired him. Well… Almost everyone in the town. Whereas he was loved by most happy go lucky folks, John could swear that Jim Moriarty was similar to something slimy. How was it that he managed to gain the trust of everyone in this little town? No one man should be able to do that. People usually had enemies and friends and colleagues. It just made John a little suspicious and… a tiny bit scared, quite frankly, of this man.

"Oh John, I was just passing on by, saw you here and wanted to have a little talk." As the man spoke, he began to wander around John so that they could come face to face, but it appeared that John tried to redirect Moriarty's wandering gaze each and every time he came closer. "Something wrong with a little talk Johnny boy? Come ooon everybody loves a bit of chitter chatter. The worst kind of noise, I hate to hear…" Moriarty paused for a moment, noticing no matter where he stepped, John would turn his normally understanding blue eyes away. Narrowing his own eyes and holding back his aggravation, he leant in and took John's chin, forcing him to look in his own direction. He let out a small sigh and then smiled to the other man. "Is silence."

"Yes yes, alright, get off." The man with the wooly jumper swatted Jim's hands away, taking a step back. "Thanks for the mysterious words of… I wouldn't even call them words of wisdom, just rambling nonsense really." He sucked in a breath and nodded a little, looking round to him at last. "But what did you want to talk about?"

Moriarty tilted his head gently at the other man, taking a few leisurely slow steps forward and then tilting his head at John. "I would like to take you out for dinner, John Watson."

John raised an eyebrow and looked round to him slowly. He took a few moments to look over Jim and then look back to that smirk he wore so proudly. He looked like he genuinely meant it. Genuinely wanted to take him out for a meal… However, there was something that crossed his mind. "You mean… Like a date?"

Jim chuckled, smiling charmingly to him and then patting his back softly. "Well of course Johnny jimbo Jo-."

"No." John answered without hesitation, shaking his head and turning away to continue his walk home again.

For a few moments the other man was left alone in silence. The silence that he hated oh so much. It appeared the rejection had taken Moriarty by perplexed surprise. He stood there, hands in pockets as he stared at the place Watson had once stood… Before he tutted and looked back round to where John was heading once again.

"Oh… OH ho! I see, oh that's adorable John. Complete and utter denial, hard to get, ey? How sweet." Jim went jumping after him, almost skipping beside him as John began marching home. John's peace and quiet morning was short lived-so it seemed.

"Not Denial, just not interested." He shook his head again, not bothering to look back to the other man as he was approached once again.

"Of course you are! John, look at me, I'm the most powerful man in town. Why wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Hmm, maybe because, uh, I'm not gay?"

"Oh yes you are."

John stopped in his tracks this time and sighed, turning to face the other man. "No. Actually, I'm not." He pinched at the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, grunting a little. "Look, I'm not interested Jim. Why don't you… go and find someone else to bother today. I mean, honestly, you don't know my sexuality, so I don't think you can tell me whether I'm gay or not."

"Oh but you are interested, Johnny boy. Most definitely gay… There are plenty of signs determining your sexuality, I don't need you to admit it to me."

John looked back to the other man, now coming face to face with him. However, the once smiling Jim Moriarty now looked a little more… stern. Sinister, almost. He stared down at the other man and loomed over him, his eyes a little bit more narrow now. John's eagerness to kick Moriarty in the balls began to shrink away and he felt his stomach twist. The look was like nothing he'd really witnessed before…

"I think you're missing the big picture here, little John Watson. In this town, everyone, and I-hi mean everyone, listens to me… And that includes, you." Moriarty sneered down at John and took a step closer, at which John took a step back from. "I own this town, Johnny boy, I am their little king. And I am just one teensy tinsy step away from owning every part of it. I could own you, Watson. You could rule beside me, and then honey you will see the crown that sits on my head and you will never live the way you did before. No looking back." A quick smirk washed over his now dastardly looking face and he gently poked John's nose. "You don't have to love me… I own you already… I just need to collect you now as my prize. Just wait John; you won't have a choice in the matter. I've branded my initials into your heart, and I could either treat you like a slave… or like a lover. It is up to you. But either way, you will be mi-"

"Are you having fun there?" interrupted John, tilting his head slightly with a now unfazed raised eyebrow up his face. "I mean, really… That was some beautiful crap load of bullshit there, but… I must be off. You know, got to get ready for, uhm... you to come and 'collect your prize' and what not. Maybe I'll make some tea for us, yeah? I'm pretty sure I have some biscuits lying around too…" John looked at him as if he meant it. As if he was being sincere. But he cut it off and scoffed as he turned away, shaking his head and walking back to his home, leaving Jim standing there with swears and curses burning on his spiked tongue. What a prick. John thought to himself as he headed back into his small cottage.

Moriarty watched him go, his eyes burning on the sight of the other man being so cocky. Not caring about anything he had just said. He was Jim Moriarty. Everything he said mattered. Everything he said was listened to. And everything he said was how things would go… It angered him to not be taken so seriously. The man who he was going to take, the man that was unquestionably his, was not interested in him… at all… Oh, things are going to change around here… Moriarty turned away and began to stroll slowly, a cold look burning into his face, his eyes steely and making him look almost as if he was about to pounce on someone and feast into their flesh. He would not allow such a simple man, so often referred to as a 'good man', push him away. This was not the end. John Watson would be his, no matter what it took

"Treated like a slave it is then, Johnny boy…"