While in this particular Sherlock universe Sebastian won't get his Tiger nickname for another few years, we loved the idea of him getting Tiger stripes.

Chapter 2: Stripes

Jim checked his mobile and scowled. His latest target was a crafty one, one that was paranoid and difficult to work around; the bastard had to go. Now he had to find a sniper to do the job...his scowl vanished, replaced by a smirk. Sniper. Of course. Time to break Colonel Moran into his job.

Sebby- hit for you, 438 Walcott St. Do not disappoint me. -JM

Seb jumped as his mobile went off, scrambling up as he read the text.

Don't-oh, never mind. Fine. On my way. Anything particular you want? -SM

Jim thought briefly, then grinned.

Eyes removed. Then a simple execution-style to the back of the head. 'This is what happens to spies' written in target's blood on the wall. That should do it. -JM

Shouldn't have to remind you to wear gloves. -JM

Seb's lip curled in spite of himself, the smirk vanishing as soon as he got Jim's follow-up text.

What do you think I am? A fucking moron? Consider it done. -SM

Boss. -SM

Jim actually chuckled.

Not a moron, no, but you're a bit...rusty. It would be a shame to have to go looking for another sniper so quickly. -JM

I may be rusty, but I remember how to be stealthy. I'll be back before an hour has passed. -SM

Good. Aim true, Sniper. -JM

Of course I will. -SM

Jim sat back in the black leather wingback chair behind his desk. Now all there was to do was wait.

oOoOo

Seb got there easily enough, sneaking in the back door to the house without getting caught; the lock was child's play. The mark was something else, and damn was the man fast. They grappled for several minutes before Seb was able to knock him out and carve out his eyes, dropping them in a bag to bring back to his employer. He set the mark in a chair and shot him in the head before taking a gloved finger and writing the desired message on the wall. Satisfied, he checked his watch...and cursed. He had ten minutes to get back!

Jim checked the clock. Sebby now had eight minutes to return.

Tick tock, Sebby, tick tock. -JM

Shut the fuck up, sir. -SM

Seb was sitting impatiently in a cab that was, as his luck would have it, stuck in traffic. He was still a good ten blocks from the flat.

Traffic is a bitch. Leg it. -JM

You think I didn't figure that out? -SM

Wanted to be sure that you hadn't pickled your brain with all that Scotch. -JM

You make one more crack about my drinking and I'll kill you. -SM

Really, now? Not a good way to end your first hit, threatening your employer. And this is now twice that you have forgotten rule number three. -JM

Well, punish me when I get to your office. Made it. Two minutes to spare. -SM

Jim frowned at the text. Oh, Colonel Moran, how much you still need to learn, he thought. This lack of respect and base fear would simply not do, not at all. He banked the coals in the office fireplace and stuck a hunting knife in them, leaving the hilt sticking out. "And that makes three," he called as he heard the door to the flat close. "Office. Now."

Seb swaggered in, depositing the bag of eyeballs on Jim's desk. "Taken care of, sir. Just as you asked."

Jim's expression remained stony. "Shirt off. Kneel on the rug. Hands behind your head," he instructed, voice clipped.

Seb's grin faltered. "But-"

"What did I say, Moran?" Jim hissed, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Kn-kneel, sir," Seb murmured, taking off his shirt and dropping to the rug, lacing his fingers behind his head.

Jim smiled, a thin, poisonous gesture. He removed the knife from the fire, handling it gingerly and admiring the now red-hot blade. "You seem to be in the habit of forgetting the rules," he said, walking behind Sebastian so that he couldn't see him but could feel his presence, feel the heat radiating from the knife. "I will assure that you will remember it," he said, laying the edge of the blade on the sniper's ribcage on the right side, pressing a long line of fire and steel into his skin.

Seb chomped down on his lip, splitting it and dripping blood down his chin. He swallowed his moan of pain and fought the wave of nausea at smelling his own flesh burn

"Oh, before I forget," Jim said, removing a handkerchief from his pocket and shoving it into the blonde man's mouth. "So you don't swallow your tongue or bite through it. Now where would the fun be in that?" Another line, right below the first. "You'll remember the rules now, won't you?" A third line below that.

The sniper nearly gagged on the handkerchief, tasting blood hot in his mouth as his eyes watered in pain. He nodded to show he understood, praying that it would all be over soon. The wounds didn't even have time to bleed; the heat from the blade cauterized them too quickly.

"Good," his Boss crooned. Then his face hardened again. "Now that the rules are taken care of, know that I demand respect-" here he moved around Sebastian, pressing a first line down his left side. "-that I will not be bullied-" a second line "-and that, while you are the best, you are also replaceable. I can settle for lesser sons of greater sires." A third and final line before he buried the blade in the floor, hissing and smoking as the metal cooled. "Get out."

It took everything Sebastian had not to collapse on the floor. Taking his shirt, he removed the stained handkerchief from his mouth to say, "Thank you, sir," before stumbling from the room, heading straight for the shower. He needed to get cold water on the burns. Jim watched as his new pet left, haggard and pale from the pain. He smiled...then he chuckled. Then he laughed, a full, drawn-out laugh, head tossed back, the noise following Sebastian as he made his way down the hall.

The sound of Jim Moriarty laughing would haunt Seb's nightmares for several months following, the deranged cackle echoing in his brain as he stepped into an ice cold shower, howling in pain as the water slid over his freshly marked skin.

oOoOo

Nearly two weeks had gone by, two weeks of Seb tiptoeing around Jim, and the criminal, quite frankly, was getting tired of it. "So, Sebby...how are you?" he purred one day, when it was impossible for Seb to avoid him.

The sniper jumped, just barely catching his bowl of cereal as it slipped from his fingers. "G-good, Boss."

Jim sighed and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you act like I'm going to eat you. I'm not. And your little...punishment was only because you kept forgetting the rules. I know it won't happen again. So relax," he said, drawing out the last word and stretching languidly. Seb nodded, clutching the bowl tightly in his hands as he tried very hard not to gobble it down and run.

The criminal sauntered over and draped his arms around the assassin's neck, chest resting against his back and letting his hands come to rest at his sternum. He could feel the larger man tense and his heart speed up. "Relax, " Jim repeated, voice softer, resting his chin on Seb's shoulder. The sniper swallowed hard, his body heating up. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the tension drain from him, a necessary talent in order to be a top notch assassin.

"Much better," Jim purred, nuzzling into Seb's neck. "I'm not always the frightening man...I can be quite reasonable and gentle."

Seb bit his lip, swallowing a quip. "I can see that, sir."

"Ooooh, he can learn!" Jim said, smiling. "So proud of you, Sebby. And yes, yes, I know, scowl, 'don't call me that.' Well tough. I WILL call you that. At least it's nothing stupid like 'Colonel Mustard' or something of that ilk."

The sniper's lip twitched. "Would that make you Professor Plum, Boss?"

Jim laughed, a genuine one this time. He buried his face deeper into Seb's neck. "Oh, I should think so. Cleverest lot in 'Cluedo'."

"I'm sure you always win, Boss."

"Naturally."

Setting down the bowl, Seb hesitantly brought his own hands up to Jim's, caressing them ever so slightly. "Hmmm..."

"Thoughts, Sebby?"

"No, not really Boss. Just, you know..."

"Not a psychic. Indulge me."

"You're a very confusing man. One minute I'm in trouble and getting my arse handed to me, and the next you're almost...cuddly, Boss."

Jim snickered. "That's just it. I'm sooooooooo changeable. Keeps everyone on their toes." He grinned and pressed a kiss to Seb's neck.

Seb stiffened slightly at the gesture before slowly turning in Jim's arms to face the smaller man. "Any reason for that, Boss? Or you just felt like it." He still hadn't forgotten the kiss at the stove two weeks before.

Jim thought for a moment. "A bit of both...the reason being that you just smell delicious," he said, smirking.

"Now that could be considered harassment, sir."

Jim snorted. "Like you'd care."

"I could if I want to, sir."

Jim pulled back, his eyes searching Seb's. "Could you?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"If I could use it to my advantage, then yes. I would care, Boss."

"Silly Seb...caring is not an advantage. But I guess I could let it slide," he drawled, letting the distance close between them, resting his mouth on Seb's before moving his lips against the sniper's, coaxing a response from him.

Seb closed his eyes, very hesitantly kissing back. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off the Boss. Jim gently nibbled on Seb's lower lip. He needed to go easy on his sniper for now; he had given him a bit more of a fright than he had intended with his punishment earlier.

Seb moaned softly, his hands wrapping gently around Jim as he kissed him back, flicking his tongue out of his mouth and running it along Jim's lips. Jim opened his mouth and twined his tongue with Seb's, purring into his touch. The sniper whimpered softly, trying to break the kiss for air, but Jim was having none of it.

Jim deepened the kiss, exploring the confines of Seb's mouth, stroking his upper palate and the inside of his lips, threading his fingers through the blonde hair and tugging lightly. Seb squeaked as Jim's grip in his hair tugged him down lower, the taller man snaking his arms around Jim's waist and yanking him closer in response, pressing them together.

Jim smiled and sent a rumbling growl of approval; oh yes. This was exactly what he wanted-what he needed- and it was glorious. He pressed closer to Seb, winding his arms around his neck and rocking his hips gently.

Seb yanked his head back, breaking the kiss and gasping for air, staring wide eyed down at the consulting criminal. Jim's mouth, lips kiss-stung, curled into a smile. "Shall we continue?" he murmured, arching an eyebrow.

Seb gaped at him. "I-you-are-is this-"

"Words, Sebby. Use complete sentences."

Seb snarled. "Fuck you, sir."

Jim laughed. "You'll find that I do the fucking around here. But if you've been a particularly good boy..." he snaked his hand down to the crotch of Seb's jeans and squeezed the bulge there, gently, "I may just let you do that."

Seb keened, his knees buckling. "P-please...Boss."

"Hm? Please what?"

"More." Seb couldn't believe himself, begging for a hand job like he was a horny teenager.

Jim's lips curled wickedly into a smile. "Ohh...I suppose I can," he said, drawing his finger along Seb's still-clothed length. Deftly unbuttoning and unzipping the sniper's trousers, he slid a hand into his pants and palmed Seb's length. It was impressive, he'd give him that, as he felt both the assassin and himself twitch.

Taking hold of the counter, Seb managed to stay up, moaning loudly as Jim touched him. "Oh god yes, Boss. Oh yes, please move, please."

Swiftly undoing his own trousers, Jim started stroking the both of them in a slow, steady rhythm, pausing to squeeze firmly now and again.

Seb's mouth was watering, his breathing growing heavy and ragged. "You're-fucking-amazing," he whispered. It had been ages since he'd gotten off like this, preferring to pick up women at bars or men in the alleyways.

Jim smiled lazily and began moving faster, rocking his hips against Seb's, enjoying the feeling of the hot length in his hand and against his crotch. The sniper bucked back against him, moving as much as he could and desperate for more friction. His hands working quicker now, Jim felt his breath leaving him in gasps as he felt himself rocketing closer to the edge of that precipice.

"Please...make me-ungh-come for-y-y-you, B-boss," Seb pleaded.

"With pleasure," Jim hissed/growled, the desperation in Seb's voice sending him over the edge. He came, his strokes nearly fast enough to cause friction burns as he worked Seb over with him.

"Yes-fuck-OHGODYESBOSS!" Seb yelled, spilling over Jim's hand as his whole body shuddered, almost collapsing to the floor.

Jim purred and sighed as they both came down from their sexual high. He gently cleaned them both up with a washrag before tucking them both back into their respective trousers.

Seb took in deep gulps of air, watching the criminal work. "So...that just happened."

"Yes, yes it did," said Jim, satisfied with both Seb and himself.

"So, my other job is to help-ah-fulfill your...um...needs, Boss?"

"I like to think of it as a mutual...coming to terms," he said, smiling at his own bad joke.

Seb closed his eyes in exasperation. "Okay then."

Jim leaned in and claimed the sniper's mouth again, hotter than the first time, more teeth and tongue and a harsher edge to the kiss. Seb inhaled sharply through his nose, growing bold and taking Jim's face in his hands, working to get an upper hand in the kiss

Jim wound his fingers through Seb's hair and yanked, forcing his head back. "Remember...I do the fucking," he said, voice soft and dangerous as he trailed kisses along the assassin's jaw line.

Seb whimpered, trembling under Jim's grip. "Y-yes, sir."

From the jaw line down to the throat now, little bites interspersed with the kisses, lavishing them with his tongue. "Good," he purred before going back up and kissing him on the mouth once more; a reward for good behavior.

Seb let Jim kiss him before the man pulled away. "Are you...satisfied with me, sir?"

Jim smiled. "Yes...for now."

That made Seb uneasy. "All-all right then. Well, uh, call if you need anything then? Sir?"

The consulting criminal affectionately nuzzled into Seb's neck. "Always, Sebby," he said.

Read and respond as always. More fun times to come...including more from "The Great Game."