June 12th1999-
Sat in the half flagged back garden of 42 Moorgate Street, Liverpool, a small brown flaking painted house with no front yard and damp in the kitchen, is a small girl playing in the overgrown greenery with a mass of Barbie dolls. She's content and merry until a familiar hand reaches over and snatches the plastic toy from her hand "Kathrin!"
She snaps up with a glare to the other child, who pays her no mind as she brushes the hair of the doll and smile, a smile she'd stolen "it's my doll, Kaitlin."
"No its mine!" she screams, standing to her feet and pushing the girl to the ground before snatching the doll back from the girl now crying in the mud, her new dress ruined
"Daddy!" Kathrin screams causing every bone in her sister's body frozen as the brawling man bounces out, thick glasses resting on his drinker's nose, the stale stench of cider seeping from every pour
His blue eyes scream rage as he races to grip the tender shoulders of his daughter with fear in her eyes "what have I told you? Little shit!"
Kathrin smiles maliciously through her tears as the ferocious man drags his daughter through the yard "Daddy, no I … Mummy!"
With horror and fear a short woman with brown eyes and fair skin, hair falling down her shoulders as she grips her husband's arm pleading "David no, Leave her alone!"
He has no regard for her cries as his hand swings back, smacking her brutally to the ground "shut up Lana!"
"Daddy, no, I'll be good, I'll be good!" Kaitlin screams as he opens the door of the shed and mercilessly throws her inside and padlocks the door, securing the key in his pocket before slapping the door to stop her banging
He steps over his sobbing wife with a raging purple jaw and tends to Kathrin with a compassion he held only for her, his princess
"I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry…" her mum, crawling to sit beside the slither of a window, refusing to leave her child to suffer alone
As David lovingly picks up his little girl Kathrin looks to the sobbing girl in the window, the girl with her face and with a smirk sticks out her tongue… leaving her mother and twin sister to bleed
July 28th 2010-
She was frustrated; patience is not a virtue she held in high regard so when the second week had passed with so little information she was pissed, could you blame her.
She'd herd whispers of the name Moriarty, but no one had actually told her anything.
So she made arrangements to meet up with a repeat client Harry Stanley, who was far too pretty and had more hair product than she did, with a thick cockney tilt and thinks himself a gangster. He is in a way; he was building slowly from the street pusher he started out as anyway.
Walking into a small café a girl with bleached blonde hair, backcombed within an inch of its life, a green juicy tracksuit in matching stilettos and with an extra swagger of those curvaceous hips
"Bunny, over here!" calls Harry with those sweet grey eyes over to the blonde girl he'd come to know as a reliable mark.
You don't get a reputation by messing up
She struts over to him like the undiscovered wag she'd led him to believe she was. They kiss cheeks as she sits and pops the Juicy chewy with Manchurian twang "Alright Harry, babes"
"Am good Bunny, am good, bit of a thorn in my side though, how's tricks?" he smiles sipping at his coffee while leaning back in a low white v-neck
The girl he called Bunny sat teasing the caramel latte, now the brunette girl underneath the chav hated anything coffee, but the blonde strumpet liked it "Never better babes. Let's get on yeah; I'm getting me nails done in half hour"
He nods and smiles, handing her a photograph of a scruffy bearded man with bald head, she'd seen him with Harry before, was a bookie or something, there's an address and a time on the back "the details alright for you?"
She smiles, chewing like a cow "no prob's. Got what I want?"
She slides the picture into her bra as he leans in, grey eyes staring into green orbs as he warns sincerely "Bunny listen, this Moriarty guy is big business, big scary shit… I don't think you want in on that"
She traces his hand with her sparkly press-on nails "Harry, babes, am a big girl"
She's more than aware of his little crush, but considering she's the one he hired to knock off his last girlfriend she never acted on it. Besides he's an idiot
Hesitantly he sighs, looking to the surrounding people as he all but whispers "Moriarty is a consulting criminal, he's the fella bosses go to when their fucked basically, sorts them out, but from what I've heard the lads a nutter!"
A small smile creeps to her face as she nods "How do I find him?"
"look, Bunny, if you've got a problem let me help coz' this fella…ah" he stops with a pained yelp as those pretty press-ons bite into the skin
That picturesque now hard as stone "How…"
It's not a question, it's an order "Fuck, Bunny! I don't know, he finds people I don't fucking know how!"
Standing she snarls angrily, not looking back to see the blood dripping onto the table because now she could find him instead of feeling his eyes on her at every turn without action.
She really hated waiting
Meanwhile Jim sat in his perfectly crafted penthouse, so much better than those stuffy capping trips his dad used to make him go on. He'd spent all the last two weeks digging, watching, never let it known that Jim Moriarty didn't do his research.
She'd killed three people in the past week, one of which she had actually skinned for information… then just to hear him scream.
So far he knew she got her nickname the Jackrabbit by racing off before anyone could even think about catching her, that along with her pretty little tattoo and her appearance. It was a known fact the jackrabbit was a woman but everyone who'd ever claimed to have met her gave outstandingly different descriptions.
She'd appeared several years ago out of thin air after blackmailing a Member of Parliament by exposing with his affair, he stopped paying and the next day the video was viral, his wife was distraught…and his boyfriend wasn't too happy either… so when the parliament member turned up with a slit throat, his mouth sliced open to make a smile with his eyes crossed out there were a number of suspects
He'd had eyes watching her, he'd seen the head haired woman go into a posh looking flat, but never came back out. His desk was now scattered in pictures of every woman who came and went.
She was a hired killer, exploiter who was known for enjoying her work and her bad temper. He could use someone like that since Sebastian was put away, careless boy
Other than her flat he didn't know much about her, she covered her tracks well, she was clever and if there's one thing Jim like's its clever
So naturally he did the only thing he could do, ordered a car so he could go snooping while she was out. Everyone loves a good snoop
Scarlet Gardens, a white washed apartment complex with an ignorant receptionist too busy on her phone to be of any use
Thankfully there was a little old man talking up the man who lived in the flat across to one of Jim's guards "well we don't see him mind, but busy boy he is! Girls coming in and out all the time, reminds me of my younger days…"
Jim acts interested with a fold of his arms "Oh really, so this Casanova lives across from you in…?"
"6C but I…" Jim doesn't stick around to listen, instead pulling out his precious blackberry and twiddling away.
The guard he called Jerry, because he could never remember his name, knelt picking the lock while Jim typed away until a loud click echoes through the hall. The goon stands while Jim makes his way in "oh, be a lamb and wait outside will you boys"
As the door close's he jumps slightly as 'Dancing Queen' blears from the motion detector rigged stereo facing him across the room soaked in blood and ebony.
Jim laughed with a clap of his hands at the song as he takes in the surroundings. A terrace window shining light onto the treadmill beside a crimson couch with black sequin cushions and a matching chair facing the forty inch flat screen, hah, his was fifty!
He noticed a large convince hanging on the wall of two small children on a mountain of what seemed to be guns. He recognized it as something from a street artist, Bugsy maybe? It sat beside a large built in shelf holing a collection of dvd's, from Disney to Horror
He dances over to the matching kitchen and opens the fridge, nearly recoiling at the lack of actual food. Oh it's far from empty, but packed with junk food and fizzy dinks causing him to raise a brow before walking into the small hallway, finding a door on either side.
With a finger to his chin Jim hums before pointing "eeny-meeny-miney-mo…"
His finger landing on the white door to the left, whistling to himself as he gently turns the knob "my, my… no place like home indeed"
He giggles merrily to the glittering yellow brick floor and emerald shined walls, a red robe and slippers hung up by the jocose tub, he walks over to the mirrored medicine cabinet, casually throwing painkillers and what have you over his shoulder before working out "boring…"
As Jim opens the other door, beginning to sense a theme with the feather walls painted with a red castle in the distance of a vast kingdom with large flowers and a smile without a head, a strange little tea party painted near the door he'd passed through. The floor a crimson painted oak with a large canopy bed laced with fairy lights and with a worn plush pink rabbit sat centered between the rose patterned sheets. A large dollhouse sat proudly in the left corner with a TV mounted on the wall.
But something was missing; something an ordinary person would miss. Luckily Jim Moriarty is far from ordinary.
Jim skips over to the large canvas of a rabbit applying makeup in a vanity mirror, the canvas from floor to ceiling. With just a light push the canvas slides along with ease to reveal a walk in wardrobe "down the rabbit hole we go…"
He walks into the room, her sanctuary to find outfits paired with wings on hangers an armoire of weaponry from a Barrett .50cal rifle all the way down to a Buck PakLite Skinner knife. She had very and skill.
The Jackrabbit was known for her various methods of destroying and disaster. She didn't have a trademark as such, more of a 'why not?' attitude. She liked getting her hands dirty, unlike her guest
Jim looks over to the large vanity mirror, something catching his scrutinizing black orbs. Nimble fingers slipping a picture from the frame of the mirror with an almost thoughtful look as he flips it to read the scribbled hand writing on the back "well someone's a nosey nelly"
Slowly he turns to see a blonde in a tracksuit "I liked you better as a redhead"
She laughs with a shrug, falling into her London tone flawlessly "me to, but needs must. You found me, I'm impressed. Did you go through my underwear draw yet?"
"Not yet, anything interesting in there?" he asks, setting the creased picture down
As he steps out she smiles, kicking off the dreadful heels and answers while kicking them across the room "oh all sorts of treats"
Jim walks over to her with a bounce in her step and a cocky grin "oh naughty girl. Love the décor by the way"
She walks past him, brushing close as she speaks "I like fairytale's"
"Boring…" Jim sighs with a roll of those black eyes before watching her gently shake put her chocolate curls from the vanilla coating
She walks back out giggling; now wearing pink gym shorts and a flash t-shirt "Not like that silly bean. I never really watch the endings, they make no sense. The hero is just so predictable, following all those little rules, while the villain destroys them only to lose to some pansy? I think I'm the only one who actually wanted Voldemort to kill Harry"
"That boy was would be long dead if Voldemort had played a better game… you can lose the accent now" he muses as they make their way back into the living room. The brunette stops dead, looking in the eye with her opal green contacts still hiding glittering azure before smiling and jumping up onto the kitchen counter, letting her scouse tongue break free "you are clever. I like that"
Jim leans forward on the island beside her; some would say to close for people who've only met once "oh I know kitten. I'm the big… bad…wolf and I'm in need of someone to take care of some pesky grandmothers. Interested?"
His hands have found their way to rest either side of her small huddled frame; it looked almost threatening until she giggles "don't forget the woodcutters. Oh Jimmy-boy, you are so cute. What do I get?"
A Cheshire cat smile creeps through on his face "you get to play my game… and win"
Her head cocks to the side, one of the tinted shears falling as she looks up pretending to think it over while tapping her fingers to her lips "ooh a challenge. I really like winning…"
Without warning her arms flung around his shoulders "I don't really play well with others but…I'll think it over"
Jim helps her off the island with strong hands gipping her hips, a raised brow and menacingly seductive smile in place "you and I are could have so much fun together! … but first you need to do daddy a little favor…your name? I'll find it out one way or another… this way you stay pretty"
Doll like hands fiddle with his tie as she smirks, he's so close she could smell him the scent of expensive sweetened aftershave, Vanilla and Ginger lined with the crispness of fabric softener and something twined with copper and musk, something all him "I don't normally… but for the infamous Jim Moriarty? …Kaitlin Meadows"
Taking her hand he lifts the frail killing machine to trace a kiss over each knuckle without taking his eyes off her "pretty name, Kaitlin"
"Thanks Jim" he watches her for a long moment, searching into the flirty smile and mismatched eyes that scream at him, screaming for something the mastermind can't figure out "well I best be off, bombs to build and people to stalk"
Kaitlin pouts lightly before asking "aw, that mean you won't be stalking me anymore? I was just starting to like all those eyes on me"
His feather soft fingers grip her chin and pouts with her "aw, don't fret kitten, I'll still be watching. You are very fun to look at after all"
She stands with a sense of pride before he takes a card from his jacket pocket and slips it onto the island behind her "cheerio little Kaitlin"
"Ta-ta, Jimmy" he walks back to the door before smiling back at the murder. This could definitely be fun
Once he's out of sight Kaitlin notices the contact on the floor, turning to take the card with a little note written
When I call answer
Jim x
The curved beauty loops the card through her fingers, momentarily wondering how he's got her number before skipping to her room merrily. She slides the card into the side of the mirror before picking up the picture that had caught Jim's eye.
The photo is of a ten year old Kaitlin and her mother's arms wrapped tightly around her, both smiling happily with the Liver Birds in the back ground, the words 'me and mummy'
Kaitlin all but shines down to the picture "Mum, you're going to be so proud of me… "
Meanwhile as Jim makes his way back the waiting car he texts;
Kaitlin Meadows, Liverpool, age range 21 to 25. Find me everything. Don't disappoint
Jim sits smiling to himself, pleased with acquiring a new toy. He only hoped she lived up to the task, I'd be a shame to have to kill such an entertaining distraction