What surprised John was how easy it was to work for Jim. Jim had kept his word, John wasn't asked to kill again, instead, he was saving lives. Even if they were the lives of the various thieves, assassins and bodyguards in Jim's employ.

He worked mainly alone, although recently, a young woman had been assisting him. Daisy was a nice enough girl and if John had been a few years younger, he might have thought he stood a chance with her, but she was smart and friendly, and besides, it was good to have company.

Every day was different, sometimes, he'd be picking out bullets, other times, he'd be administering shots to employees who were going abroad for Jim's work. John remembered the first time he worked on Sebastian.

"Ow, ow, ow! FUCK!" Sebastian rolled his neck, which gave an ominous crack. "Uhhh, fuck, shit, you, you bastard…"

"If I'm such a bastard, how about I leave this cut to get infected?"

"Oh, shut up, I'm just…uh."

"Look, how about I do it as fast as I can, and then you can go, ok?"

And from then, Sebastian would drop in to see John, when Seb wasn't busy.

Sometimes, John would be working with Daisy in a set of rooms Jim had bought, especially bought for this purpose, but sometimes he'd be instructed to be in a certain area, at a specific team. Although Jim rarely did physical work for his operations, on the occasions he did, he'd come to John when in need of treatment.

"So, John boy, I was getting information from a nice gentleman earlier, and he chose to bite me."

Or "Johnny, I'm going to need to go to Morocco, don't ask. What shots will I need?"

John had completely erased his first impression of Jim Moriarty. The man wasn't weedy and camp, he was brilliant. Clever and funny, he knew the exact flaws and strengths of everyone he encountered. And he made John feel like what he was doing mattered.

Sebastian felt the same. It had shocked John when once, Jim had congratulated Sebastian on a job well done, and patted him on the head. Like a dog. The goofy, sycophantic expression Sebastian had worn sickened John, a bit. He found it worrying that he most likely wore the same expression when Jim praised him.

But it was hard to be negative about a job that paid well, got him to meet new people and challenge himself, and even make a friend. John wasn't sure if he could call Jim a friend but he liked Sebastian's company and the two would sometimes go for a drink or a meal, and on one memorable occasion, a rugby match. Sebastian had punched a rival fan on the nose. John had had to drag Seb away.

One night, John was at home, in his flat. He'd been in a measly bedsit, but with the wage Jim gave him, he'd upgraded. It was miles away from the luxury Jim lived in, but it suited John's needs perfectly. He was planning to microwave a ready meal, but for the moment, he was channel-hopping on the television. He was just settling down to watch a game show he'd recorded earlier, when there was a loud knocking at his door. John glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall. It was nine at night; this couldn't be a social call. He quickly picked up his trusty Browning (since joining Jim's forces, he never liked to be unarmed) and he went to answer the door.

"Johnny!" Jim beamed, his smile as wide as the host of the game show John had been watching. "We brought take-out!"

Sebastian, standing on the front path, (there wasn't enough space for both him and Jim to stand on the doorstep) nodded to him and waved a white paper bag, like a flag.

"Dim Sum!" Seb said grinned, although the smile didn't meet his eyes.

"Can we come in?" Jim cooed, straightening his tie.

"Uh, sure…" John said uncertainly, and stood back to let them in. He could hardly say no, could he?

Seb dumped the bag on the sofa, while Jim prowled around the living room. If John had ever felt self-conscious around Jim Moriarty, he'd never felt like this. He wasn't a slob, and his current living quarters were far better than what he would have been able to afford on an army pension, but seeing Jim here in a black-pinstriped suit and white tie, looking like a Calvin Klein model, John felt horribly bland by comparison.

"Nice place you've got," Jim said, picking up a framed photograph of Harry and examining it. Seb grimaced at John in an understanding way.

"Er, thanks, boss-" John said.

Jim smiled again. For some reason, it always seemed to cheer him up when John called him that. Probably because John didn't do it often.

"We should probably make a start on the food, it'll get cold. Come on, Sebby, shake a leg!"

Seb looked nonplussed, but he sat on the sofa as John ran to get plates. When John returned, Jim was sat in the single armchair.

John distributed the food between them, but neither of his guests were that hungry. Seb picked at his food, with his eyes downcast, while Jim tapped his foot on the carpet, ate a few forkfuls of rice and then seemed to tire of dining.

"So, John, I was going to wait until after you boys had eaten, but I'm just too excited! I'm promoting you!"

John paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "You're- uh, I wasn't aware we did things like that…" As he said it, he wasn't as certain as he thought. It was always clear that Sebastian was Jim's unofficial right-hand man, which wasn't a questionable choice as Seb had always proved himself to be capable, at least from what John had seen. But he was a doctor, he patched up Jim's allies, workers and men Jim needed to keep alive long enough to talk to. John was aware he was outside the normal hierarchy of Jim's men. If he asked for something, more supplies, more space to work in, more funds, he got it. He didn't take advantage of it though, he only asked for what he needed for work. Maybe this was why Jim was promoting him.

"You've barely touched your food, Sebastian," Jim said sharply, staring at Sebastian's almost full plate. Seb glanced at him and began to shovel in forkfuls of chicken.

"You've really impressed me, John. Your attitude, your abilities. I think you could go far…under my direction of course." Jim patted his mouth with a serviette. "I think there could be more for you than patching up my friends."

"I- I really enjoy working for you, Jim," John said tentatively. "How exactly would my workload change?"

"Oh, doctor, you're so cautious! It's sweet! It's a great job, honestly, you'll love it. Have you finished your food? Good. Basically, some busybody has been disrupting what we do here." Jim reached across and his fingers lightly closed around John's wrists. His hand was warm but John shivered. Jim was always very tactile, brushing lint off John's jacket, ruffling Seb's hair. It wasn't an unexpected gesture but John's insides quivered all the same. There was something about Jim that just made him react. His beloved boss' handsome face, but also the darkness in his eyes- it reminded him how dangerous Jim really was. It made him glad they were on the same side.

"That's terrible. Who is it, a police officer, a journalist, a new detective inspector looking to assert himself amongst his colleagues?" Jim had dealt with such people before.

"True, they are concerns for us. But it's someone…different. Fresh blood. Frankly, I've never heard of anyone like him. And that intrigues me."

Seb and John's eyes met over Jim's shoulder. John read the distress in Seb's gaze and expected it mirrored his own. Was it possible that he was jealous? And Seb was too? The sound in Jim's voice, the quiet wonder lacing his words, it made John's fist clench. He suddenly felt small and insignificant. He wanted to grab Jim by the lapels and crush him to his chest. But that would be remarkably foolish.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much of a threat is he?" John asked, trying to sound calm. He didn't want to sound uninterested because he was invested in this, but he hoped Jim wouldn't pick up on his petty jealousy.

"Forget everything you know about dealing with our enemies. Forget bribery- there's nothing he wants, only answers. Forget blackmail- I've had my hackers look him up, there's nothing on him except records of drug use, and he doesn't hide that. No sex scandals, no covered-up hit and runs, DUIs, nothing unaccounted for. And I can't kidnap anyone close to him because NO ONE is close to him. He's got a brother, but that man's even more untouchable than he is." Jim raked a hand through his hair. A few strands stood up, and without thinking, John stroked Jim's hair back down. As soon as he'd done it, he drew back, horrified, an apology on his lips, but Jim smiled, and shrugged, indicating he wasn't bothered.

"John, I've never encountered someone like this. I'm floored. But I have something he doesn't have. I have you. And Seb." Jim smiled winningly at John, and Seb looked awkward. Jim had never expressed this much sentiment, this man must be a real threat, John reckoned.

"If I could just get close to him, I could find out a way to stop him. He doesn't respect people like us, John. People who know what it is to struggle. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he's got a trust fund and his family are flush. He doesn't respect anyone- if he met you, he'd dismiss you as unimportant within seconds, he treats people like he's doing them a favour by simply being in their presence. And now, he's getting bolder, and one of these days, he's going to stumble on what we've got going here. And one of these days, I'm going to lose my life's work."

John seized Jim's hand. "What can we do to stop him?"

Jim's mouth twitched, but he lowered his head, watching John through his lashes. "If we had someone who could get close to him, someone who works for me but not directly, someone who's removed from the day-to-day running of my operations, he could get information and I would be… very grateful."

John's mouth went dry. Either from excitement or apprehension about what Jim was suggesting. Or from something entirely different. "You want me to get information?"

"Yes. It would be dangerous, no question. I've received word that he's looking for a flatmate. This would be perfect, you could pose as a potential flatmate, you would move in, and then you could find out as much as you wanted. He wouldn't suspect a thing. His papers are moved? You were just dusting! You see? He's arrogant, he thinks everyone's beneath him. His arrogance will be his downfall, because he'll be sure to underestimate you."

"What does he do?"

"He's a private detective of some sort. I'm looking into it. But he's got some influence in Scotland Yard, they call him in to help on cases sometimes."

John floundered, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly for a few seconds as he tried to compose his thoughts. "A private detective? You want me to spy, to live with, a private detective?" This was insane, he couldn't seriously say yes...

"John, I'm not a begging man. But I'm in a fix, and I trust you. You're the only one who can help me. Please?" Jim's eyes were large and pleading, and John swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

"Ok, boss, I'll do it. For you. It's the least I can do, you've given me so much."

"Thanks, John." Jim said softly.

When the plates were in the dishwasher and the wrappers were in the bin, Moriarty thanked John again for accepting his offer and said he'd be in touch soon. There was an awkward moment when Jim left the flat, leaving Seb and John standing in the silence.

"So," Seb said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "You're really gonna do it."

"You don't approve?"

"Jim doesn't pay me to think. I get why you have to do this but…stay safe, ok?" Seb pulled John into a bear hug, and John gasped for air.

"I'll be fine. Still don't know why he wants me to do it and not you."

Seb looked at him thoughtfully, then slouched against the front door. "You know, when I first started working for Jim, I didn't like him. I didn't trust him. I liked the money. I'd look at him and I'd think to myself that he just looked sort of…I don't know, hollow. Kind of dead in the eyes. But I got to know him and I liked him. But then, one day, I'd come back from a job for him, and I'd had to use my gun. Multiple times,"

John wondered where Seb was taking this, but he wisely stayed silent.

"And I looked in the mirror, and I realised I looked dead in the eyes too. I didn't look like that before, I don't think. But I look at you, and you don't look like that, yet." Sebastian broke off to cough. "Whatever. Just look after yourself, ok?"

"You're a good mate, Sebastian."

"Yeah, ta. You too."

Sebastian went.