I know I'm late, I've just been having trouble actually writing this one. Plus laziness. Though it is a tad longer than the other ones so I hope that appeases you, and there is also a lot of...well let's just say I apologize in advance. The next chapter will be less...whatever this chapter is. And thank you all again for your lovely reviews!
Disclaimer: I only own Moira, the rest of the creepy goes to Mofftis, and Silva to whoever did Skyfall.
Good luck guys
Over the course of the night, I became less uptight and actually managed to enjoy myself, well, when I didn't have to listen to Moriarty idly chatting about murdering the Prime Minister.
What I found most interesting though, was that no one was mentioning the cane or the bruise. Most people would give it a curious look but they wouldn't bring it up. I was slightly disappointed.
It seemed to me that Moriarty enjoyed mingling like this. He would definitely make a better house wife than I ever could. I grinned, picturing him fawning over flower arrangements and serviettes and finally let out a small giggle.
"What are you smiling at?" he mumbled into my ear.
"I was just wondering what it would be like if you hosted a garden party."
Moriarty stared at me for a second before allowing himself to smile as well.
"Well, I'm sure it wouldn't be too much of a problem, what with you helping me."
I scoffed, "Are you joking? I'm getting out of here as soon as the opportunity arises."
Again, he laughed, obviously not taking what I said seriously. For some reason this frustrated me. Sebastian showed up a while later, holding two glasses of champagne. He held one out to me but before I could take it, Moriarty snatched it and drank it all in one swallow. Sebastian and I stared at him, horrified and he looked back at us confused.
"What?" he asked, honestly innocent. Sebastian glared at him and grabbed the glass back from him, passing me the other one.
"I'll be right back." he told me. "Watch him."
"Aye, aye, Colonel." I grinned, and he managed a smile before being swallowed back up by the crowds of people.
I was about to take a sip of the champagne when Moriarty snatched it from me again, downing it in one go.
"Bit of a lush, are you?" I asked playfully and he fixed me with an annoyed glance.
"It's the only way I'll survive the rest of the night at this point." he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.
We saw Sebastian returning, no champagne in his hands this time. He noticed my glass in Moriarty's hand and empty and fixed me with the same annoyed expression.
"What?" I exclaimed, "He overpowered me."
As Sebastian groaned and Moriarty giggled, I found a growing burden rising in my chest. What had I become to be here right now, joking with murders and psychopaths just like it was completely normal. And it had been less than a week in that house!
I should have run screaming the moment I had stepped out of that car, but here I was in the thick of it. My smile faded and I looked down at the floor in shame. Moriarty must have sensed something because not a moment later, I felt cool finger tips under my chin, lifting my head slowly. Another second and I was staring into a set of concerned brown eyes.
"What is it?" Moriarty asked his voice stern but laced with worry.
I looked at him and marveled at the true concern in his voice, like he actually cared. Thank God I wasn't stupid enough to believe it for a second. So, with a well practiced smile, I told him that I was, in fact fine.
"Splendid," he grinned and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine, "because there's someone I want you to meet."
I sighed as he dragged me back through the crowd with Sebastian trailing behind us. In the sea of people, I managed to catch snippets of conversations, many of which involved acts of terrorism and other such unseemly performances. I grimaced and wondered how much of a reward I would get if I were to give this information to the police.
"A shot in the head is what you'd get," Sebastian commented, completely serious as his eyes scanned the crowd, "so don't even try it."
"What's got you so pissy?" I asked, noticing his glare and tight lips.
"It's already late, I should be getting the two of you home by now." he muttered.
"And ruin the fun?" Moriarty called back, "not a chance Seb."
"Jim, you promised we would leave early." Sebastian hissed, "You need to rest-"
"Raoul!" Moriarty shouted from where we stood.
Just in front of us, a tall well-built man spun around and, upon laying his eyes on our small trio, he brightened considerably.
"Jim!"
Letting go of my hand, Moriarty stepped up to the tall man and their hands clasped tightly, each grinning brightly. I studied the man before me with a scrutinizing gaze, taking in his every aspect.
He was tall very tall, taller than Sebastian and amazingly well built. Broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw, he towered over Moriarty but that didn't seem to bother the shorter man. His blonde hair fell into his eyes and he had a wonderful smile.
"How long has it been this time?" the man asked. His accent suggested Spain.
"Since The Nylon? I'd say about a year." Moriarty answered, "We really can't make this a habit."
The tall man's eyes skidded to Sebastian behind me and stepped past Moriarty to shake his hand. I stepped out of the way and glanced at Moriarty, whose smile was wide and his eyes sparkled. I was permanently amazed; I hadn't even thought Moriarty could have friends outside of Sebastian.
"Sebastian Moran," the Spanish man greeted. His voice was low and his words rolled off his tongue with an attractive ease. "I never had the chance to thank you for the Paris job."
"It was nothing, Mr. Silva." Sebastian smiled, albeit tightly. He was still pissed off at Moriarty and I though he was doing a marvelous job trying to hide it.
Finally, the man turned to me and fixed me with his dazzling smile. I found myself blushing horribly and his deep laugh really only made it worse. He stepped forward and I dropped my head, glaring angrily at the ground until I felt his large, rough hand take mine, bringing it to his lips.
"And you are, my dear?"
My eyes were wide and unmoving as I stared at him. My throat had somehow gone incredibly dry and my face was crimson. Though, the more uncomfortable I became, the larger his grin grew and just as I thought it would split his face in two Moriarty jumped in.
"Moira," he nearly shouted, coming between the two of us, "this is my Moira."
The blonde man looked confused for a moment, "Your-"
His eyes trailed down and finally landed on the wedding rings on our fingers, which had somehow gotten entwined once more.
"Ah, I see." He remarked knowingly, "well congratulations Jim." Turning back to me, he dipped his head in a bow.
"Raoul Silva, my dear."
"A-a p-pleasure I'm sure." I managed to squeak. Moriarty coughed awkwardly to get our attention.
"Shall we take a seat? I'm sure I'm quite famished."
"Jim, I-" Sebastian's voice was low and agitated but with a simple wave from Moriarty, he fell silent.
Sebastian glared at the short Irishman and bared his teeth. I was about to go back to him but before I could release myself from Moriarty's grip, he had disappeared once more into the crowd. My face fell as I stared after the sniper, the growing feeling of unease in my stomach increasing tenfold.
"So Raoul," Moriarty began, "where is that precious little MI-6 number you had on your arm last time we met? You seemed quite taken with her at the time."
We were seated at a small table in the center of the crowds of people. Having ordered some food, to keep us from keeling over for the rest of the night, Moriarty and Raoul chatted mindlessly about subjects that did not pertain to me.
So I sat awkwardly, still keeping my eyes open for Sebastian who had failed to return and stabbing at my dessert. Raoul sighed and pushed away his plate. He ran a hand through his thick blonde hair and fixed Moriarty with a look that nearly made me melt to the floor.
"You were right."
And it seemed nothing more needed to be said between the two.
"Now, Jim dear, explain to me why your face looks as though it's been trampled by a rampant elephant?"
"Finally," I cried, ever triumphant, "someone noticed!"
"Subtle as ever, Raoul." Moriarty muttered looking ever the pouting child.
"I'm not pouting!" he hissed.
"Then explain it." Raoul was now leaning forward, his head resting on his hand.
Moriarty mumbled something intelligible and looked down at his plate, viciously attacking his steak.
"What was that?" Raoul called.
"I was…inconsiderate when speaking to a beautiful young lady and suffered the consequences."
My mouth fell open and I stared at the man next to me, trying to make himself as small as possible. That was it? No deterring the blame? No saying it was my fault? No death threats or wall cornering?
"Wall cornering?" Silva remarked with a smile.
Moriarty's eyes snapped to mine and we both hid our scarlet faces. Raoul laughed and proceeded to put his knife and fork elegantly on his plate, signaling that he had completed his meal.
Abruptly, he stood pushing his chair out from behind him. He bowed his head once more and smiled slightly. Moriarty stood as well and I followed suit.
"Now," Raoul chimed, "if you will excuse me, I have an appointment to keep."
"Of course," Moriarty added and the two men shook hands, "Don't be a stranger, now."
The blonde Spaniard grinned and turned to me, once again taking my hand. His lips brushed against it and I felt like I would tip over.
"It was splendid meeting you as well, Moira. Jim is a lucky man."
I pulled myself from my rumination and smiled up at him, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my cheeks or my hammering heart.
"Yeah, try telling him that."
Another brilliant grin and he straightened, nodding at Moriarty and disappearing back into the crowd. As I watched him go, my hand gripped the chair to my left and my legs felt weak.
"Now that, that is a man."
An undignified gasp came from Moriarty and I caught him staring at me with two very wide eyes. He looked horribly affronted and his hand clutched his heart dramatically.
"And what, pray tell, would you call me?"
I thought for a moment, my eyes scanning him with a smile on my face.
"A work in progress, and thank you for the apology."
"Apology?" Moriarty cocked his head to the side, "what apology?"
"Well, it wasn't exactly an apology but I figure it's as close as I'll get to one."
"That's right," he grumbled, "Consulting criminals never apologize-"
"Shh," I shushed him, stepping forward to fix his crooked tie, "don't ruin the moment."
His big brown eyes looked down at me as I straightened the red fabric and patted his chest lightly once it was no longer crooked. With my hands still there, I looked up and our eyes locked. He was smiling a small, happy smile. Not a cruel smirk or an insane grin but just a small smile.
"If you were like this all the time," I commented, "I would have no qualms about staying in that big old house with you."
"Really?" he asked his voice high and hopeful.
"Hmm, maybe." I looked down, avoiding his eyes and staring at his tie pin, a skull and crossbones of course. Give him an eye patch and he'd make a great pirate. "Though there is that little issue of your kidnapping me in the first place."
"I'm sure we can overlook that."
"Mmm, doubt it."
Over the crowd, I heard the band strike up a tune. It wasn't exactly a waltz but it was for dancing. Moriarty must have heard it as well, because he leant it can on the table and took my hand, winking at me.
"They're playing our song."
I shook my head slowly but followed him to the dance floor. What harm could one dance do, it wasn't like if he could kill me out in the open like this. Plus, if he did I could take comfort in the fact that Sebastian would give him proper Hell.
We reached the tiled floor and stood facing each other. Moriarty put a hand on my waist and I, a hand on his shoulder. Then, taking my other hand in his, we began to sway softly to the music.
"You do look breathtaking tonight." He beamed.
"You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Moriarty."
"Jim, please."
"I don't think so." His face fell just a little and I felt a nagging guilt in the back of my mind.
"Oh don't give me that face, think of it from my point of view."
He sighed and nodded. "Yes I suppose I understand."
"What's wrong with you tonight? You seem so agreeable."
"Would you rather I wasn't?" he remarked with a low voice.
My face paled and my chest heaved. "N-no I j-just m-meant-"
His giggle brought my eyes to his face and I glared at him. He was grinning like an idiot and his eyes twinkled, full of mischief.
"You ass." I fumed, very close to breathing fire.
"You're just so easy to frighten, it's adorable."
"You're a brute," I growled, though it was only halfhearted, "frightening young girls who are just trying to-"
BANG
BANG
BANG
I shrieked as something warm and wet splattered across my face. Letting go of Moriarty, I wiped a hand across my cheek and it came back red, all red. My hand began to shake and my legs trembled under me, threatening to give way. My eyes moved slowly from my hand and to the ground where a body laid, three bullet holes disfiguring his face entirely.
I did not notice two large men come forward and drag away the shooter. I did notice however, the blood pouring out of the dead man's wounds. My breath hitched in my throat and became erratic. I must have been right behind the man because the blood not only covered my face but the side of my arm and dress as well.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Moriarty take a step towards me, saying something and holding his arms out to me, but I could not hear him. The ringing in my ears drowned out anything he was trying to say.
I felt his hands brush my arms and I flinched away, taking a step back. My eyes were wide and feral, my breathing fast and my heart hammering so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest. The room was spinning and my hand shot out to grab onto something as my legs started to give way.
Moriarty reached out to grab me but I jumped away, adrenaline just beginning to race through my blood. Right now it was either fight or flight and I was planning on doing both. Terror ripped through me and as Moriarty took another step towards me, his eyes pleading and his face full of worry, I lashed out, my nails scraping across his cheek.
As he doubled over, clutching his face, I took the opportunity to throw myself into the crowd, pushing and shoving to get through, to find an exit. People were panicking, racing out of the way and trying to find the doors. I did not bother with doors; I just wanted to get out of this crowd, away from that body and Moriarty.
Finally, shoving through the last of the screaming people, I found myself in front of a hallway. Racing down it I threw myself through the first door I saw which, thank the Lord, turned out to be the washroom. What luck, eh?
Slamming the door shut behind me, I knew I was having a panic attack and that I needed to calm down, I needed to think straight. Sliding down against the wall of the bathroom, I put my head in my hands and breathed deeply, trying to get back in control.
Once I could think relatively clearly, I began to wipe at my face, each time my hand came back with blood. Standing shakily and leaning against the wall for help, I went over to the sink and stared into the mirror.
Yes, the entire half of my face was covered with the blood of that man. I whimpered and clutched the sink until my knuckles were white. Turning around and still gripping the sink, my eyes scanned the room for anything that could help me at this moment.
At last, my eyes found a window on the opposite wall and my heat leapt. Throwing off my shoes, I staggered over to it and began trying to open it.
"What do we have here?" a voice inquired from behind me.
Letting go of the latch on the window, I turned slowly, my chest tightening at the sound of that voice. Leaning against the door frame, a grin on his long face was Charles Augustus Magnussen. While there was a smile on his face, his eyes held no emotion whatsoever. It unnerved me to the core.
Straightening, Magnussen took a step towards me and I took a step back so that my back hit the wall. Why had I run into the bathroom, there was no where I could go and if I turned around to open the window, he would simply come at me from behind.
"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
"Now," he purred, taking another step towards me. "Is that anyway to speak to a man you've only just met?
I could not retreat as he advanced on me.
"And besides, I simply wish to help a beautiful woman in need."
"I am not in need, thank you very much. And if you don't mind, I'd rather you left me alone."
"Ohhh, I knew I liked you, so much arrogance in that tiny body. And look, you're even covered in blood. How very….Valkyrian."
"I assure you, it wasn't intentional." I bit back but I felt my legs becoming very close to giving way.
"Well then, let's clean you up, shall we?"
He was right in front of me now, inches away. He knelt down and from his pocket, produced a white handkerchief which he ran his tongue over. I pushed his hand away as he brought the handkerchief to my face.
"Ah, ah." He chided, gripping my wrists.
Once again, he brought the damp cloth us to my face and began to wipe at the blood. The saliva which soaked the cloth was warm and I scrunched my face up as it left a wet trail on my cheek.
"The faces you make are precious," he cooed as he continued to wipe at the blood on my face.
"Stop it." I hissed, trying to stretch my face away from him as well as trying to free my hands from his grip.
Magnussen only smiled and ran his tongue over another part of the handkerchief, rubbing it across my cheek.
"I believe the lady asked you to stop." Another voice growled from the doorway.
Magnussen stood up, releasing my hands and allowing my legs to give way. I fell to my knees and shut my eyes tightly, trying to control my breathing. I wouldn't let the tears fall, not yet.
"Ah, Sebastian Moran, is it?" Magnussen remarked, "yes I know you."
"I suggest you leave, Mr. Magnussen," Sebastian snarled, "because there is absolutely no reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now."
"Actually, there is. I seem to recall a young French girl whose life I could make very difficult indeed."
Sebastian made no noise for a moment but I could tell that he was furious.
"Get. out. Now."
"Certainly." Magnussen chirped and I heard the click of his shoes as he walked across the tiled floor. "This was fun precious; we simply must do it again some time."
And then there silence. Wrapping my arms around myself, I let out a quick, shaky breath, then another and another until I began to hyperventilate. Another set of shoes raced across the bathroom floor and I felt someone kneel down beside me.
"Oh Moira," Sebastian muttered sympathetically, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, "Jim! JIM, I'VE GOT HER!"
"Moira!" Moriarty shouted as he threw himself through the bathroom door.
At the sound of his voice, a loud, harsh sob ripped through my body and the tears began to pour down my face. Later, Moriarty would tell me that it was the most heartbreaking sound he'd ever heard. He crouched down in front of me and Sebastian backed away, standing beside the sink, watching me with a pitying expression.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." He whispered.
I continued to sob and he wrapped me in his embrace. I clung to his shirt, my tears mixing with the blood that was still on my face. At that moment, it didn't matter that he had kidnapped me or that he was a criminal mastermind bent on destroying the world. What mattered was that he was there.
"Let's go home." He mumbled as he stroked my hair comfortingly.
I had never been so happy to hear those words.
I'm sorry! *ducks behind lamp*
Now, I don't usually do sad things, but I did want to put in a bit more drama. Hopefully it won't have to happen again and we can continue this story on a lighter note. The next chapter will definitely be lighter.
And on the subject of Raoul Silva, he is of course from Skyfall and also in my other fanfiction Untitled for Now. That MI-6 agent mentioned is my OC L also in Untitled for Now. You should read it. Not to toot my own horn, but it's pretty good.
I do hope you enjoyed this one and that you won't hate me for putting poor Moira through all this. It is necessary, I assure you. It builds character.
Remember, Read + Review = Chapters
~U-Hinged