The last chapter. But there's gonna be an epilogue. I'll prolly post that later today.

Disclaimer: see Prologue

Title: taken from Murray Head's One Night in Bangkok.

Chapter 20: I can feel the devil walking next to me

Jim healed fast, considering the damage. For a week he was lying on the couch, gaining his strength back, relying on the pills only when the pain got impossible to bear. After a week, he got up for the first time, and another week later, he was already back to his old self, plotting and scheming.

Only at nights, when he was alone in his flat, he was thinking. That had been pretty close. If Cinzia had been a better shot, he would be dead now. He needed protection. Somehow it hurt him to admit to it, but then again, he also felt a certain pride. He had come so far… So he did the most sensible thing he could think of. He gave Sebastian the guest-bedroom in his flat and appointed him, for the time he was there, as his bodyguard. Sebastian didn't seem to mind working that close to Jim and having to sacrifice his life should the need arise.

The next thing Jim did was sending Sorcha to the shooting range. Sebastian was a brilliant shot, even at close range, but Sorcha needed practise. Jim wasn't sure she would have managed to kill Shoshanna Harper, even with the gun against the woman's temple.

And then Jim decided to test Sebastian's abilities on the rifle. And he knew just the right person to play the target. Frank. Frank, his first client. The man who had so viciously taken his virginity, had forced himself onto him, into him, who had abused him even when he was out. Frank would make a nice target for Sebastian. And then there was Patrick. He left Patrick to Sorcha. He was actually curious to know if she could really kill. So he sent them to Dublin. Both got back the same evening, with the scalps of their victims in their hands. Jim couldn't quite hide his pride. Finally he had two killers in his rows. No need to get his own hands dirty anymore: he could hide in the background, pull the strings, and enjoy the advantages of being the big boss.

Yet, there was one thing left that had to be done, and Jim would do it with his own hands. Simon Milverton. Charlie Milverton's brother. The one that had taken the pictures. He would die. And it would be by Jim's hand. Yes, Jim was somehow thankful that it had happened the way it did, because, lord, Sebastian was a fucking god behind the scope of a sniper rifle. Yet, Jim had to make a stand: if word got out he had lost against Charlie Milverton, it would considerably damage his reputation, even more so if he just appeared to accept the defeat. So, he would need to strike back. He could of course just go and off Charlie, but he was just the pawn in the game, and Jim was done dealing with pawns. He wanted to strike where it hurt. He would hurt Charlie Milverton by killing his brother. And the most perfect occasion proved to be Christmas.

Simon Milverton got official leave for Christmas because of his loyal service (read, because he discovered the wrongdoings of Colonel Moran) and had decided to spend it in London with his family. Jim's contact in the military let him know the exact time and date of when Milverton would land at Heathrow. Jim sent Anya, one of his most charming girls. She chatted him up casually, and Simon was just as much a lady's man than his brother. So they went for drinks, which Anya spiked with a healthy dose of roofies. Then Jim got him transported to a warehouse where he had him wrapped up like a present, before he sent his men away, sat down, and waited.

Milverton woke up about two hours later. He moaned, but was immediately alert (as alert as you could be) when he noticed he was bound and lying on the ground. "What the…"

"I wouldn't trash around if I were you. No one's gonna hear you anyways."

"Who are you?" Simon moaned.

"I am Jim Moriarty. By the way, Sebastian Moran sends his love."

Simon grinned, "Moran? Still alive he is, then?"

"More alive than ever, I guess." Jim got up from his chair and walked over to Simon. "And he will throw a party once I tell him that you're no longer walking the face of the earth. Now, Simon, I wouldn't be that angry if you had just gone to your supervisor and told him what Sebbie did. That's what the good people do. But you, however, you blackmailed somebody, and that I cannot accept."

"Fuck off. He didn't deserve any better."

"See, that's what I mean. Your brother took it one step too far by trying to blackmail Sebbie's sister."

"Oh, this is what it's all about?" He chuckled. "My little baby brother just likes women; nothing wrong with that."

"That's what you say. Blackmailing a woman into having sex with you is really not okay. However, I will let him live. Just because I find that it's much more rewarding killing the one who started all this. That was you, by the way. And then, maybe later, when I'm bored, I'll go to Charlie and kill him, too. But now, it's your turn." Jim smiled, "And I will make it worth your while." He ran his finger over the chain that held Simon's dog tags. "That feels good, really. Maybe I should ask Sebastian for his; he'll get a new pair soon. What do you think?"

"Don't touch them. You aren't man enough to be one of us."

Jim tilted his head, "You're about to die, and you're still talking big. Aw, well. I'll guess I'll better get to work then. Now, I picked this warehouse for a very good reason. Nobody ever comes here. Nobody lives close by. Nobody will hear you. With the way you're chained to that wall, you won't be able to free yourself. You will starve to death here. Now, Bobby Sands died after sixty-six days. That's quite a long time. And I hear it's ugly. Oh no." He shook his head sadly. And then he smiled, "But I am not a monster, Simon dear. So, I will let you choose. You either starve. Or I will cut out your tongue and let you bleed to death here. Then I will take your body and put it on show for everyone. That will teach them not to cross James Moriarty. Of course I might choose to display it right in your parents' garden."

"Please don't."

"Begging won't get you anywhere. Your brother didn't react to my begging, either. It's either or. And the longer you think…" Jim made a step towards the door.

"No, wait, stop! Please, what can I do to…"

"Nothing, Simon. There is nothing you can do. You will die. Either tonight or in… about sixty-six days. That's two months. A long time when you have nothing to eat." Jim made another step to the door.

"Okay, wait…" Simon was calm and collected. "I chose today."

Jim shook his head, "Shame. I would have loved to think of you as a brave man. You know, Sebastian would have chosen to starve, just so I wouldn't taunt his grieving family with his mutilated body. But I guess that's where you can tell the real from the fake." He knelt down in front of Milverton. "Well, I guess that's that, then. Any last words? While you can still talk?" Milverton spit into Jim's face. Jim didn't even flinch. "What a waste. Now, say 'ahhhhh' for me, please." Milverton gave him one last look, but then opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out.

Jim called his people to get rid of the body. He had decided to go with the original plan and dump the body at Charlie Milverton's doorstep. Nice and simple.

When he opened the door to his flat, Sebastian was sprawled out on the couch, reading a book, while Sorcha was typing away on her computer.

Both looked up when he entered the room, and Sorcha immediately dashed at his side, "Oh my God, Jim, what happened to you? Are you okay?"

Jim looked down at himself. His whole suit was drenched in blood. His hands were stained too, and he knew he had touched his face at some point, so there sure was blood on it, too. No wonder Sorcha was totally freaking out. He laid his arm around her, "Don't worry, I'm fine. Not my blood."

"Okay, then stop smearing it on me, please…" She tried to shove him away.

He held her close with a slight smirk on his face, "Stay here. I got something for you."

"Do I really want it?" She frowned.

"Yeah. Guess, which pocket?"

"Left one."

"Won't you check?"

"I am seeing all of this, James." Sebastian murmured.

Jim grinned, "Okay, okay. No games." He reached into his pocket and brought a pair of dog tags out. They were perfect, shiny, except for the blood drops on them. "Here. With love."

Sorcha took them out of his hands and checked, "Jim…" He nodded. "Oh my God."

"What is it? These are hardly engagement dog tags, so why all the fuzz? Silly girl." Sebastian rolled his eyes

"I'm not silly." She tossed the dog tags over to Sebastian.

He checked the name on them and startled, "No… You didn't…"

"I did."

Sebastian's fingers clenched around them. "How?

"Cut his tongue. I dumped him on the stairs to his brother's flat, if you hurry up, you might get a last loo…" Seb was already out of the door and slammed it shut. "I think he liked my pressie."

"I don't think he was that happy when my mam bought him Donkey Kong Country Part Three…"

"Now imagine what he will say when he comes back and I give him the tongue…"

"Jim?"

"Don't worry, I'm just kidding. Maybe." He let his eyes wander over Sorcha. "I told you it's a bad idea to wear white on the job."

"Bloody moron, it's my day off."

Jim tilted his head, "What did you just call me? I think it's time I show you who's the boss here. Since your brother is out now and surely won't be returning any time soon…" He leaned in, "What do you say?"

"I say you're completely sick."

"Come on, Moran, if I was a soldier returning from a battle you'd clean me up, too. Just imagine I was fighting some English King who tried to take over my village and rape all the women. Actually, you should be very grateful."

"I am, believe me." She gave a peck to his cheek. "That was a very sweet thing you did there for Sebastian. What can I do then to show you how thankful I am?"

"Don't worry. I'll show you."

Fluff. Well, this is it, then. Apart from the epilogue.