"You could do the drying up, you know," Sebastian said as he plunged his hands into the kitchen sink once again, reaching for cutlery to start scrubbing.
"It's more hygienic to leave them to dry naturally," Jim responded without a trace of guilt. After all, he was already giving Sebastian his support by sticking around while he completed his boring task. Jim was seated at the kitchen table facing Seb's back, going through his notebook and crossing things off.
"What are you up to?"
"Reading my notes."
"About?"
"I'm researching law."
Sebastian sniffed. It had ceased to concern him that Jim was routinely breaking the law and helping others to do the same. He knew now that Jim was clever and careful enough not to let himself get caught.
"Sounds a bit boring," Sebastian said, just to keep the conversation going, as he started to pile the clean plates up on the side.
Jim sighed, because it was boring. Boring and frustrating, because the police force in this country and their methods were majorly flawed. It made Jim's work far easier, because there were so many loopholes, but it irritated him that he, as a twelve year old, could have fixed the system to make it work properly if he was given a week or so. Not that he would ever have helped them. They were on the other side to Jim and they didn't deserve his aid.
"I'm diluting the boredom with maths," Jim told Sebastian solemnly. "I write equations in the margins. I have trouble with patience."
Sebastian almost scoffed. That was a bloody understatement. Jim's life seemed like an eternal quest to escape boredom and normality, to the extent that Seb could barely keep up with him sometimes. After an hour of happiness, he'd suddenly switch his personality and have a sulk. He started to throw things and get spiteful if he was kept waiting, and his chiefest source of entertainment when genuine work failed him, was playing with Sebastian's emotions. Seb was on to him, however, so it didn't particularly bother him.
"Carrie ever give you trouble now?" Sebastian asked as he started to scrub at a large colander.
"No," Jim admitted with some pride. "She's my puppet, really, although she doesn't know it. Which is for the best. I'm considering sacrificing her."
That statement was delivered with such casualness that Sebastian turned around to catch a glimpse of Jim, who was serenely circling something in his notebook.
"Sacrificing her as in offering her up to the gods on a slab?" Sebastian asked with his usual sarcasm. It was only getting worse, that habit of his. Honestly, Jim thought, trying to get Sebastian to be serious was becoming a real problem.
"Sacrificing her as in involving her in some crime and having her caught," Jim clarified with a tut.
"You'd be out of a job," Seb said, pulling off the unattractive yellow gloves he was wearing and slapping them down on the side. He'd done more than enough. If Verity wanted more stuff cleaned, then she'd just have to do it herself.
Jim glared at the ugly items and then glanced back up at Seb, his expression perfectly clear and honest.
"No, I'd be getting myself a promotion."
Before Sebastian could respond, the doorbell rang and both Jim and Seb looked in the general direction of the hall.
"Danni?" Sebastian asked Jim. "She hasn't been over for a while."
"She's on holiday in Paris. Anyway, it's getting tiresome to have to keep pretending to be nice when I'm with her."
A familiar voice carried down the hall, along with Verity's own, which sounded surprised and slightly displeased. It was heavily accented, and seemed to float like music. Jim's eyes narrowed and Sebastian's lips parted in a gormless look of surprise.
"Actually," Verity was saying. "He isn't supposed to be seeing his friends at the moment. He's in trouble and can't go out."
"That's exactly why we came here," said the unruffled Greek accent. "We won't cause any trouble, we just want to see him. He is our friend, after all."
Verity went silent and to Jim's surprise, he heard two pairs of footsteps approaching the kitchen and Verity's office door closing.
Ever since the government had started to get stricter, Verity had been more stressed than ever. She was always busy and gave up on confrontations sometimes in favour of work. It was good because they got away with more, but it was bad because Jim couldn't use her as a target for his spite as often as he would have liked.
Before Jim could even think up an appropriate warning insult, two figures appeared in the kitchen doorway.
A girl with a confident and friendly air stood slightly in front of a thin boy with nervous posture and apologetic eyes, despite having not done anything wrong yet.
"You're Sophie," Jim said loudly, looking incredulously at his enemy, at the way she'd just talked her way into his home. "And you're Newt. What are you doing here?"
He sounded accusatory, but Sophie didn't seem to notice. She shot a grin at Sebastian, which Jim supposed he must have returned, and Newt gave a tiny smile too. Jack Newton certainly had registered Jim's animosity, and he seemed uncomfortable about it.
"I didn't have you down as a Cinderella type, Seb," Sophie commented with a gleam in her eyes, which were green like glass and almond shaped. Jim knew he had longer eyelashes than her, though, so that was something. Her figure was hidden beneath a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans, although her nails were painted pink and she had hair that even Jim admitted privately was rather nice. It curled naturally. The most horrendous thing about her entire appearance was that she didn't seem aware of her potential to be attractive, just the same as Sebastian. And Jim knew at first hand that could be one of the most irresistible things of all.
Her nose was long and straight, and ever so slightly rounded at the end. Her nostrils flared sharply in harsh curves and she gave off a general air of no nonsense. As Jim watched her, she placed her hands on her hips.
"Yeah, well, I'm supposed to be redeeming myself," Sebastian responded in a tone that Jim wasn't used to him using. It wasn't unpleasant, or even particularly different to his usual voice, but Jim still noticed that he spoke in a different way to his friends than he did to him. "Can't believe Verity let you in, she doesn't usually."
"I can deal with people like her," Sophie said confidently with a gesture of her hand. Her hands were tanned but with delicate wrists. Jim glared.
"You know, it's very rude of you to just turn up here uninvited," Jim said, interrupting the conversation. "Sebastian and I were busy."
Sophie turned her gaze to Jim and got the measure of him in one sweep of her clever eyes.
"You're Jim," was all she said. It sounded like a challenge.
"Lovely to meet you," Newt added quickly. "Sebastian talks about you all the time. Are you doing maths?"
"I am," Jim told Sophie solemnly. "And yes, Jack, I'm doing maths. Not that either of you would be clever enough to understand it. So."
Sophie looked incredulously at Sebastian. Was this rude little boy really the famed Jim Moriarty? The boy Sebastian had chosen as his brother? The boy he could talk about for hours if given the chance? To Sophie, he seemed unpleasant and bossy and entirely unremarkable.
Newt laughed a bit uncomfortably, as though it had been a joke, and Sebastian dried his arms off, getting rid of the bubbles before patting the kitchen table.
"Sit down," he offered. "I'll grab you some biscuits. We're allowed them when we've got company."
Jim scoffed at that, at the way Sebastian was acting like they often entertained visitors. Nobody ever came to see them, and Jim thought that was for the best. He didn't need other people barging in and trying to steal Sebastian's attention, thank you very much.
As Sebastian passed him, he let his fingers brush over Jim's back. It wasn't a warning, but a plea. Jim didn't like that at all. It was blackmail. He had the right to hate whoever he wanted, especially when they'd invaded his home.
He could sense that Sebastian was a bit nervous. He kept scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed, afraid his friends would judge him for his home. It was a horrid place, Jim knew, loud and cluttered too much like a school to let you ever relax. Part of him wanted Sophie to scoff at the conditions, just so he could see Sebastian and Sophie argue.
Newt sat down opposite Jim and kept stealing furtive glances at him. He had a thin face and a soft look. Jim immediately labeled him as a sissy, but at least he showed some basic respect, unlike Sophie, who acted like he was just a normal person. When he wasn't. He was better.
Sophie took the seat beside Newt and relaxed back in her chair. She was far too self-assured for Jim's liking.
Sebastian returned to the table with the box of biscuits and sat down beside Jim, who shifted as close to him as possible, as if to show Sophie that Seb was his and always would be.
"Did you walk over?" Seb asked, as Sophie took her pick from the box.
"Yes, we were bored," she answered. "And missing you, of course. The entire year is talking about you."
Sebastian went red.
"Fuck," he muttered.
Jim placed a soothing hand on Sebastian's knee, which was a gesture Sophie missed. Newt, however, seemed more perceptive. He took his turn with the biscuits and averted his eyes.
"But don't worry. Nobody liked Chris much in the first place. Most people are on your side. Did you hear about what he did to Sandra last month?"
"No. What did he do?"
"He threatened to hit her if she didn't kiss him," Sophie explained with disdain written all over her face. "He's trouble, Sebastian. Not of the good kind. If it had been me I'd have kicked him until he learned some respect."
That statement and the delivery reminded Sebastian heavily of Ben.
Newt nodded his head. "He's awful."
Jim thought he could detect something wrong with Jack Newton. He kept looking uncertainly at Sebastian. There was no nastiness in his expression, but he had clearly come to some private conclusion inside his head, and Jim didn't like not knowing things.
"You're awfully posh," Jim commented, just to see if it would embarrass the boy. It didn't, although he looked apologetic once again.
"I had elocution lessons as a child," Newt explained good-naturedly. "I'm afraid my family are rather into that kind of thing."
"And you're Irish," Sophie countered, giving Jim another challenging look. "And I'm Greek. And Sebastian's a Londoner. People can't help the way they're brought up, can they?"
Jim narrowed his eyes. "Did I say there was anything wrong with Jack's accent?"
"Honestly, it doesn't matter," Newt cut in quickly.
Sebastian nodded at Newt, wordlessly thanking him. Both Newt and Sophie knew that Jim could be rude. Sebastian had tried to make them understand that he never meant it. Newt seemed to have taken that in, although Sophie kept looking at Jim with flashing eyes.
Jim nibbled on a chocolate biscuit and leaned against Sebastian's side, keeping his gaze on Sophie the entire time. Everything about his body language screamed: 'mine.'
"I got another war wound on the way over," Sophie told Seb, rolling up her jeans and lifting up her knee to display a nasty scratch which looked like it had been bleeding recently.
Oddly enough, Sebastian looked impressed. Why would he be impressed with a stupid scrape? If someone was stupid and reckless enough to get hurt then that was their own stupid fault, Jim thought.
With a growing grin, Sebastian rolled up his t-shirt sleeve to reveal a bruise on his arm.
"Got it in training with Ben," he told Sophie. "I told him not to go easy on me."
Sophie nodded her head approvingly, her curls bouncing. Newt apparently had no 'war wounds' because he merely watched on with appreciation and slight concern. He looked seconds away from recommending a plaster.
An idea forming in Jim's head, he smirked to himself. He wanted to test this Sophie.
"Would you like to see my war wounds?" he piped up, blinking slowly up at the girl and widening his eyes.
"Oh, yes," Newt said politely. "You three are obviously far braver than me. I don't think I've had a bad scrape since I went bike riding with Grandfather last year."
With a lick of his lips, Jim placed his right arm on the kitchen table and went for his sleeve.
Sebastian only realised a second too late what he was about to do.
Jim's pale inner arm was littered with scratches and scars. None particularly deep or wide, but enough to notice. The ones he'd managed to do before Sebastian wrestled the knife or the scissors away from him. He felt Sebastian take a breath beside him. Poor 'Bastian always got upset seeing the scars. Oh well, Jim mused, he'd let Sebastian kiss them better later.
"I did them myself," Jim commented. "Aren't they nice?"
The room went silent. Newt looked deeply saddened, his lips parted. Sophie raised an eyebrow, uncertain of what to make of this. Sebastian's arm went around Jim's waist to pull him slightly closer.
"Jim-" he muttered, in a mixture of warning and despair.
Pleased with his contribution to the conversation, and that he had the attention and power back, Jim withdrew his arm.
"Now, now, don't stare," he chided. "This is a home for troubled children. We're all mad here."
"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," Newt said timidly. "I've always liked that book."
Jim sighed and frowned at him.
"C'mon," Sebastian said, quickly rescuing the situation and breaking the spell. "I'll give you the grand tour. Ignore the kids everywhere."
Jim wasn't sure if he wanted to go along with the three of them. But he couldn't leave Sebastian with Sophie unattended, so he got up briskly and took hold of Sebastian's hand, to make sure he couldn't be pushed aside.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
"He's not really what I expected," Newt said tactfully to Sophie as the pair walked home in the afternoon sunshine.
"He's short," Sophie said. "And bossy. I don't think I've ever seen a boy that bossy in my life."
"He seems close to Sebastian, though, so he's probably a nice chap, underneath it all," Newt suggested generously.
Underneath it all, Sophie mused. Underneath the rudeness, the spite, the dark and threatening eyes, the way he had Sebastian wrapped around his little finger.
"You always see the good in everyone, that's your problem," Sophie informed Newt as they crossed the road. She led the way because Newt was a little afraid of the rough area. He kept peering around, clearly scared he was about to be mugged.
"Well, Sebastian loves him," Newt said eventually, as though that was enough for him.
Sophie hummed and flipped her hair behind her shoulders.
"He's nothing like Sebastian's brother. If my brothers acted like that I'd have to teach them a lesson," Sophie remarked confidently. "Didn't you notice the way he kept on demeaning him?"
Newt frowned. He thought he understood the situation a little more than Sophie did, although he wasn't going to bring it up.
"No, I suppose they're not much like brothers," he agreed after a moment. "At least, Jim doesn't treat Sebastian much like that."
"For Sebastian's birthday, we should get him a new best friend," Sophie declared.
Newt looked conflicted. "I think perhaps, if they're happy, then it's okay," he said carefully.
"He's a bully," Sophie pointed out. "A little bully, but still, sometimes they can be the worst. Did you notice that he wouldn't let Sebastian talk unless he liked the subject?"
"I think," Newt said again, his tone tactful. "That Sebastian quite likes being told what to do."
Sophie huffed.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Jim was left with a mystery, a problem. Because after spending a couple of hours with Sebastian's two best friends, something had clicked inside his head like the pieces of a puzzle.
Sophie wasn't interested in Sebastian. She didn't fancy him at all.
If Jim was right, and he usually was with these things, she was interested in someone else entirely.
Jim didn't know if that made things worse or better.
Oddly enough it made him resent her even more. Because who in their right mind would prefer that weak, pathetic sissy, Newt, to lovely, strong, gorgeous Sebastian?
Sebastian didn't give much away when with his friends, but Jim hadn't witnessed the romantic chemistry he'd dreaded between Sophie and Seb. Unless Sebastian was getting better at hiding his feelings, then Jim was missing something. Something right in front of his nose.
What was it?
Sophie, was, however, still his enemy. She was clever and she was quick, and she was far too confident and outspoken for her own good.
Jim would have to monitor her, because she had clearly expressed her dislike for him, and Jim knew that she had a certain amount of influence on Sebastian's way of thinking. Well, he'd just have to get rid of her before she got rid of him. A silent battle for Sebastian.
"What did you think, then?" Sebastian asked after they'd left, looking like he'd been deflated after all that stress, the way he'd played the perfect host and constantly steered the conversation away from Jim's deliberately controversial and uncomfortable topics.
"I think that Sophie is intelligent and that Newt is scared of offending people," Jim remarked carefully. "And that they'll probably be kissing soon."
"You what?"
Jim sighed. "Sophie likes Newt. Newt likes Sophie. It's obvious, Sebastian."
"Not obvious to me," Sebastian grunted.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "You're tired, Seb. You really don't like socialising, do you?"
Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. "I don't mind it. Just prefer to be doing things rather than sitting talking."
"Then it's a good job I like sitting and talking and doing nothing at all strenuous, isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"Yes, because I can do all of the nasty talking for you, and you can do all the actiony things for me."
Sebastian frowned. He didn't like the sound of Jim doing the talking for him.
"Why'd you show them your arm?" he asked eventually.
Jim smirked, his eyes adoring and sparkling.
"Are you saying I should be ashamed of them, darling?"
Sebastian shook his head, back-peddling quickly.
"No, of course not."
Jim nodded his head. "Good boy. You learn very quickly indeed. And I think you made a lovely host this afternoon."
"Did I?" Seb asked uncertainly.
"Very. Although you need work. I can help you with that, don't you fret."
Sebastian allowed himself a grin.
"You gonna make me a social butterfly?'
"Who wants to be a social butterfly? You're going to be a tame wasp."
"Hate wasps," Sebastian mumbled, thinking of a memory he assumed was his and real and not imagined, of a trip to the park with his mother when he was a young child. He'd been stung on his toe and he'd cried and cried. That was okay, though, because his Father hadn't been there to see it.
Jim tutted. "You shouldn't hate wasps. I thought you were supposed to be the compassionate one?"
"Never said I was compassionate."
"You're a writer, Sebastian. You write poetry, for heaven's sake. You are the compassionate one. You care about people."
Sebastian tensed.
"You read my poetry?"
"It's quite good," Jim said with a nod. "Although sometimes you can get horribly sentimental."
Sebastian didn't get angry with Jim for reading his writing. His stuff was pretty abstract, because for some reason he couldn't admit to his feelings, even privately. Jim may have been a genius, but creatively he wasn't up to much. Sebastian hadn't even been able to explain the symbolism in a simple Shakespeare sonnet he'd had to analyse for homework. Jim had called it pointless and useless, but Sebastian enjoyed the rhythm and the archaic phrasing. It reminded him of the fantasy realms he had escaped to inside his own head as a child. Of knights and ladies and dragons and magicians.
"I reckon you can be compassionate too," Sebastian pointed out after a moment.
Jim hummed.
"I can be compassionate when I want to be. But only when I want."
He's compassionate with me, Sebastian thought proudly.
"We should do something for my birthday," Sebastian suggested.
"Hm?"
"You, me, Newt, Sophie and Ben."
Jim scowled. "No, darling, I don't think so."
"Just a thought," Sebastian mumbled, deflated by that reaction. "You'd like Ben. At least I think you would."
"If you think I want to voluntarily come face to face with Sophie's brother, then you've got another thing coming. Don't push your luck, Sebastian."
Sebastian slumped but nodded. "Fifteen soon."
"Almost a big boy," Jim teased, slightly maliciously.
"Haven't done much, though, have I?"
"Of course you have. How many people do you think have managed to be sent out of a country in disgrace? And that's not to mention the arson."
There was something more bothering Sebastian, but Jim knew he wasn't the type to open up. When he was ready, he'd try to ask Jim his advice or opinion in a roundabout way. He'd think he was being subtle, and Jim would let him believe it, although really the twelve year old would manipulate him right back, carefully guiding him without wounding his pride.
"You'll be thirteen soon, too," Sebastian said.
"A teenager. Yes. Which means you'll have to finally come to terms with me not being a child."
"Still look like a kid, though," Sebastian mumbled. Jim's furious expression shut him up in an instant.
"And you still look like an idiot, but I put up with you. Now, come and fuss over my scars. I know you want to."
