The next week or so was fraught for Sebastian. Jim was touchy, more so than usual, and it put him on edge. He was also sure that his boss could smell his guilt on him, like there was a cloud of it hovering around him that Jim could hardly help but notice. He seemed to have lost the ability to be normal – like when someone tells you to 'act natural' and you forget what a human being does with their hands when they're not in use. The only time he felt properly safe was when he was driving, focus squarely ahead of him and Jim normally ignoring him in the back. It would normally give him time to think, but he was very well-trained at keeping his mind blank. At least when he was driving, Jim couldn't look at his face. He constantly felt observed now, even though he was sure that was his own paranoia. He'd taken to sleeping at his own flat, shithole that it was, to try and give himself some time away.
But it wouldn't be for much longer. She was ready, and he was relieved. It had been too big an undertaking to agree to, he realised that now. He hadn't expected her to be so…green – all that time running around with the police definitely hadn't rubbed off at all. Anyway, it didn't matter any more. She wasn't his problem for much longer and he was having to fight his urge to be disappointed about that. Getting attached wasn't sensible in his line of work, especially getting attached to your boss's…whatever she was.
He hadn't understood, to start with, what Jim saw in her. Why she had this weird hold over the man who never let anyone too close, who was normally so in control. He'd been professionally detached at best, cold and rude at worst, whenever he was tasked with driving her anywhere. It was in his nature to be mistrustful of women, especially ones who suddenly seemed inseparable from powerful men. The more he'd got to know her, the more he had to admit – she was…something. Not what he expected, not what he had her pegged as. And that was a dangerous thought, one he wasn't even allowing himself to grapple with because what was the point? There could only be one outcome.
He shook his head and focussed his eyes on the road, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel in time with the loud rock music blaring from the radio – music wasn't something that Jim would stand for in his car, so Sebastian could only indulge when he was driving by himself. Jim had had a day of appointments which had left Sebastian in role of taxi driver rather than bodyguard. He was driving around the block while his boss finished up a check in with Irene Adler, and then he would just be running him around all evening as well. Somehow, Molly had convinced Jim to celebrate some sort of month-iversary and Sebastian knew better than to question Jim on this out-of-character move. What went on in their relationship, if that was the right word, was none of his business.
Jim exited the bar he had met Adler in, infamous in certain circles for its dodgy owner and its discreet staff, and right on cue, the sleek black car pulled up. He was glad. He wasn't in the mood for messing around today. Meetings with The Woman were always taxing, and now he had to go and play nice with Molly. He wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to convince him into tonight, although he also wasn't sure how it would differ from what they usually did when they went out.
"It's what people do, Jim, on their anniversaries," she'd insisted. "Go somewhere nice, do something fun together. To celebrate."
Sometimes, he let himself forget how normal she was, at heart. No matter how many times he reminded her that an anniversary was meant to be for a year and not a few months, that they were hardly the kinds of people who did what everyone else did, that surely it would be exactly the same as if he took her for dinner on that evening without acknowledging the supposedly important date – she'd pouted and sulked and batted her eyelashes and persisted. And finally he'd agreed to get her to shut up on the condition that she didn't expect a present or a card, and she didn't get him anything.
And now he actually had to go through with it, after a long difficult day. At least the prospect of having sex was something he could get on board with – the tension release might do him some good. He climbed into the car without a word to Moran. Ordinarily the sniper would have made a sly comment or asked a teasing question about Adler – far from his favourite person and a constant sense of frustration to them both – but Sebastian had been in an odd mood recently. Jim didn't have the energy to address it. He wouldn't truly care until it started affecting his work, and it wasn't so he didn't let it take up any space in his brain. He needed a shower and to change his suit, and maybe a stiff drink before they headed out again to collect Molly. He could have done without this tonight, but there it was. The sacrifices he made for that bloody woman.
On the dot of eight o'clock, Jim climbed out of the car and headed into Molly's building. The shower and the whiskey had helped clear his head, and he was almost looking forward to the evening ahead. It had been a while since they had seen each other in public – he'd been so preoccupied with other matters and she had, he'd noticed, learned not to ask for more of his time than he was able to give. He appreciated that, and rewarded it with occasional unprompted affection. Not too much, not so she'd ever notice…but just enough to keep her from getting truly disheartened. It was a carefully balanced game and one he finally felt like he had control over.
He raised his fist to rap on Molly's front door, but found it already unlocked. As his knuckles connected with the wood, it swung open and he froze.
He regularly walked into rooms to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun, but this wasn't something he had ever expected to happen in this room.