Molly could tell Sebastian Moran was going to be someone important in Jim's life from the way he described him; with relish, with pride, with admiration. That last emotion was new one in Jim's arsenal- admiration implied respect, something Molly hadn't ever been sure Jim was capable of. When she herself saw Moran, she understood a little better Jim's fascination.

He was beautiful. He was perfectly proportioned, healthy and graceful. Molly thought about how beautifully his muscles could be peeled away, how his secret parts and organs and liquids could be aired and admired. She thought about how he would be a model dissection to show a class back at University to say 'here's the only proof we've ever found for creation theory.' He wasn't pretty though, oh no. He had a harsh face. A face made up of cheek-bones and muscles and textures; shadows and stubble and tiny scars. It was an essential face, bare and brutal.

Physically he was fit, with delicate muscles in abundance that moved without a thought as he did. Molly's first impression had led her to say that he moved like an athlete or a dancer. Jim described his balanced gait as that of a hunting tiger. Molly rather liked that description; he had the bodiless fluidity of someone who had forgotten they owned awkward bones, limbs and angles. Molly was a little jealous too; as he was everything physically she was not. Later, Molly was also so angry when she found at that he smoked; he might ruin his perfection.

He had light hair, sandy, bleaching to a more childish blond in the sun. His eyes reminded her of her own and Jim's, the only thing she mirrored saw in all of them: they were deep and empty. Sebastian's bright blue however, though hers and Jim's were shades of brown. He had large hands, and a gravelly voice, though a quiet one. He was well very spoken and taciturn. Private school, she noted mentally.

She felt small and silly near him, in her dark clothes and with her stark ponytail she'd taken to wearing as her hair grew longer. She didn't speak to him when they were introduced, just nodded 'hello' as Jim bounced around the room, fawning on Sebastian, his eyes glittering as he laughed and planned things, mad things. By now Molly was also privy to as many of his plans as anybody was, though as Jim was a compulsive liar and an oddly private person who shared little, she knew only of them in abstract. Not enough to give anything away, even under torture. She thought Jim would think of it in those terms too.

Sebastian's eyes met hers as though to ask, 'is he always like this?'

Molly decided not to respond, and instead her let her eyes flick back to Jim. It was also true that she felt a certain Shadenfreude in the fact this quiet killer Sebastian would eventually meet the most terrifying thing he would ever encounter: Jim insane anger. He had no idea what he was in for. Molly wondered if this was jealously she was experiencing. Until now the only thing she'd fought Jim for was his own work, at that was as precious to him as anything physical, much more so. However Molly couldn't help but notice the greed in Jim's eyes when they roved over Sebastian.

She left them alone in Jim's sitting room under the pretence of getting a drink, and paused in the corridor by Jim's long mirror. A small woman who was slight, mousey, and with a pointy face and deep set eyes, not ugly, not pretty looked back. Small and insubstantial, the antithesis of Sebastian's cool vitality, his physicality. A phrase came back to Molly in bits from a book she'd been made to read at school, "It was a body capable of enormous leverage - a cruel body." F Scott Fitzgerald. The name followed the quote grudgingly as it had been taught to.

Molly stared at herself unflinchingly for a few seconds, and then walked into Jim's kitchen. She could hear the murmur of Jim's voice across the corridor but she didn't listen. The kitchen was as uncompromisingly tidy as ever, and she found a bottle of wine easily which she opened, and poured herself a glass, pulling up a chair and sitting alone at the table. Molly thought about how she'd never had to lie to Jim before, or pretend anything. He used to be like her twin before this recent evolution into something altogether more great, and they'd need never pretend at anything, be that an emotion or an impulse. Of course he lied to her always, but that was not what she meant.

Molly took a long drink of her wine, swallowing it wincingly, and setting the glass on the table a little too firmly. One silly Sebastian meant nothing to her; he would be like the others, in and out in a flash. Only Molly stayed, Molly and Jim. Of course what also crossed her mind was that Jim had never introduced her to any of his other 'colleagues'- ah well. Molly couldn't be bothered with all the calculations, emotions, thoughts. She was a brutally practical person. This was simply a new stage in Jim's life. A growing criminal… 'business' needed a reliable hit man. It just so happened he was beautiful.

Molly started when Jim's hand touched her shoulder and the wine in her glass tipped a little. He leant past her, his body leaning into hers as he took the glass from her hand and set it on the table. "Poor Mols- so deep in thought. Did I scare ya'?"

She didn't reply, so he leant down and hugged her round the shoulders, pushing his face into her ear. He smelt of a new expensive cologne and of himself, a faint unidentifiable smell that she'd never been able to place. He whispered low, "He's gorgeous isn't he? Can't wait to see him kill something." He kissed the back of her jawbone with soft lips, then stood up and moved away. Molly wondered if the flirting Jim was back- what a stupid point for him to resurface if so.

Molly sighed through her nose.

Jim -of course- noticed.

Opening a cupboard, he spun round, "Whaaaaat?" He moaned, tipping his head over. "Don't you like him? I know you do, I saw you looking, he's so pretty." He blinked at her pathetically.

Molly smiled faintly, "Why did you introduce him to me? I've never met anyone else."

Jim looked sideways, still hanging off the open cupboard, considering. He twisted his mouth, "He seems more like us."

"Like us?"

"Like," Jim sighed, picking his words, "except for the obvious eye-candy, he can kill stuff and not think about it." Jim frowned, almost mockingly, but Molly was familiar with his overly expressive features. He plodded through his next sentence as though troubled by it, "He can kill stuff and not find it fun necessarily, but find it interesting? He can kill stuff just for the sake of it." Jim nodded, "Yes, that's it, yes. He can kill stuff for the hell of it. Just because. Like," he snapped his fingers, "that."

Molly nodded. "He's good at it too."

"That goes without saying. Have you seen that body? Excellent with a gun too, excellent. I wouldn't trust him at all… except that I'm going to." Jim giggled with glee and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard, dumping it on the counter. He followed with glasses, three, even though Molly protested she didn't want anything.

Sebastian appeared at the door just after Jim finished pouring the last tumbler. He spun across the kitchen into Sebastian, pressing the glass into his hands, then flung himself down on a chair next to Molly pushing her tumbler in front of her and pushing her wine glass away. "Sit!" Jim motioned with his head to the other chair the other side of Molly, opposite Jim.

Sebastian sat, setting down his cup after taking a long drink, leaving just a thin line of brown liquid at the bottom. Molly sipped hers. She hated whiskey. Stupid, strong and pointless drink. You could only drink an inch or two of it, and it tasted vile. Jim looked from one of them to the other as though someone should say something, something should happen.

Sebastian again glanced in her direction, and she accidentally met his hard blue eyes. She looked away again.

Jim tipped his chair back and rolled his head back and round, "Gods you people are dull."

"Well sorry your tea party didn't go as you planned." Molly hated her light airy voice sometimes. Jim and Sebastian had lovely low speech.

Sebastian seemed surprised at Molly's sarcasm. Jim noticed it too, he smirked. "Don't get ideas, she's the only person who can be rude to me."

"Ah."

Molly wished Sebastian gone.

Just then Jim's phone went off. It was ABBA, 'Dancing Queen' and Molly saw a smirk almost tug at Sebastian's lips. Jim scowled. "Excuse me ladies." He pushed his chair back and stood up, pressing the phone to his ear. "Hello?" He made a face at them both then sauntered out into the hallway, pulling the kitchen door shut behind him.

Molly and Sebastian were left alone.

Sebastian decided to attempt conversation first. Bravely, thought Molly.

"Do you work for him too?" His eyes were so blue.

"No."

Molly wanted to laugh at Sebastian's surprise, yet again that afternoon, "I'm an old… acquaintance."

"Oh I didn't think. he'd- are you his-"

"No. Don't worry."

Sebastian's eyes were amused, "I-"

"Don't bother."

Molly pushed her chair back and stood up, raised her tumbler as if to drain it, and then remembered it was whisky. "Do you want it?"

Sebastian nodded and Molly slid it across the table to him.

There was an amicable silence as Sebastian drained it, and Molly could make out faint strains of Jim's conversation through the door as she paused, standing by the table. Maybe Sebastian wasn't so bad.

"Do you know what he's hired me for?"

Molly nodded, "Yes."

Sebastian watched her face, curious to see her response. All he received was a lack of emotion, even interest. He nodded slightly, eyes respectful.

Molly moved aside and pushed her chair back in. After a seconds hesitation she held out a hand, "I'm going, nice to meet you."

Sebastian cautiously shook it, "Likewise."

Molly left him alone in the kitchen, and on her way out passed the open door to Jim's living room, Jim perched on the edge of the sofa still on the phone. He looked up and bless her a kiss briefly, then his concentration flicked back to his conversation, "No, don't do that, that's idiotic. Listen to me you dumb-ass and-"

Molly didn't bother to listen to any more, and let herself out.

She'd had enough of people, live ones, for one day.