Richard carefully packed everything into Seb's car. He didn't have much to pack really; he had his box, and three bags of things. He honestly probably didn't even need Sebastian to come with him, but Richard honestly didn't want to go by himself yet. Mrs. Hudson was letting him move in, but that didn't mean that she was going to like him. She was kind enough and sympathetic enough to give him a place to stay for a little while.
"I love this car, Seb," Richard said, lounging back in the seat of the cherry red car he'd stolen to drive to the Diogenes' Club.
"You're damn lucky that I didn't skin you for that stunt you pulled. Don't think I don't know about you driving like a lunatic," Sebastian growls, turning the car on and pulling out of the garage and heading out onto the road.
"Come on, you know I used to do stunt driving. What I did is nothing compared to the jobs I used to have," Richard said, cracking one eyes and smirking at Sebastian.
"You really are the hands on twin," Sebastian said.
"I really pissed Jim off with that one," Richard admitted. "But I was fresh out of prison and I honestly couldn't give a shit about what he wanted and I'd really been… well, rather destructive… is this actually yours?"
"Jim bought it for me," Sebastian said with a shrug. "For the record, the car I had was just fine. It wasn't even like that clunker you had." Richard sighed heavily. He missed his car. "Then, I wake up one day and I see this downstairs. I think it was the only time Jim remembered by birthday," Sebastian mused.
"He doesn't forget things like that," Richard said, pulling his leg up to his chest. "He'd just selective about when he finds it important… though honestly I imagine he bought it for you the same way he'd buy a collar for a dog."
"An expensive diamond studded designer leather collar," Sebastian said. A car like the one Sebastian now drove was a status symbol. It wasn't a symbol of Sebastian's wealth either. Sebastian never would have been able to afford it. It was one of the kinds where only about 40 people in the world owned one, and it cost about a million dollars for reasons passing understanding. Sebastian driving it was merely a sign of Moriarty's ownership.
"That was Jim," Richard said with a heavy sigh. They pair of them lapsed into silence. Richard looked out the window, though in reality he was looking at Sebastian in the reflection. He wasn't fooled. Sebastian had been playing more recently, but Richard knew that Sebastian wasn't better. He was either trying to hide his mourning from Richard, or he was finding ways to distract himself from his mourning.
"I know you're watching me," Sebastian said.
"There's no way you know all Jim's tricks," Richard said, but he chuckled a bit. "Seb, if I ask if you're okay are you going to lie to me, tell me no, and get angry at me for asking."
"Probably not in that particular order, no. I'll definitely get angry first."
"Seb," Richard said, his voice much more insistent than normal.
"I'm not okay Richard," Sebastian said. It was like he was admitting to anything. He was merely explaining his status. "Unlike you, I don't have a new girlfriend, and I don't have a new flat to go to that had nothing of Jim in it. I don't even really have a job since I don't have to more. It's just dawning on me that my stolen season has ended and if I want to actually live then I have to become normal and boring."
"There's no way you'll never be normal or boring," Richard said.
"According to Jim, I always bordered on being too boring to live."
"Jim always lied," Richard said. "If you were that dull then he'd never have you near him. Besides that, everyone bored Jim. He was so bored that he put a bullet through his skull rather than keep dealing with living."
Sebastian made a smacking noise with his lips. Richard eyed him in the reflection of the window again. It was such a great reflection that Richard imagined that Jim had that window especially designed so he could watch Sebastian from it. Sebastian obviously knew Richard was watching, he just didn't know how much.
Richard made notes of how Sebastian changed every time he saw him. He'd been doing this since the first time Richard met him. Richard did it with everyone to a greater or lesser extent. He didn't forget people. He catalogued them, integrating what he learned from them into himself, into his acts. He would note exactly how people changed between each meeting, and would index what had happened in their lives. His mind was something like a statistical analysis database and a huge library of rolodex cards. His mind would flash up useful bit of information of each person, as well as the newest relevant data, just the essential bullet points, never too much. Yet when he was studying people his mind complied how any person he'd ever met acted and picked out the best possible reactions for certain scenes based on the collective data he had from people having been in similar situations and with similar personality types, multiplied by the statistical likelihood of said reaction, cross-referenced with classic roles and acts and actors.
Sebastian was probably Richard's favorite subject to study. Sebastian integrated Jim into himself. Two people would begin to pick up the habits of each other given time if they shared close quarters. Jim didn't integrate anything that he didn't very purposefully mean to. People also didn't generally act like Jim. Richard had never figured out if it was because Jim changed his outward personality so often with most people that no one could pick up on enough of Jim to mimic him unconsciously; or if people's unconscious simply rejected Jim.
But Sebastian did mimic Jim. He didn't just mimic Jim, but took very specific Jim traits and integrated them so perfectly that they became perfectly Sebastian traits… traits that seemed to fit Sebastian so well that no one would never guess where they really came from… except for Richard.
The trait Richard observed now on Sebastian was Jim's very specific oral fixation. Jim was like a child never completely grown up. Jim always stuck things in his mouth, tasting things as much as he smelled or touched. Jim liked stinking things in his mouth so much that on his last day on earth her stuck a gun in his mouth a pulled the trigger just to have a chance to taste hot metal and gun powder.
Sebastian had never been a man who'd been the type to stick things into his mouth that he didn't know what they were and knew damn well that those things were safe. He still wasn't. At the same time, the Sebastian that Richard had met the first time would have never stuck a cigarette between his lips and inhaled smoke into his lungs. The Sebastian Richard met the first wasn't a man who needed to have things between his lips.
Driving along in the ridiculously expensive collar Jim had bought him, Colonel Sebastian Moran had a plastic toothpick between his teeth, the kind that Richard had seen a plenty in a little plastic cup in Jim's kitchen. They belonged in finger food and Jim had such an array that Richard was sure that Jim stole them. Richard had snatched one with a purple mermaid on it that he found amusing. Sebastian had a plain, unadorned, but pink one stuck between his teeth.
The pink toothpick spun on Sebastian's lips, and Richard had to wonder if that were a conscious move, a small bit of seduction, suggestion of what he could to; or if Sebastian was merely bored and twirled the toothpick on his tongue the way some people twirled a pencil in their fingers. Either way, it was a completely Sebastian move, showing through motion that you'd never have his full attention, unless it was very important. It was also a very Jim thing to do.
"I'll bring the deed over sometime this week," Richard said, simply to break the silence. They were getting closer to Baker Street and Richard felt nervous as well. He didn't feel like wondering about Sebastian when he was starting to feel the knots in his stomach.
"It's fine. I don't think the landlord will kick me out."
"But still… are you sure you want to stay there?" Richard asked.
"It's home, Richard," Sebastian said. That was the end of the discussion. For whatever Sebastian felt about Jim, for however the man had or had not changed Sebastian's life, Sebastian had lived in that flat and made his home there. He didn't want to leave, and not even the ghost of Jim Moriarty cloud chase him out.
"Thanks for helping me move," Richard said as they pulled up to a parking space. Richard sighed wistfully. In a perfect world, Baker Street would have a garage where he could put his old clunker, but in reality parking would always be a pain around Baker Street. "You don't have to stay long," he added.
"Just tell me that you desperately want me to stick around to act as a buffer between you and an old lady," Sebastian said with a smirk, hoping out and grabbing all over Richard's bags in one go, just to show off. Richard grabbed his shoe box.
"She knows you know Jim," Richard said.
"Knew," Sebastian corrected. The word stuck hard between them. Sebastian cleared his throat. "When are you getting the rest of your crap out of storage?"
"Not yet, I need to take stock of what I do and do not need. I don't think this will be permanent."
"Meaning you don't want to get too badly attached even though this place makes your heart go pitter pat," Sebastian translated.
"The hell, Seb! When did you learn to read me so well?" Richard snarled, annoyed that Sebastian could see everything.
"You're like a less complicated Jim," Sebastian said simply, walking up the stairs and ringing the doorbell. Richard felt like someone had stuck a knife in his chest.
"You made it," Mrs. Hudson said when she opened the door. Richard moved up the stairs and around Sebastian.
"This is Sebastian Moran," Richard said. "He's just dropping off a few things."
"So few," Mrs. Hudson said, leading the pair of them up to 221b.
"I had to travel light," Richard said simply. He set his shoe box down with the love and care of a man carrying his own child. Sebastian simply dropped the bags on the floor. "Seb, isn't it beautiful?"
"Yeah, gorgeous," Sebastian said, putting on a fake lisp. He smirked when Richard turned and gave him the evil eye. "So, where do I drop off the bags?"
"My bedroom is upstairs," Richard said.
"Why up there?" Sebastian asked, but scooped up the clothes bags and took them upstairs. The third bag were the knick-knacks: toiletries and towels and things in that general area that didn't specifically need to go into the bedroom.
"Why don't I put on a pot of tea?" Mrs. Hudson suggested.
"Thank you, that would be lovely," Richard said.
"But just this once dear. I'm not your house keeper."
"Of course Mrs. Hudson, I'll try to keep things clean," Richard said with a nervous smile. It only got more nervous when she paused to look at him for a moment before moving into the kitchen. A moment later her vaguely heard the normal sounds of making tea. He let out a tense sigh and took his other bag down the hall to the bathroom. He carefully unpacked before moving around the rest of the flat.
He was sure that most of the furniture belonged to Sherlock Holmes. He didn't want to move things around so much that Mrs. Hudson would feel like he'd violated the space, yet he also needed to feel like he could live there. The first thing he did was something very simple: he lay the knit blanket his cousin had made for him over the squishy grey chair. That one would have been Sherlock's. It was obvious by the way it looked and where it sat, able to see the front door and everything in the flat. Its placement showed the partiality to paranoia that Richard imaged Sherlock Holmes probably had, just like Jim. The make was also a perfect example of the Holmes image too, at least the one Sherlock portrayed. Richard liked the chair instantly because he wasn't at all like Mycroft Holmes.
The next thing he did was take out the few books he had before he began rearranging Sherlock's shelf. Sherlock's shelf was like Jim's, and also a bit like Richards: arranged in a way that looked random but also had a specific meaning to the arranger. It was another sign of that paranoia. In Richard's case his paranoia came from knowing Jim. Richard had been purposefully cryptic for a long time now.
"Making yourself at home?" Mrs. Hudson asked. Richard didn't jump. He never wasn't aware of the sounds she or Sebastian made as they moved around.
"Just a bit of rearranging," Richard said. "I'm not going to throw anything out," he added. To Sherlock's shelf he'd added three books: the large copy of the first folio of Shakespeare's work, written in the original old modern English. Richard's paperback copy of the plays of Tennessee Williams. The book-swap copy of short Ray Bradbury stories that Kitty had bought Richard. All of Richard's other books were in storage.
"Do you not have more than this?" Mrs. Hudson asked, setting the tray with tea down on one of the side tables.
"Yes, but it's mostly in storage," Richard said. "It's a bit of a pain to deal with. I've been homeless before, this is nothing," he added.
"Oh dear," Mrs. Hudson said. "Are you alright?"
"It was a long time ago," Richard said. "I mean, after I got out of prison, I got framed for something petty Jim did… and right before I started to do stunt work… it's been a long time," he added. "I'm sorry, I know I sound insane. Thank you for the tea," he said. He moved around the older woman to pour himself and Sebastian a cup.
"Okay, everything's unpacked," Sebastian said as he came down. "Not that there was much to unpack Did you finish down here?"
"Keep your shirt on," Richard said, sipping his tea before setting it down. He opened his last bag up the rest of the way, pulling out the remaining items: a way overpriced wooden chess set that Richard had gotten in Russia that one time Jim had sent him. A three inch high wooden cross that Richard stood up on the mantel and a frilly throw pillow that Richard had gotten from an ex girlfriend. He tossed the throw onto the sofa. "There, done," he said, starting to zip the bag closed.
"I don't see how you needed me for this," Sebastian said, taking his own tea cup. "Thank you," he said to Mrs. Hudson. Sebastian held his cup at the rip, from the top when he sipped tea as he did now: standing. Richard always gripped the handle, his pinky moving slightly off from the alignment of his fingers; a left over from the summer he'd held his pinky out while drinking tea as practice for a part he never got.
"It would have been difficult for me to carry all this stuff on the tube," Richard pointed out. All of his bags were shoulder bags. He didn't have the fancy kind with wheels, never had. "Thank you for helping, by the way, I owe you one."
"Whatever," Sebastian said. "Mm," he said, sipping his tea again. "This is very good."
"Thank you," Mrs. Hudson said, turning her eyes to Sebastian with a certain amount of kindly womanly interest. "You were Richard's Brother's Friend?" she asked. There was a certain emphasis on the word 'friend' that made Richard what to groan.
Sebastian paused to actually pull his toothpick out of his mouth. "I'm not gay, ma'am," he said very evenly. He didn't sound offended at all. He was merely informing her where she'd been misinformed. "Jim was just a friend."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Mrs. Hudson said.
"No, it's fine. I think Richard kind of hoped I would mellow Jim out if I was sleeping with him," Sebastian said. "Sorry," he added, seeing the slightly disapproving look he won for his bluntness.
"No offense taken," Mrs. Hudson said. "Now, I'm going to leave you two be. I'm afraid I don't want to be party to the redecorating," she said as she walked down the stairs.
"Do you actually plan to redecorate?" Sebastian asked. He sat down in the chair that had obviously belonged to Dr. Watson.
"Not really," Richard said, going back to rearranging the books. "Hey, Seb, would you mind getting me a poster of some kind for this room, just one. I want something tasteful, I don't need a lot," he added.
"Would you like me to sweep the floor too and fluff the pillows you're her majesty?"
"Seb, shut up," Richard said, rolling his eyes.
"You let her think I was screwing your brother because you didn't want to tell her the truth. You picked the most convenient lie for you because it's easier to explain that I keep hanging around because I was in love with your brother, whether that's true or not," Sebastian said.
Richard sighed heavily. "Sebastian, I'm sorry." He sounded like he really meant it.
"It's fine," Sebastian said. "I forgive you. Now finish you tea before it gets cold. You can mess with the books later."
Richard's mouth tugged up just slightly into a smile. He set the book back on the shelf where he'd plucked it from before picking up his tea cup. He gripped the outer rim of the cup from the top, trying to see if it was any better the way Sebastian held it.