This is something that has been floating around in my head after seeing so much Moriarty/Sebastian pieces on tumblr. With any luck it's at least somewhat good.

Word Count: 508

Sebastian Moran was not submissive. That wasn't what this was about. He just needed the drive, a cause to channel all his energy into. If asked he would say that it was a remnant from his military days, but the truth was that it had been there long before. It was why he had joined in the first place and after he was discharged (for foolish reasons) he had lost it.

It was what had led him to becoming a gun for hire. Well that and the money. He let others chose the mission for him, a simple assassination or just some extra insurance, and threw himself into them. He made a name for himself through the efficiency with which he performed each job. He never failed to hit the target, no matter how difficultly placed it might be. Once the word was out people were beating down his door to hire him.

And that was how he met Jim Moriarty.

The man had just been there one morning when Sebastian stumbled out of his bedroom, draped across the couch like he belonged there. He had gone with his first instinct, of course, reaching for the closest gun, only to find it gone.

"Ah, ah, ah." Sebastian had looked up, shock hitting him hard as he saw the man twirling the gun in question around his finger. "You really should learn to hide these better. I mean, a false bottom in a drawer? Obvious!" The last word was uttered in some strange sort of sing-song.

Sebastian had stared at the gun for a few moments before letting his eyes flick over to the man's face. "That is loaded, you know," he stated, dryly. "So you had best stop that before you shoot yourself in the head."

The gun had stilled instantly then a slow grin had spread across the man's face. "Ooh, yes," he said. "I knew I would like you." He had tossed the gun onto the couch with all the casual air of someone throwing a pillow, not something that could kill them. "Now shall we begin your interview."

"Interview for what?" Sebastian asked.

"For your new job!" the man said. There had been a sort of maniac delight in his voice. "I need a right hand man. Someone with at least some intelligence, someone competent. Someone I can depend on to have my back at all times." He had looked up at Sebastian with a look that was far too knowing for someone who had just met him. "And you need someone to follow like the good little dog you are."

Sebastian should have bristled at that comment, he really should have. The words had just rolled off him, though, barely even touching him. He sat down in the armchair instead, never taking his eyes off the man across from him. "First your name," he said.

"Oh, of course," the man said. "Common courtesy and all that. I am Jim Moriarty, but you can call me boss."

It was the start of the perfect partnership.