Another night of little sleep had gone by for Jim. Between testing his new project and evaluating all possible scenarios in which he would be able to use it, hours had slipped by and it was already late when he had gone to bed. He woke up to the sound of a clockwork motor, the cogs and pulleys of it jolting him awake to find Sebastian by his bed holding a tray full of food in his hands.
"Good morning Professor. We stood up so late yesterday I figured you would wake up hungry"
Jim narrowed his eyes to the food being offered to him just before smiling and propping himself on his elbows, ready to accept some of it. "I knew that cooking program would come in handy". He was taking half of a French toast and putting it in his mouth unceremoniously when he decided to test the boundaries of his project. "I'm tired Sebastian, feed me".
The automaton placed the tray on the bedside table and started plucking out grapes and then feeding them to Jim, who couldn't do more than receiving them as he tried to control his laughter. He knew it was going to work, but he never thought it'd be so perfect. He had to believe in himself even more.
Slow footsteps sounded outside his door. "Morning, Professor Moriarty! Time to get up!" Sybil entered the room with a cup of tea and some biscuits but stopped on her tracks when she saw Sebastian by Jim's side.
"It's ok Sybil, someone else has already taken care of it", he responded from the bed, opening his mouth to accept another grape in the most obscene way he was capable of.
The girl blushed furiously. "I'm sorry Professor, I didn't know…"
Jim bursted out in laughter. "It's fine, it's just my new project. Though I gotta say, Sybil, that your job might just be compromised", another grape. "Now be a dear and phone Sherlock, will you? Tell him to come on Friday. He's going to die when he meets the perfection I've created", finished Jim, caressing Sebastian's chin.
Sybil exited the room as quickly as she could. She knew the Professor could be eccentric, very unpredictable, even moody, but she could never quite believe all the stories going around that he was mad. As much as he got angry at her sometimes or didn't speak for days, she had never been entirely afraid of him…until now. Sybil walked down the stairs in silence, trying to concentrate in the task at hand to prevent her mind from wandering through scary scenarios.
There was one thing having a prototype at home and making it work in a controlled environment, but having it prove its worth in the outside world was a completely different matter. James knew this well so he planned an excursion to town in order to test his latest creation. As the automaton helped him dress up, his faith in the success of this project kept growing.
Outside, the day was unusually clear. The dark clouds that customarily covered New London were nowhere to be seen and even the people were a bit more cheerful than usual. Jim walked through the crowd, being followed closely by Sebastian, both entering shops and stopping to sightsee until Jim felt comfortable enough with Sebastian's functioning. He was decided to take him on the next business trip when a man ran into him, making Jim fall.
"Oi! Careful where you step, pygmy!" the angry man shouted at Jim, right before a strong hand clasped around his throat in an iron grip. The man turned red under the force of his attacker.
"You do not speak like that to the Professor"
"It's alright, Seb, I'm ok", said Jim, fascinated with the reaction. Sebastian looked back at him, waiting for his order and after Jim's nod, he let the man go, who wheezed and pulled at his shirt collar before running away from them.
"Did I do well, Professor?" asked Sebastian in a polite manner but with no trace of insecurity in his voice like a person would have when in doubt.
"You did marvelously well, Sebastian. Come on; let's pick up our zeppelin tickets. There's a cargo arrival I need to supervise".
The docks had never been a place where Jim liked to be. They reminded him of his former home and that made them all the more disgusting, so when the boat he was waiting for arrived just in time he secretly felt relieved. Five men in big coats disembarked along with some elements of the crew. The eldest one raised a brow at James and his partner.
"Doctor Faust, I presume?" asked the man.
"You presume well. Is everything okay with the cargo?"
"Absolutely; surely Mister Moriarty has already told you how reliable we are" responded the man, slightly annoyed for the evident lack of trust.
"Of course he has. But naturally you understand my concern since it's the first time we work together. Besides, the material I asked you to transport is very delicate; any unwanted particle in it and things can hardly go as planned", added Jim perfectly in character. Sebastian stood by his side, the slight noise of his clockwork heart muffled by that of the sea.
The man in front of them snorted. "Look, if you don't believe me, check the cargo yourself"
"That's exactly what I intend to do once you unpack it in that warehouse. Let's not call for more attention than the one your looks already do", finished Jim with a condescending grin before heading to the aforementioned area.
Once the biggest lackey placed a box in front of Jim, he took his knife out and stabbed the top of it dramatically. Some men winced. He took off the wooden lid and some of the protective materials and found his beloved nitro-glycerine along with the tubes of adrenaline and plasma he had ordered; a cargo full of hundreds of them would definitely make things easier for him. He kept on shuffling through the contents of the box until he got to a bag tightly packed and containing a brownish-looking powder. Jim went rigid.
"What is this?"
"Just some vintage stuff, you know, people have something for classics" replied the man who seemed to be the leader, making the rest of his lackeys laugh. Jim remained serious.
"I believe Mister Moriarty was very clear about his policy on drugs", said Jim in a voice that spoke 'danger'. The subordinates immediately stopped laughing, but their boss wouldn't back down so easily.
"Oh come on, you don't seriously believe you are the only one we transport for, do you? There are lots of people who ask for our services and we're not responsible for what they want to transport, we just do the moving-"
"Mister Moriarty asks for special treatment for his cargos, meaning no mixing his' with other people's affairs"
"Listen son, as much as we would want that to work, I can't make a trip all the way from Old Sicily to New London carrying just 'Mister Moriarty's' stuff. It's just not profitable"
"And that is just why Mister Moriarty pays so well" Jim's eyes were already announcing the storm about to fall over those men, and most of them were backing off, except for their leader.
"Well such is life, I've got plenty of business to attempt and I can't just stick to what a puritan that we haven't even met wants".
Silence fell after that. Suddenly, Jim's threatening expression switched to a very cheerful one, yet tense.
"You're right. Mister Moriarty is a very busy man, but he's not impolite. In fact, he was expecting to meet with you today. Sebastian", Jim called, signaling to his partner. "Can you take these gentlemen to Mister Moriarty? He'll certainly be delighted to meet them".
"Absolutely. This way, please", responded Sebastian walking to the back of the warehouse being followed by the smug Old-Sicilian and his pack of brutes. Not nearly five minutes had passed when the screams echoed throughout the place and Jim danced to them.
Water dripped from Sebastian's lean muscles as Jim cleaned him with the help of a sponge. The copper tub was barely big enough to contain the tall man.
"We had a very productive day Sebastian, the first of many more to come, I expect", said Jim, rubbing at the blood-stained cheek of the blond.
"I know what my duty is, Professor. I can assure you I'll take care of any eventuality".
"I know you will. I made you, after all" smiled Jim.
Sebastian perked up at that. "You can trust my skills, Professor. I won't let you down".
"Oh, that's an understatement. You may not remember it since I made sure to bury all of your past life's useless memories, prioritising muscle memory instead, but you were a wonderful sniper. You even earned yourself a medal, and for what I've heard, your carbine was not only handmade but also customised to fulfil your demands".
"Was it? And what happened to it?" Sebastian asked, his brow furrowed in the closest thing to confusion he could muster.
"Irrelevant", replied Jim, rinsing the sponge and placing it on the floor beside the tub. "Finish cleaning yourself up and meet me for dinner. And don't take long, I'm hungry".
James left the room pleased with himself. This experiment had turned out better than he had expected. So much better.
Apologies for the lack of posting but this will now be updated regularly every weekend. As usual, reviews would be highly, highly appreciated along with any constructive criticism.
Author notes
*"I believe Mister Moriarty is very clear about his policies on drugs". I have this massive headcanon in which Jim never helps with anything that has to do with drugs, mainly because his mother died because of them but also because he despises anything that can make people lose control. He understands the importance of control and of staying sharp if you intend to rule the whole criminal world. That is why he rarely drinks and why he hates painkillers that make his mind blurry and prevent him from thinking straight, along with drugs. Besides, his head is already hell without anything extra to help!
Discussions totally welcomed!