I suppose there might be some Doctor Who spoilers for the Last of the Time Lords episode if you haven't seen it, but I tried to keep it as vague as possible while still having the story.

Also, fluff…Yeah…I'm more of the blood/gore writer, so we'll see if I can pull of 'fluff'

It took time to get used to having another person in the flat. Having John stay for one night due to a late night contract and rather obvious coating of blood and gore clinging to the assassin's clothes? That had been a bit different. That had been one night, and John had left the next morning after eating. Now, however, the man was spending all of his time in Jim's flat. There was little other choice for the recovering assassin, and Jim himself hadn't lived with anyone else like this in a very, very long time. Even considering the rather short (in the grand scheme of things) time that the doctor would actually be staying, it was something that Jim had needed to adapt to. This had been all his idea after all. John was becoming an asset that he'd prefer not to lose. Especially after giving up Sebastian. Mainly, though he kept this close to chest, because he wanted to know why this man would ever jump in front of a bullet for Jim's own sake.

It all seemed rather ridiculous to him, really. Still did, even after these days spent with the man. It obviously wasn't because of some misguided sense of trust. No, that wasn't it at all because part of the reason it took days to get settled into a more relaxed routine around each other was because the assassin didn't trust him. Never had probably. Jim didn't blame the man as John was intelligent. More so than the Holmes brothers would likely ever give him credit for. As an assassin, especially a contract-killer like John who didn't have any sort of backup were things to go south, John knew as well as Jim that trust could get themselves killed. Trust the wrong person, and suddenly there's a bullet being fired into the back of his head. Jim had fully recognized the trust issues early on, but that had rather made living with the man more difficult. As well as trying to figure him out. After all, why would someone who jumped a bit when Jim came up behind them silently (then attempted to hide the fact) take a bullet for Jim? Even thought it was likely simply an instinctual action due to the split second reaction, it had still been a reaction to stand in the path of something that would have likely killed Jim himself. Of course, there was then the criminal's own reaction. Giving up his best sniper, taking the blame for John's injuries, and sending him off to a hospital. To avoid thinking too much on it, he simply told himself it was because he needed a new sniper and John would do a much better job than Sebastian likely ever would. That was all it would ever be.

While the first few days had been more than a bit rocky, by the time they were halfway through the week things were calming down a bit. Tensions draining a bit more. Jim had been slowly growing accustomed with having another person in the flat with him at all times of the day. With leaving to take care of small things himself and returning to find that John was, of course, still in the flat. It had grown easier to work around John as well. The man hardly moved from his spot on the couch where he alternated from sitting to being carefully sprawled out so as to not put too much stress on his wound and incision from the surgery. The assassin himself was slowly warming up to this arrangement as well. There was no doubt in Jim's mind that the other still didn't trust him in the slightest, but he'd relaxed enough to not make it so obvious. Their dynamic had grown far more casual while within the flat than Jim would have ever believed he'd be possible of. Partly, it was likely because his flats were where he took off the 'battle armor' that was his Westwoods and actually attempted to relax for a while. Partly, it was because John was the only person that had gotten this close to him. Human contact beyond the simple giving of orders to his own people was at a minimum. Few people worked directly with him as his whole empire ran on the fear of an invisible master who's reach was indeterminable. That wasn't how he and Sebastian had worked, but it was still professional. With John, he'd saved the man's life right in the beginning, took the man out to dinners so they could talk, actually worked to find him when the assassin had been kidnapped, sent him to a hospital personally, and then invited the man into one of his flats for the remainder of his recovery. Some things just didn't add up in Jim's mind, but he did know that he and John were closer than he'd allowed other people. Jim wasn't entirely sure what to think about that.

"What could you have possible done to tear your stitches?" Jim questioned as he wiped at the mentioned area carefully. Trying to stop the bleeding that had started up. This was another part of their arrangement of course. John couldn't reach his own wound to give it the proper treatment it needed to prevent infections, which left that task to Jim himself. This had taken quite a while for both of them to get used to, but they now had it down to an art form. It was also when Jim was able to see more skin that he'd been permitted in the past. That he doubted must people had been permitted to see due to the rather obvious scars that littered the skin. The most prominent of which being on the left shoulder, and from the way it looked Jim actually wondered how John was still able to use his left arm at all.

"I'm watching Doctor Who," John responded, sounding very much convinced that it was a suitable excuse. Jim, on the other hand, gave the assassin an incredulous look.

"Doctor Who?" he questioned, checking the bleeding as he did so. "What does this have to do with a show?" He carefully set the bloodied cloth to the side to get a new one as he began cleaning the area. A med kit was beside him and waiting to be used to restitch the wound once more. There wasn't a need to go to all this effort to keep the other alive if he was simply going to allow his wounds to get infected.

"I laughed," John replied crossly, leaving Jim to chuckle despite himself.

"Oh Johnny, it's a wonder you've lived this long." Jim hummed, taking up a needle and suture before expertly threading the needle. John didn't even flinch when the needle slipped through the skin as Jim started stitching the other up.

"Have you even watched Doctor Who?" John questioned, and it actually caught Jim a bit off guard. Him? Watch Doctor Who? It was about the most absurd thought that someone could have about the consulting criminal.

"Of course I have," Jim drawled.

"Then you'd know what I was talking about!" John said, and Jim didn't have to look to hear a bit of a smirk in the other's tone.

"Yes, and I've never laughed so hard to the point where I could tear stitches." Jim replied.

John huffed. "It's not like I was actually trying to tear them."

"Might as well have been," Jim murmured as he finished off his work and tied a knot. "Really, Johnny, you didn't have to tear all of them."

"Wanted to give you something to do," John quipped in return as he turned in his place to regard the criminal. Jim himself was wearing a simple white button up with a collar and black jeans. It was the most casual he ever was. The criminal's hands were currently bloodied from tending to John, and despite himself a brief flash of when the assassin had been shot ran through his mind. Same blood, different reasons, different places.

"It's not all that bad," John added, tone light though he seemed to have read Jim's thoughts. Another thing that made the man an oddity.

"It's a good thing I don't have blood on anything," Jim commented, dark eyes flicking around as if in search of any hiding blood stains. "You'd pay for it." He added in a hum with a smirk.

John only rolled his eyes a bit before grabbing his shirt and pulling it on. Jim blinked while the man did so. As if just noticing that the other hadn't done so already. In the past, John would take his shirt off and fidget until he was cleared to yank it back on at the first opportunity. That hadn't been the case this time, and it had actually taken Jim this long to notice. He didn't like that. It meant he could be slipping around John, but it obviously meant that the other man was as well. He'd left himself bared to Jim for a long few minutes, after all. Then again, Jim might have even believed he was reading too much into everything. Making the same mistakes dear Sherlock always did when he wanted everything to have a cookie cutter, textbook purpose, and was always so easy to fool when that weakness was exploited. It wouldn't do for Jim to slip into that same way of thinking. Wanting everything to have a second motive that came out of a textbook, and wanting everything to be clever.

He supposed that was how John had managed to hide himself from Sherlock for so long. The man didn't really appreciate that someone like John, whom he'd finally grown to trust and fit the bill of the textbook 'good man' perfectly, could be anything less than what he appeared. That Sherlock's little Doctor John Watson was nothing of the sort, and that he had the potential to be incredibly intelligent and cruel given the chance. That John killed for a living. That John enjoyed the kill. Jim had been around the man enough in the aftermath of a contract to know that much. He'd been there to witness the slow wind down off the adrenaline, that high John got from killing another person. In knowing that he wouldn't be caught yet again. John Watson relished the death he caused, and the controlled chaos he had the ability to create given the right circumstances and motives. It really wasn't a wonder as to why Jim wanted to keep the man around. Especially with Sebastian gone. He had a bit of an opening in his organization now.

John was growing far more comfortable that he'd like to admit. The first signs of this became obvious when the sixth day he'd spent recovering in the criminal's flat rolled around. It was when he finally noticed that in his head Moriarty had become Jim. He'd had to stop for a moment, suddenly ignoring everything else around him, as he tried to search and work through when he'd made this change. When the man had grown to be on a first name basis. The problem being that John couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. It had been a natural shift from one thing to the other. Unforced. Not even realizing it until he was already referring to one James Moriarty as Jim.

It wasn't long after that that John began to think of Sherlock. The man was his best friend. A sad but true reality as he was very aware that he'd gotten too close to the detective. As an assassin it was dangerous to form ties and connections for more than one reason. It was why he worked so hard to maintain separate identities in the criminal underground and in civilian life. More important now as he was both protecting and hiding from Sherlock. Of all people to finally befriend, of course it had to be a brilliant detective. If anything, however, John was more worried about Mycroft finding out. Sherlock he could deal with. The British Government? The man's overprotective streak for his brother would likely lead to John being thrown in a very dark hole somewhere where he'd be forgotten about. Given this, one might that an intelligent and sane person capable of cool, rational thought would leave London without a trace. That was rather the problem, he supposed.

The danger and thrill of London never ceased to amaze him. When he wasn't on a contract he was racing about through the streets after criminals with Sherlock. Getting shot at and shooting others with little to no repercussions as it was all 'self-defense' and 'for the greater good'. Then, at night or otherwise, John could go out and work. Carrying out contracts and getting the shot of adrenaline from those thrills. Now he was caught between two very different kinds of danger. Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty. Sherlock was the brand that, while the threat of capture was always evident, was also the safest. There wasn't a risk, if John felt like comparing them to drugs, a risk of an overdose. Of too much. With Jim, however…The criminal pulled the strings. In everything he did he was almost always the one dangling down his puppets and allowing them to do what he wanted blindly while Jim always knew what was going on. John wasn't naïve. He knew that the other was likely looking for the assassin to work for him now that Sebastian was gone and out of the picture. Jim was a danger all in himself without adding anything to it, and he was the one where it would be so easy to go over the edge. To get too much, too quickly, and then be unable to crawl back out again. Considering his ties to Sherlock, Jim could easily use his knowledge to his advantage and out the assassin. Or send the man on a contact that ended in the elder Holmes finding out exactly who John really was, and then that he was now taking contracts from Jim. It was a bit of a vicious cycle. Everything surrounding Jim had the possibility of utterly destroying the careful structure that John had built and maintained in his life…and he'd be damned if he left now.

Taking a bullet intended for another person was a bit of an eye-opener. John hadn't thought, only reacted. His first instinct being to ensure that Jim survived, even when the chances were high that the bullet could hit something important and kill John himself. That was a different kind of danger altogether. That was eerily similar to the attachment he had to Sherlock. Beyond the working dynamic he and Jim had previously created. Closer to friendship, if it could be called that. Even with everything else aside, they were still consulting criminal and contract-killer. There certainly wasn't much of a name for whatever it was that they were. John only knew it had the definite potential to be disastrous. Yet, even so, it was impossible to avoid anything now. He'd already been drug into everything, gone far too deep to pull out easily now. John wasn't so sure if he even wanted to anymore. The work he'd been getting from Jim was challenging. More of a challenge than he'd received in years. There just weren't very many good contracts out there. Well paying ones, yes. The assassin wasn't in it only for the money though, and Jim offered the thrills. The challenges. The opportunity to actually push and test the skills he'd learned over the many years he'd spent in this profession. Moral principles and issues were not a problem when it came to continuing whatever this dynamic was with Jim. He killed people for a living; Jim was the one having those people killed. There wasn't a lot of room for the morals to be factored into this decision. No, it had simply been his commitment to Sherlock and his genuine lack of wanting to be ousted and backstabbed that he'd been cautious in his dealings with the criminal. Now he was staying with the man and having idle conversations whenever Jim saw fit to either change his bandages or sit down and talk. It was certainly strange.

More so when, almost a week into his time spent in Jim's flat, he was sprawled carefully across one of the sofa's watching Doctor Who when Jim was suddenly by him. The assassin had glanced up only to scramble to move when Jim made to sit. Given that he couldn't go too fast because of his wound, it was a near miss of John having his legs sat on. He sent a questioning glance to the criminal who merely smirked back at him in response.

"Problem, Johnny?" he hummed, dark eyes glittering.

"Not at all," John replied easily, though confused by this. Eventually he was pulled back to the screen. It was a rerun. He'd seen most of the seasons, but he didn't mind rewatching and this episode especially. Even if it was a bit sad. It was The Last of the Time Lords and it was about halfway through. Nearing the end, John was more than a bit transfixed as he watched the Master's and the Doctor's interactions. He always was, really. Especially in this episode since he'd seen the other seasons.

"Bit ironic, isn't it?" Jim questioned, looking to the other. "Go through all that pain on the Doctor's part, all the guilt and we both know what happens only a season later. Back from the dead, insane, and more powerful than ever."

John hummed as he looked back to the criminal. "So you really do watch Doctor Who." He teased.

"Would I lie to you?" Jim asked, innocent as could be.

"Yes," the assassin replied, not buying into it.

"Good to know your Russian friends didn't do anything to your intelligence," Jim stated with a small nod, and John had to sit there and wonder a bit about the fact that it sounded much like he'd been paid a compliment in the criminal's own way.

"Wish they'd get new 'friends'," John said, attention fully off of the television screen now that the show had ended. He heard the telltale theme of the show going off behind him, but he didn't pay it any mind. Focusing instead on Jim.

"Another assassin will come around and get their attention," Jim drawled lazily. "If that one survives long enough another one will come along. It's how things work. You have the need to feel the adrenaline with each kill, the Mafia will look for the next enemy, and dear Sherly looks for the next case."

While what Jim said had some merit to it, John was still getting stuck on only one part of it. "Sherly? What is your infatuation with nicknames?"

"Bother you, Johnny?" Jim singsonged with a bit of a smirk.

"Not in the slightest, Jim." John replied, and it was only when he saw the briefest flash of confusion break through the other's mask for a split second that the assassin realized what he'd said aloud. While Moriarty had become Jim in his head, he hadn't said it. This was the first time and for all intents and purposes despite the working relationship they'd been thrown into because of Sebastian's mess what felt like ages ago they really shouldn't have ever gotten to a first-name basis with each other -though Jim had never actually used John's given name rather than his pet names. They honestly probably shouldn't have gotten to the point where they were comfortable enough to be around each other with little to no weapons while they bantered about Doctor Who. Yet here they both were.

Jim recovered quickly and was soon acting as if nothing had happened, "I was going to tell you that you'll be watching the flat for awhile," he hummed. "I doubt you'd try anything stupid while I'm gone for business, but just in case don't try to leave."

John's brow furrowed a bit in confusion. "Sorry? You're actually going to just leave me here?" He questioned as the criminal stood.

"That is what I said, Johnny-boy." Jim replied, sounding a touch annoyed at having to clarify further.

"How long do you think you'll be gone, then?" John asked.

"A few weeks," the criminal said. "By the time I'm back you'll be able to scamper on back to Sherlock."

"Okay," John said, drawing out the word a bit.

"Problem?" Jim asked, tone dropping dangerously. There was one of the things that had the potential to be both terrifying, given the right circumstances, and/or thrilling. Jim's mood swings. He'd heard several phone calls where the man could bounce between happy murderous and back again in the same breath.

"No," John answered, and Jim turned to fix him with an unreadable look for several long moments.

"The bullet wound will be healed enough that you move –or laugh—without worrying about hurting yourself. I'm sure you'll be dying to leave." Jim said.

John shrugged. "Yeah, sit around the flat and think about how I can't go on contracts…Can't wait."

"Hmm…" With that Jim was disappearing into one of two rooms John had never been in. The criminal's bedroom, rather than the study this time.

It wasn't until the next morning, when he woke up to find a note within reach, that he learned when Jim was leaving. Apparently while John had been asleep. There were plenty of things stocked in the kitchen to eat, so that wouldn't be an issue. The first week was boring. It was odd not having the constant presence of the criminal within the flat. It felt a bit empty and strange. Silent. His wound had been getting far better. The stitches were unneeded as the skin had finally sealed up. By the second week he was moving around a bit easier, and in the middle of the second week along in Jim's flat there was a knock on the door.

The assassin's eyes narrowed as he watched the door. Listening and waiting. Eventually a person walked in. A rather ordinary looking man in sweats and a tee-shirt that was hauling a mat in behind him. John was left to stare.

"Boss says I'm suppose to spar with you until the he comes back," the man eventually said once the mat, which he recognized as the kind put down for the purpose of sparring, was laid out. Padded enough to avoid too much damage, yet sturdy enough to provide stable footing. At the mention of sparring John visibly perked up. His interest now peaked.

It took him until the next week, having sparred whenever the man (whose name John didn't know as he'd never asked) could come for a short hour…Or however long the still recovering assassin could last before needing to stop, before he realized why Jim had done this. John needed to be able to work himself back up to his peak physical condition after being injured, and with his sparring partner he was slowly working up to it once more. He was getting stronger it felt as each day passed. His fighting better, and his movements smoother and more rhythmic as they had been. While the assassin wasn't fully healed yet, he was still putting his sparring partner on his back more often than not now. While John might not be able to take contracts for a few months so Sherlock or anyone else didn't become too suspicious of the kills after 'catching' the last assassin, he would still be in the proper physical state before then. Which left John with a question. Why would Jim want him able to work as he had before getting shot? Did the criminal have contracts in mind already, or was it something else? He had mentioned how bored he'd be…At this rate, John was just accepting that he'd never understand the man. Best to stop trying and just hang on for the ride, it seemed.

So…Now that I'm healthy again and exams are over I've finally updated. I feel horrible for making everyone wait so long, especially after I left an author's note saying how much the people who read this mean to me –and everyone who left wonderful reviews afterwards—so I can honestly say I'm sorry for disappearing. I've updated in time for the holidays though, and I've been trying to increase my word output…We'll see how long that lasts.

As always,

Have a good day

Reaperess ^_^