Sebastian was sitting up in bed, still disgusted by what Jim had turned John into, when Jim came up. "How's your lap dog?" he said, bitterness creeping into his voice.
Jim raised an eyebrow and looked at him coolly. "Obedient. Why do you suddenly care so much?"
"I just think it's disgusting, what you're doing to him," Sebastian said. "He might've been annoying, but he was talented. I thought you didn't like disgusting little drones. You keep me around, after all, and I'm always mouthing off to you. I'm good for you."
"Yes," Jim said sharply, "You're good enough for the pair of you. I get enough mouth from you that it's nice to have someone willing to jump into action at my every word. John is none of your business."
Sebastian swallowed. "Yes, boss," he murmured submissively. He pulled off his t-shirt, giving his back wounds and bruised ribs a chance to breathe a bit, then lay down.
Jim gave him an annoyed look before he dropped onto the bed next to him. "And I swear to God, if I ever hear you utter another word in John Watson's defense, I'll chop his balls off and have him cook them up and feed them to your for breakfast."
"Y-yes, boss. Understood," Sebastian murmured, inching to the farthest edge of the bed to stare sleeplessly at the ceiling. "Good night," he added hollowly.
Jim just huffed and rolled away, too annoyed to do anything else at the moment, and went to sleep.
Sebastian lay awake, thinking hard. There were only two more hit men to be dealt with, and the final one would require a distraction on his part, as it could take the better part of a night to finalize, and this man was the most likely to get word back to Jim that things had gone wrong. He couldn't help be amazed and proud of Sherlock's work so far—Jim's web was crumbling from the inside and Jim hadn't even noticed yet, so sneakily was it being done. It gave Sebastian a sliver of hope, and as he tossed in bed, he devised a distraction for the final kill. He'd need to pin some details down with Sherlock.
The next morning, Sebastian came downstairs and John was making omelets for him and Jim. "Thank you," he said, as John put the omelet and a pile of hash browns on his plate, but John didn't even look at him, just gave him a courteous little nod.
"Jim," he said. "This Saturday's a really special day. Do you remember?"
"No," Jim said boredly from where he was sitting, one leg crossed over the other as he read the paper. John brought over the omelet for Jim and a glass of orange juice before he quickly went and climbed into his cupboard, closing the door, still not supposed to be out when Sebastian was around.
"It's the anniversary of the day I fell under your employ," Sebastian said. "I know we've never really celebrated it before, but this will mark the 4th year, and I think it would be nice if you took me out to dinner. I'm sure I could think of something nice to do for you afterwards," he said, raising an eyebrow and running his shoe along Jim's.
Jim raised an eyebrow as he looked up at him. "Hm...perhaps. I have a meeting until seven, however...I suppose I could spare some time after that...you've gotten awfully sentimental, Sebastian."
"Not sentimental, boss, just realizing that a nice dinner every once in a while can be very enjoyable," he said. "And I hardly think you'll be calling me sentimental after the night is over," he said, grinning cheekily and winking. "'Sex tiger' might be the more applicable term."
"Oh, is that so?" Jim asked, a bit more interested. "Well, darling. If you set the reservations, I suppose I can be bothered to show up." He closed the paper and set it down.
"Don't pretend like you're not excited, Jim," Sebastian said, running his hand along his boss's tie. "It's been quite a while since we've spent any quality time together..."
Jim gave him a sort of coy look and batted his hand away. 'Very well, then. I've got to go. Bus bombings in Bahrain start soon, I've a meeting with the Finnish ambassador, and I might reprogram the traffic lights in Hammersmith just for kicks."
Sebastian sighed. "Fine. See you later," he said, teasingly brushing his hand over Jim's groin and giving it a light squeeze as he rose.
Jim smirked and arched one of his black eyeborw. He slapped Sebastian's arse then went over to John's cupboard. "You'll be staying in here while I'm gone. After that cat incident, I don't know that I can trust you to come out when I'm not here. Get out and go to the toilet now, because I won't be here to let you out for a while. Now hurry up," he snapped.
John scrambled out of the cupboard with mumbled yes, master's and sorry, master's, and went to the toilet. He took a small drink of water from the sink. He hadn't been allowed food yesterday, and it seemed that he wasn't going to get any today, either. As he hurried back and climbed into the cupboard, his stomach rumbled loudly. "Maybe if you're good, I'll bring you back another little gift," Jim said before he shut the door and locked it.
Jim came back that evening with a prawn sandwich for John, and let him out to eat it, then set him about on his evening chores as usual. John automatically went back to his cupboard when Sebastian came home, and slaved as hard as he could on chores when he was let out to do them over the next couple of days. When Saturday arrived, Jim let John out during the day. "I want this place cleaned, and I want my gray Westwood suit laid out, and the crocodile shoes. Do a good job, Johnny. You may have some lunch at noon. There is an apple and two slices of bread in the fridge for you to eat. If Sebastian comes home, go to your cupboard until he leaves, then resume cleaning. I'll see you later."
John felt a wash of relief and gratitude at the prospect of being out of the cupboard while Jim wasn't there. He'd get to walk about. "Yes—yes of course, master, I'll do my best. Thank you, thank you."
John spent the next few hours milling around, cleaning and scrubbing the house until every windowpane gleamed and every corner was free of dust, wanting to please Jim. He found himself humming, so glad to be out in the sunlight and alone, no risk of getting hurt or making a horrible mistake.
When Jim returned, he glanced around the house then found John and instructed him to help him dress for the night.
"Come on, upstairs, hurry up. There's a package of biscuits in it for you if you snap to."
John scrambled upstairs and hurried up to Jim's room where he had laid out Jim's things. He grabbed the crisp white shirt first and held it out for Jim to slip into it.
Jim held out his arms as John buttoned up his shirt and secured Jim's cufflinks, then John helped him into his jacket, trousers, shoes, and necktie. Jim stood in front of the mirror. "How does your master look, Johnny?"
"Fantastic, master. Very handsome," John said, glancing up to meet his eyes in the mirror before lowering them back down to the floor. "Where are you going?"
"Helene Darroze, then a hotel. I'll return in the morning. Fix yourself a baked potato for dinner. You may allow the cat to sleep with you tonight," Jim said, smoothing out his suit. "Any other questions?"
John felt a bit of happiness swell inside of him, then pursed his lips and glanced up at Jim again, "Is...is Sebastian going to be here, master...?" he asked, hoping that the sniper was going with.
"No, obviously not. He'll be with me all evening. I'm expecting you to behave yourself, Johnny. We wouldn't want to get abandoned in the cupboard again, would we?"
John shook his head quickly. He'd be here alone with Mrs. Buttons. He allowed himself a small and gave a little contented sigh. "Is there anything else you'd like me to help you with, master?"
"Shine my shoes, John. Kit's in the closet," Jim said, sitting on his bed and waiting.
John nodded and grabbed the kit, moving to sit in front of Jim, crossing his legs and setting Jim's feet on his knees. He hummed softly to himself as he pulled out the rag and polish and started to work the shoes over.
"Do you enjoy being under my authority, John? Are you happy to serve me?" Jim asked.
John blinked down at the shoes, caught off guard by the question, the frowned up at him, his humming stopped. "I..." John paused for a moment. Jim was all he had now—the only one that ever talked to him or did anything for him, gave him anything. He didn't know if he was happy or not anymore. He felt safe, at least. He felt he knew what to do to please Jim most of the time. "Yes, of course," John answered. He paused before asking quietly and fearfully, "Did I do something wrong, master?"
"No, no, no...far from it, John. I'm very pleased with you. Didn't I tell you things would be easier, happier, once I fixed your silly malfunctioning heart for you? How would you feel to be one of my employees, John? You would still be my medic, but you'd also get to help Sebastian protect me. How would you feel about that?"
John's brow furrowed again. "I don't think Sebastian would like that." He had a flash in his mind of the other man turning the gun on him and firing.
"Forget working with Sebastian. You'd be working for me, to protect me, to serve me. Would you like that?" Jim asked.
"Would I get to go outside, master?' John asked, looking up at him.
"Yes. If I felt you were trustworthy enough," Jim said. "Going outside would be part of the job. How would you feel about killing people, John?"
John clenched his jaw, and lowered his head to continue polishing Jim's shoes. If he said that he didn't want to, Jim would probably just shove him back in the cupboard, but John didn't want to do it. He didn't like it—especially innocent people. Softly, he mumbled, "That's okay master...I can...I can just stay here..."
"Ahhha," Jim said. Not quite there yet. He wasn't surprised, but he'd wanted to ask to make sure. It would likely take a while longer and some further conditioning before John was ready for that point. It would come, of course it would, but it would take a while longer. He lifted John's chin to meet his eyes. "That's all right, then. Give me a kiss, Johnny, and then I'm off."
John swallowed and blinked his eyes away before moving to his knees to kneel between Jim's legs to give him a small kiss on the lips before he dropped back down to sit. "Goodbye, master." John glanced up at him and began to pack up the shoe shining kit.
"Work hard, Johnny, and you'll be rewarded," Jim said, then took off, whistling, for the restaurant.