Music camp was AWESOME! We got to play Beethoven and a Queen medley and other stuff for the concert and I had fun with friends and I saw nerds and people in fandoms and a teenager in a t-shirt, shorts, a comforter (the blanket), and sunglasses in public at lunchtime.

Any coincidences with a real-life bombing incident is very unintended and completely coincidental.

I know nothing about German methods or cameras/security systems on "the tube" (or subway or whatever the heck they're called over there) so I'm sorry if I get anything wrong.

Also, if anyone gets OOC (I'm trying hard not to let that happen), let me know.


[Seven months before A Study In Pink]


"Seeeeeeebbbbbb, I'm bored!" Jim complained loudly. He was stretched out on the couch in sweatpants and a lime green v-neck t-shirt.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Sebastian muttered grumpily as he turned the page of a newspaper.

Jim thought a moment, then brightened. "Say, Sebby, lets go to Germany."

"What?" The Colonel looked up from the newspaper in surprise.

"You heard me. Come on, I want someone to die. Preferably multiple someones. A certain police force in Doichland are poking their wee little noses into my business, and Daddy doesn't like when his little ones bother him while he's working." Jim jumped up from the couch and clapped his hands together. "Grab your cello case, Seb, we're off to kill things!"


Two days and a plane trip for Sebastian Moran later, Jim had come up with a plan to eliminate the "little ones" that were "bothering him while he was working". The consulting criminal paid one of the security workers to make sure the cameras were turned away from one little section of walkway on the tube. Jim himself had ended up not going to Germany since Sebastian had insisted he stay home where it was safe.

Sebastian dyed his hair brunette for his disguise, and Jim (whom had seen him dye it before he left) loved it. Jim wouldn't be able to watch Sebastian do his work, of course, so he wouldn't know if it was successful until Sebby texted him. Jim would also text his tiger with warnings and instructions. The hired henchman would be helpful, too.

.

Sebastian Moran carried his cello case and two small bags over to the strip of walkway Jim had selected for him and sat down. From one bag he pulled out a foldable stool and unfolded it, and then he sat down. He unpacked his cello, being careful to avoid touching the secret compartment where his gun was. Sebastian left the cello case open to collect coins (part of the disguise, you see) and began to play some classical music. Hard to go wrong with classical.

In a half hour he had collected a sizable amount of pocket change. Sebastian glanced at the watch on his wrist; Jim's men would be placing the "Round Two" bombs now. Sebastian just needed to make sure passerby didn't notice.

(The "Round One" bomb was in Sebastian's other bag.)

He chose to play Smooth Criminal by the American, Michael Jackson. Lots of people would recognize it, of course, so they would focus on him instead of the henchmen.

By the time he had finished playing, he had received a text from Jim. It was from five minutes ago.

You have ten minutes to get out. Round One will begin in exactly ten minutes. Tee hee!

Sebastian went cold. He had been enjoying the music too much, and now he was running out of time. He needed to leave right now.

Sebastian packed up his stool and cello as quickly as he could without attracting attention. He grabbed the bag with the stool in it and his cello case and started walking away quickly.

The "Round One" bomb was small, but it contained bits of broken glass and shrapnel in it since Jim had been feeling particularly bored. It would not trigger the "Round Two" bombs (supposedly), which were placed on columns and the wall. It was meant to bring the ceiling down on the policemen that would be investigating; the same policemen that were poking around in Jim's business. All the bombs were remote control-activated. Jim had the controls.

He almost made it out. Sebastian had been so close-

Luckily, he was far enough away that barely any glass or shrapnel embedded itself in his legs or arms, and his cello case blocked most of the other sharp bits. He was glad that he didn't die, and he remained conscious. Screaming filled the area and Sebastian forced his way out with all of the panicking people. He gritted his teeth at the pain from as he strode forward.


Ten minutes after Jim detonated the bomb, he flipped open his phone and read his new text message.

police on their way to scene. got out. took cab to safe place. board plane tomorrow?

Jim grinned. He texted back and then ate a spoonful of Nutella.

Good job! You can't leave until I kill the little-ees. Loiter around the place and let me know when they're in position. Go do that. How much money did you get for your playing?

Response:

will do, boss. €27.69

Jim wasn't sure what the normal haul for street players was, so he opted to be impressed.

Go buy yourself something nice then, Tiger. But AFTER we eliminate the problem.


Sebastian yawned as he unlocked the door to their home and walked inside. He put his clothes he had packed and his cello case in his bedroom and paused as he pulled out his gift for Jim. Sebastian almost snorted. He couldn't believe he had bought that bastard anything after it was partly his fault that Sebastian had had to sew himself up in a crappy bed and breakfast bathroom after pulling out every single piece of shrapnel and glass. It hadn't helped that he'd only been able to take a small amount of painkillers after he'd done the stitches.

"Boss! You up?!" Sebastian yelled as he headed for Jim's room. Silence. Sebastian was a little bit worried until he heard someone creeping up from behind him. He tensed.

The moment the person had lay a hand on his shoulder, Sebastian grabbed him and flipped him over onto his back. He drew his fist back into a punch only to realize that he was about to break his employer's nose.

Jim wheezed, trying to speak. "Good," he managed to say. "Good reflexes."

"Sorry, boss!" Sebastian hauled Jim to his feet and looked him over for any signs of injury.

"Good job on the stealth, Seb. But if you ever do it again I'll kill you." Jim's voice went deadly at the second sentence and Sebastian nodded solemnly. Jim waved a hand- Had snipers almost shot Sebastian at the violence? Probably.

A pause, and then, in a playful tone again- "I hacked the police records; you're not mentioned once. In fact, it seems that no one has connected the cello player to the bombing." Jim grinned and nimbly snatched away the package Sebastian had tucked under his arm.

"Who's this for? Your girlfriend?" Jim tore open the package to find a grey v-neck t-shirt with an image of a black widow on it. Jim blinked.

"I noticed that since I wore the tiger shirt, you've been calling me Tiger. Which is weird, you know. So I found this shirt and thought, 'Hey, Boss is like a spider; a criminal one who knows his web like the back of his hand.'" Sebastian said cooly, though on the inside he fretted- no he didn't; fretting isn't manly- about how Jim would react.

Jim blinked again, then burst into a grin. "Clever! That was really clever; awfully clever. The nickname probably won't stick, though," Jim eyed the shirt thoughtfully.

Sebastian shrugged, masking his relief with nonchalance. "You of all people should know that I don't have a girlfriend, boss. I didn't really know what to use the money for anyway." He turned away and started walking toward the kitchen. "God, I'm starved. Did you eat all the Nutella while I was gone?"

Jim pulled off his t-shirt and put on the new one with the spider. "Maybe." He followed Sebastian into the kitchen, and then noticed something about the back of Sebastian's arms. "Why the hell do you have stitches in your arms?"

Sebastian rummaged through the cabinets and pulled out an almost empty Nutella container. "Aw, boss, I told you that this is bad for you, you can't just eat it all the goddamn time. This was full when I left! How the hell do you eat all that and not get sick, anyway?"

"Sebastian Moran."

Sebastian turned around sharply. Jim never, ever used his full name. Never. "Yes?"

"Did you get caught in the explosion of Round One?" Jim's face was a cool mask. Sebastian was a bit confused.

"Um...yes."

"Strip."

"What?!"

Jim furrowed his brows. "I want to see the extent of the damage."

Sebastian blinked. Not sexual, then. Was Jim...worried about him, perhaps?

As if reading his mind, Jim Moriarty glared. "I can't have injured personnel, they don't do their jobs right. Now strip."

Ah, it wasn't worry after all. Although, with that look in Jim's eyes, maybe he was worried after all. Sebastian shook his head in exasperation. "It's just a couple of cuts on my arms and legs. I'm not stripping. Calm down."

They locked eyes, both stubborn, both unwilling to submit to the other.

Eventually, Sebastian sighed and took off his shirt. "Look. Nothing on my chest, nothing on my back, just arms. Happy?"

Jim fixated his gaze on Sebastian's torso and ignored the old scars, looking for fresh wounds with thread in them. He only found them on Sebastian's arms. He looked pointedly at Sebastian's lower body and the poor colonel sighed again and took off his pants. Thank god he was wearing underwear. Jim inspected Sebastian once more.

Jim, of course, had been worried the moment he saw the stitches. He needed to know that he hadn't caused his only friend's near death or something drastic like that. He was greatly relieved to find that Sebastian was for the most part unharmed.

"There. Can I please eat something now?" Sebastian put his clothes back on and started making himself a sandwich.

"Make me one, too, and hurry up, Sleepy Hollow is on."

Ten minutes later, both Sebastian and Jim were settled down on the couch watching Johnny Depp play Ichabod Crane. It didn't take long for both to be unconscious. In the morning, one would awkwardly wake to find that he was entangled in a weird snuggle-like position with the other and have to get up and away before the other one noticed and woke up, too. I'll leave it to your imaginations which was awake and which was asleep at that embarrassing moment.