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Title: Someone to Notice
Author: EntreNous (entrenous88)
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: Jim Moriarty/John Watson
Rating: Explicit
Disclaimer: All Sherlock characters herein are the property of Steven Moffatt, Mark Gatiss, the BBC, and of course ACD. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: highlight to read **Minor Violence, Age Difference, Student-Teacher Relationship, Canon Typical Violence**
Chapter Word Count: 5,681 words.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to wesleysgirl for the beta. Next (and final!) update is on Thursday. Read this chapter below or at AO3.
Summary: While training to be a secondary school teacher (and pursuing some rather illegal activities outside of the classroom), Jim Moriarty takes a keen interest in shy, bullied teenager John Watson.

Someone to Notice

Chapter Eight

John roused himself just before Jim left a half hour later. He padded into the living room wearing only his boxers, t-shirt, and his smudged taped glasses to watch Jim depart.

Jim gave him a fond smile as he flung a scarf around his neck, internally adding to his mental check-list that they ought to see about getting John contacts. Shame to let his view of those pretty blue eyes be in any way obscured.

"So I'll meet you back here later. After I go to get some of my things back at the house." John crossed his arms, looking a little nervous.

"Yes. I'll come straight away after work -- oh, but I nearly forgot! First I'll have to drop off my mate's car. Then I'll have to take the bus home from there." Once Jim added in an excuse about having to wait for a bus that wasn't already bursting with passengers, that would more than account for the amount of time he needed to tie up loose ends on his current project tonight.

"Yeah, all right." John shifted, clearly more uncomfortable now than he had been just a moment ago.

"You said your family wouldn't be there during school hours, remember? It will be fine when you go to fetch your things," Jim assured him. It had damn well better be; Jim had already alerted his people to make certain none of the other Watsons were anywhere near the home while John ventured inside.

"Yeah, I know. It's just. The car, the one your mate lent you."

Jim gave John a mildly inquisitive look back, though inside he was avidly curious to hear how this might go. John hadn't questioned Jim about Sebastian's presence after they had left his home; no surprise, perhaps, with the way things had unfolded between them soon after. Still, even the overwhelming events of last night couldn't have kept them from the matter for long. He hadn't expected John to bring up the topic that morning, though, not after they were both still languid and affectionate after their tumble. But then John was forever surprising him in the best sorts of ways.

"Why was he with you last night?" John asked in a rush. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he looked a little startled. "No, that's not what I -- what I meant to ask was: why were the two of you even there with the car, in the neighborhood where I live? How did you decide to come round?" He looked expectantly at Jim, but before Jim could open his mouth to answer John rushed to add, "But since I asked about your friend, I might as well ask about where I know him from. Because I've seen him somewhere before, maybe at the coffee shop, or from somewhere round the school." John set his jaw firmly and met Jim's eyes with a direct gaze. "Haven't I?"

"Have you?" Jim returned, letting his brow furrow a tiny bit to show he was perplexed. Maybe John had noticed more than he'd let on ages ago, back at the alley near the school where those stupid little thugs had tried to hurt him. "I suppose it's possible. Small town, after all! But I wouldn't know if you'd met him before or not. As for why we were there, well." He let his gaze drop to the ground and ran a hand through his hair. "Ever since the time I was with you in the nurse's office, I've worried a bit about your, erm, home situation." He gave an obvious swallow to show how hesitant he felt bringing up the topic. "You said a few things that roused my suspicions that maybe things weren't as they ought to be with your parents."

When John's eyes widened, Jim hastened to continue. "Then the very next day, I saw bruises on your wrists. I don't think anyone else noticed, mind you, but I did, just a glimpse. It bothered me more than I can say. After we went and saw the film together, I couldn't help but stop by your neighborhood some nights when I had a spare moment. I was just, I don't know, imagining if anything went wrong, maybe I could be there and help somehow." He shrugged. "Silly, I know. Except it turned out not to be, didn't it? I'd apologize for seeming a little overbearing or, I don't know, I guess it could seem slightly obsessive--"

"How could it seem obsessive if you noticed enough to want to help me when no one else ever did?" John asked fiercely.

Jim let his expression turn pained. "No one else did?"

John's laugh was bitter. "No one's ever put it together. Not a damn one of my teachers once said anything to me, anyway."

"Well, Miller said --" Jim hesitated.

"What? What did he say? When?"

Jim shook his head, making sure to seem reluctant. "It was the very first day you and I spoke alone, just beforehand. He said you had problems at home, but he didn't say what specifically."

"You know, that's even worse?" John said as if to himself. "I always thought none of them could tell, or we moved around too much for anyone to begin to figure it out. But if they knew something was wrong and didn't give enough of a fuck to do anything, god." He inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm himself. "But you did." He gazed at Jim, his blue eyes transforming from unhappy to shining, earnest. "You noticed me. You cared enough to see what was really going on."

"I couldn't help it," Jim told him softly. "It wasn't why I was meant to be there, obviously. But I can't help but think it's the best thing that's come out of my time at that miserable little school."

John looked a little surprised and laughed slightly. "I thought you liked teaching."

"Oh, I like it very much indeed when I find a student worth my time." Jim winked, and John laughed again even as he blushed. "But speaking of teaching, I really had better leave right now so I can make it in time. I'll see you tonight?" He darted forward to press a quick kiss against John's lips.

"Wait, your mobile," John blurted when Jim opened the door. "You wouldn't want to forget that."

Jim glanced to the side table and blinked. It took him a second to recognize the cheap device he carried about at the school. Terribly inconvenient to work with something so primitive, really, but he needed it so he could flourish about a model that fit the part, as well as to give a harmless number out to marks like Molly or to the overbearing gaggle of instructors who supervised the teaching assistants.

"Right. Yes! Good thing you spotted it. Tonight, then?" He tucked the mobile into his shoulder bag and blew John a kiss before he trotted out.


"Yes, obviously," Jim snapped when one of his regular minions Sebastian had rounded up confirmed a key point of their plan. "I do wish all of you would keep up in the first place instead of needing to check on every little fucking thing!"

The man made no reply but his expression tightened before he turned away to his task of setting up the scope of his rifle.

Sebastian said nothing but a moment later took Jim aside. "They know how to handle it," he said in a low voice, jerking his head to indicate the team of men stationed at their designated spots. "Everything is in place, and they're well aware of their roles."

"Ugh, you're right, I know it!" Jim shoved his hands in the pockets of his fine suit trousers and gave a little shrug. "Sometimes I just like to shout a bit to get some of the pre-game jitters out. You must have some method to vent the stress of it all as well. What's your secret? A brief but profound meditation in that skull of yours, while you stand there looking wooden and muscular? Maybe you recite complicated mathematical sequences in your head while you scan the area for the best limbs to break first?" When Sebastian predictably failed to react to his goading, he sighed heavily. "It's hard being a perfectionist, it truly is. I only want everything to be just so."

"It will be. You have my word."

"Ah, well, for what that's worth," Jim sniffed. "Oh, don't look like that," he continued, rolling his eyes even though Sebastian only regarded him evenly. "I've very nearly forgiven you for your little slip-up over at the Watson place, which is awfully big of me when you violated my one very simple directive on that front." He shook his finger at Sebastian to scold him. "Yes, you were a great help with taking care of the messy business at the end with our new friend, but letting it all happen in the first place!" He tutted disapprovingly.

Sebastian stood, stoic. Jim so appreciated that he didn't whinge about how David Watson's vicious bullying of his son was utterly beyond his reach. They both knew he would blame Sebastian for it only for, well. However long he wished, actually.

"Still, I won't forget how you earned those points at the end," he mused. "Go on, then. Dazzle me a little more with tales of your fine work." He clasped his hands under his chin and asked, "Will Pere Watson be able to walk today?"

"Not easily," Sebastian allowed.

"Good, good," Jim said, delighted. "I do hope there's evidence of that for me to enjoy later."

Sebastian inclined his head slightly, and Jim squeezed his hands tighter together in anticipation. No doubt there were detailed photographs and perhaps even audio recordings. "He understands he doesn't get any second chances? That he's not to lay a hand on his wife again, stupid coward though she is, nor that disgusting slag of his daughter?"

Sebastian gave him a brisk nod.

"Now that's exactly what Daddy likes to hear." He grinned at Sebastian. "Lovely. If all goes well today, really, I'd say you're back in my good books once again. If that's not incentive to execute this flawlessly, I don't know what is!"

"Everything will go as planned."

Jim dropped his teasing and his smile, acknowledging Sebastian's assurance with a cool stare. He needn't poke his bear for fun now anyway, not when there was a great deal more amusement just waiting to be had with the resolution of their little project. "Excellent. Well, we've our team in place, and all the players seem to have arrived. Shall we?"

Sebastian gestured for Jim to go first.

"Such a gentleman," Jim simpered before striding off at a rapid clip. After all, the sooner they could put their little plan into action and wrap it up, the sooner he could get home to John.


It was the work of only a few moments to pick the classroom door's lock. With Sebastian paused at the ready in the corridor behind him, Jim threw the door open with a bang, causing the little clutch of those gathered inside to startle obviously.

He swept the room with his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. His targets were gathered in a funny misshapen little circle of chairs, just as though they were a gaggle of students performing assigned group work or a bevy of parents invited in to meet about the curriculum.

A quick check confirmed they were all present. The first three Jim knew all too well: the English senior instructor, Miller; the nurse De Quincy who had patched up John the day he'd been set on by bullies; the Chemistry instructor, Flanders (the only one of the lot deserving of maybe half an ounce of pity, as she had to mentor that dull dolt Molly Hooper). Then there sat two others Jim only knew of only from the files Sebastian's grunts had put together: a tedious simpleton who worked in the front office called Fran Perkins, and a thick-set cantankerous looking man, the night custodian Peter Cooper.

All of them were sat at the front of the room leaning together in a conspiratorial cohort, obviously in the middle of some or other negotiation. At first they were the very picture of astonishment at having been interrupted, but their gaping mouths and wide eyes soon gave way to expressions of heightened wariness and smoldering suspicion. Flanders evidently gathered her wits about her faster than the rest. She reached for a large ledger open on a close-by desk, and, keeping her eyes trained on Jim's face, eased it closed with deliberate care.

"Oh, would you look at that, a ledger! In this day and age!" Jim shook his head. "How adorable."

"Mr Moriarty," Miller said evenly. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, am I interrupting?" Jim touched the fingertips of his right hand to his heart and then let his knuckles stroke down slowly to show off the lapel of his expensive suit jacket. "Bother, wouldn't you know I'd be late to our very first consultation? Me, who prides himself on being early!"

"Whatever you think you are walking into, I can tell you right now that this is not an open meeting," De Quincy said, stern and furious. "You ought to leave at once." She tugged irritably at the cheap cardigan covering her nurse's uniform and turned to Miller with a hard look, clearly expecting him to clear up this little snag.

"Isn't it?" Jim frowned and took a few steps forward. He patted his pockets and withdrew a piece of paper. "I must have misread the memorandum." He peered down at the page and pursed his lips. "Because the message I got seemed to say I was running the show from now on."

While Perkins shot a worried glance to the phlegmatic appearing Flanders, Miller cleared his throat and got to his feet. "Jim," he began with a frown, pausing to get his bearings before continuing. "Though you shouldn't be on school grounds after hours without having cleared it with one of the senior staff first, at least now I can see you're all right." He moved forward, subtly positioning himself between Jim and the rest of the group. "You never phoned in to tell anyone you wouldn't be reporting to the school today for your duties, which, as I'm sure you well know, is both expected and required. Of course I was quite worried, and had Fran here leave several messages inquiring after you."

"That's awfully sweet of you," Jim murmured. "I really didn't know you cared so much." He batted his eyelashes at Miller and sent a wide smile Perkins's way over Miller's shoulder. She frowned uncomfortably at his leering and quickly looked away.

"Yes, well. It may be you thought to come round this evening and explain yourself in person." Though he would likely have hidden it capably from anyone even slightly less keen-eyed than Jim, underneath Miller's customary calm and courteous expression a slow burning fury was beginning to simmer. "You obviously forgot I wouldn't typically be here at this time; that you caught me here tonight was purely serendipitous." His tone hardened as he went on with the slightest twinge of regret: "But as I'm sure you do recall, the procedure for letting the senior instructors know about your absences or any personal time you need is quite clear --"

"It really is," Jim agreed, ignoring the way Miller stiffened at the interruption. He brushed a bit of non-existent lint from his jacket sleeve and examined the slight sheen of his buffed, manicured nails. "You've outdone yourselves with your procedures and protocols, making certain that everything that takes place in the school is exactly as it should be. Really, you ought to be commended for the way you have the rules and regulations laid out -- particularly the unwritten ones!" He cocked his head to the side in a thoughtful pose. "But then it would be awkward to actually write down a code outlining standard procedures for this little drug ring you're running, wouldn't it?"

When most of the group shifted in surprise, Jim gave an exaggerated gasp before he momentarily covered his hand with his mouth. "Oh dear. Seems I've let the secret out, haven't I?"

For a moment a hush pervaded the room.

"None of us have to listen to such patently false and heinous accusations from the likes of you," De Quincy said, her normally smug face twisted in a vicious expression.

Miller raised one of his hands slightly, the exact way he did in his classroom to call chattering students to attention. De Quincy scowled but fell silent.

"Jim, I don't know what's happened to you. But from the odd things you're saying it seems clear to me you're not at all well. Not only did you fail to turn up to work when you were expected, something I'm quite sure a conscientious young man like you would never have done before today, but now you're spouting absurdly provocative claims." Miller sighed as if disappointed and worried both. "I can only assume you've been under a strain that has somehow misled you to form false conclusions. Unfortunate though such a thing would be, I'd far rather believe that's the case than imagine you throwing out outrageous accusations for a lark."

Miller briefly glanced over his shoulder at Cooper, who hadn't budged an inch from his pose: meaty arms crossed in front of his barrel chest and thick thighs spread arrogantly. "Whatever your particular problems are right now, under the circumstances I think it's for the best if Mr Cooper sees you home tonight."

As Miller resumed regarding him with a mix of steely determination and false concern, Cooper joined in with his beady eyes narrowed on Jim.

Jim sighed. He absolutely hated it when ordinary people thought they could mask their crudely obvious intentions with amateurish play-acting. "I suppose it's true that I haven't been feeling like myself of late," he said at last into the quiet, momentarily shifting his gaze to stare at his shoes.

"Of course you haven't," Miller said soothingly. His voice gained confidence as he went on, his words increasingly gentle. "Cooper will help get you home, and you can take the rest of the night to calm yourself. Then tomorrow, if you report to my classroom thirty minutes early, we'll take the time to sort out all the details of what was an obviously necessary absence today."

Jim gulped and nodded, looking abashed. But just as some of them appeared to relax slightly, easing tightly furled fists or letting out surreptitiously held breaths, he shook his head and laughed aloud. "Oh, wouldn't you all just adore that? Me leaving with your bulldog Cooper to get my pretty little head bashed in like a broken eggshell? That way you could easily continue these naughty little shenanigans with your homemade concoctions undeterred. Problem is, I'm rather attached to my head." He smoothed his hair and smiled winsomely before he let his grin grow into something far more predatory. "Besides, I actually haven't any problem with you imbeciles keeping on with your shenanigans. But things can't continue on as they have been, obviously. For starters, you'll all be working for me from now on."

"Is he serious?" Flanders asked, her calm voice threaded with an edge of harshness.

The group of them had tensed once more. Jim noted how Cooper's hand strayed to his side, twitching for something concealed at the back waist of his trousers. Just catching a glimpse of the gun metal glinting above his cheap leatherette cardboard belt made Jim roll his eyes.

"Let's see, where shall we start?" Jim asked, his eyes wide, beginning a slow stroll around their awkwardly circled chairs. He made sure to pause behind Cooper, who stilled and slowly moved his arm back where it had been before. "Maybe with how you lot managed to launch and maintain a drug ring, supplying the youth of this fine community, many of them former or even current students, with illegal substances? Or should we focus on the miraculous way you succeeded in fattening your purses without getting caught out by authorities or shaken down by a far more powerful outfit? For a group of arrogant idiots who bumbled onto a goldmine without a clue as to how to run it long term, you've done quite well for yourselves." He shook his head at them with a counterfeited fondness as if they were a group of charming little toddlers who had come up with something unexpectedly clever. "Really, I almost think the first order of business after I accept the reins of this sorry little operation is to hand round commendations, don't you? Or at the very least give out gold stars!" He stooped slightly, rounding his shoulders to put his hands on his knees as if bending down to exclaim praises to a group of children. "How would all of you like that?"

The nurse got to her feet, the glower on her face making her screwed up features even uglier. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, Mr Moriarty. Taking aim at those who could easily end your career before it's properly begun isn't wise. I suppose you're compromised, in some sort of trouble and quite desperate to dig yourself out however you can. But since you seem to be unaware of it, let me tell you bandying about serious accusations like these just to distract from your own mistakes, whatever they might be, will most assuredly backfire."

"Will it?" he asked, tapping his lower lip with his forefinger as if considering her words. "Hmm, I don't think so, actually. Because while the group of you have been enlisting the school bullies as your runners in this venture, using equipment pilfered from the sciences department to whip up solutions that are anything but, as they say, street legal, and gleefully counting out neat little piles of notes to secret away behind the wall in the custodial cupboard -- oh, did you imagine I hadn't sussed out your hiding place? -- I've been following your tracks very closely indeed, gathering enough evidence to make your simple little heads spin."

At the mention of the money stashed in the custodial cupboard, Cooper's sluggishly mulish expression for the first time changed to something that approached alarm. His dull-eyed gaze snapped to Miller as if watching agitatedly for a signal for what to do next.

"Even if you really believed that these ugly claims were true, you're still talking a load of shit," Flanders said fiercely. She ignored Jim's elated grin (he did so love it when those who fancied themselves imperturbable lost their tempers). "Whatever you think you know, you obviously haven't a jot of proof --"

"Don't I, though?" Jim snapped his fingers and Sebastian eased into the room, carrying a stack of slim folders. Without further instruction, he handed them round to the teachers sitting tensely in their seats, ignoring their glares and blanches at this newcomer before giving the last of the lot to the still-standing Miller.

Hesitantly, one of them opened a folder to examine the sheaf of papers inside. Another soon followed suit.

A moment later, the group exploded, talking over each other with angry invectives and accusations.

"Which one of you bastards thought you could just turn the rest of us in?" Cooper shouted.

"Who let this fucking poof get his hands on our files?" De Quincy demanded in fury. "There's absolutely no way he could have found these things out on his own."

Flanders clutched the large ledger to her chest protectively. "He's obviously been breaking into our computers, and listening in at closed doors, but he must have had help! Because who is he? I mean, he's nobody --"

"Christ, Christ, he knows all about it," Perkins blurted frantically, her voice full of dread. "What's going to happen now?"

"If you think you can just turn us in," Flanders sputtered directly to Jim, now brandishing the ledger before her as if it was a protective shield.

"Turn you in? I'd never!" Jim exclaimed with his features properly aghast at the prospect. "Besides, didn't I say I'd be running the show from now on? Honestly, I should think you'd be glad of it! If you want to grow this little business to its fullest potential, you'll soon be able to see the advantages of my little takeover, hostile though it might be." He winked at the rest when he saw Perkins let her head drop into her hands in evident despair.

"You, take over?" Miller asked, his voice flat.

The others ceased their fretful muttering for a moment and turned to look to him with varying degrees of hopeful expectation on their faces. It was absurd, really, how much they let on that they'd be entirely lost in this venture if Miller wasn't in charge.

"Even if you think you've gathered evidence enough to hurt us and leave a hole to worm yourself into, how do you propose to do such a thing? You'll run into a great deal of trouble when you come up against the protection and back-up we have in place. Ah," he added with satisfaction when Jim frowned at the last bit. "Your lucky stint at digging up information wouldn't have uncovered that, now, would it?"

De Quincy let out a triumphant little snort at Miller's disdainful words. Though Flanders remained on guard, her teeth clenched, Perkins looked rather pathetically relieved at this turn of events and went so far as to join in with a titter. Even Peter Cooper let out an ugly heavy chuckle.

Jim tilted his head from side to side, grimacing a little in reaction. "Well, you might think it wouldn't have. But it really did. You sorted things out with a fellow by the name of Neil Cooper, eh?"

Fran Perkins paled while that poor thug Peter Cooper sat stunned, his heavy jaw fallen open.

"Funny little outfit he has going, or should I say had going," Jim continued as he strolled further away from Cooper to the other side of their sorry misshapen circle of chairs.

At the other side of the room, Sebastian slouched against the wall. From the way the rest of them had their eyes glued to Jim, at least a few of them had forgotten his presence for the moment.

"Oh, they weren't bad in their way," Jim went on, "Plenty of good old-fashioned direct threats and violence; I go a different route myself, but who doesn't love the classics? But Neil didn't hand over nearly enough remuneration for his crew. If I told you the offers I made to the ones I fancied keeping round, you wouldn't be surprised at all how readily they jumped ship to my team, bringing some lovely information along with them. Still, I've found a place for Neil to thank him for a favor, just as I'll find places for all of you if you're clever enough to play nice."

When Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Jim swerved his focus to him. The thick-set fool actually cringed, but Jim dismissed his openly fearful posture with a flippant gesture. "Yes, yes, you needn't cower so. I've already found out he's your cousin, obviously. There's no other way this group would have let the likes of you in on the largesse from their clever plan had you not come equipped with something like this to offer!"

He openly regarded the lot of them with a sneer. "Certainly there's no other way the rest of you might have contacted someone so resourceful and found themselves with an ally instead of an invader. It ought to have been a delightful arrangement for everyone concerned. But as it happens, your Neil and I have a friend in common, and that's drawn us rather close together. Well, when I say friend," Jim paused, shrugging. "Anyway, it's why he's still involved instead of --" He made a playful slashing motion at his throat. "Shame it had to happen this way at all, isn't it? Family should come first, I know! But here we are."

Their composure eroded even more, a few of them slumping or shooting worried glances at Miller.

"So we're to take this all on your word, are we?" Miller spat at him, the rage building inside just barely banked. His eyes narrowed and shifted to Cooper almost imperceptibly, and he gave the subtlest of nods.

Jim gave a giddy shake of his head when Cooper reached for his gun. "Oh, no you don't, thicky!"

Sebastian had already stepped up silently, and now he confiscated Cooper's gun and discharged the chamber. He pocketed the magazine and kicked the gun out of the way under the large teacher's desk at the front of the room. His fingers flexed the slightest amount, but Jim raised an eyebrow and he stilled. The message was clear: don't draw your own gun yet; don't call the snipers into play just now. Wait for my signal.

Instead, Sebastian abruptly yanked Cooper back in a headlock, tipping him precariously on the back two legs of his chair and, judging by the way the fool slowly began to turn red, gradually cutting off his air supply.

"Everyone's always forgetting Sebastian," Jim told Fran Perkins sadly when she gasped at the display. "It's what makes him so useful to me, but it must be rather discouraging to him all the same, don't you think? I imagine it can feel a bit lonely, being so underestimated."

Cooper made an utterly pathetic whimpering sound. Some of the ugly splotches on his ruddy face had already begun to purple.

"Well, there's your local enforcer down for the count," Jim told the rest of them. "And now Cooper -- the proper one, I mean, not this imbecile -- and his gang are out of it. Ready to make a deal?" He spread his arms out and grinned. "Go ahead: start offering me ridiculous things out of pure desperation!"

With a quick move that Jim spied out of the corner of his eye, Miller rushed to grab Jim, tugging him back with a surprisingly strong arm wrapped around his torso, trapping both of Jim's arms in the process. Jim went still and then slightly limp as if in shock, leaning against Miller's chin digging into the back of his head.

"I find I don't have the patience to listen to you natter on anymore," Miller said, breathing heavily.

"Aww, and here I thought you enjoyed all of our little chats," Jim replied breathlessly. "So what now? You're just going to hold me still? Do you think your bit of rough can take out my man and then hustle me off to do me in?"

"No. That option went off the table a while ago." There was a click of a safety being released and Miller pressed a gun against Jim's temple.

Just that cold steely touch was enough to tell Jim he felt the mouth of the gun directly on him, no silencer. He suppressed a sigh at being forced to deal with such rank amateurs, and instead exclaimed, "Well, would you look at that? There's a bit of spirit in you yet! Willing to get your hands dirty after all?"

The shocked faces of the others told him plainly this sort of maneuver had never been in their shared play book. Flanders and De Quincy looked genuinely stunned, while Perkins, the little moron, began snuffling like a child. Jim had already guessed Miller had been keeping more than just his ownership of a pistol from the rest of them; it would be such fun if a few of these dolts were just now realizing the same thing.

"Call off your friend," Miller said coldly.

Across the room, Sebastian made a show of setting Cooper's chair fully onto the floor and relinquishing his hold. Despite letting go, he didn't back away entirely; instead he retreated to a stride away from Cooper. The flare of his nostrils at Jim plainly communicated what he thought: now was the time to show the force of snipers they had at the ready by revealing their sights on everyone present. When the corners of Jim's lips twitched down in refusal, Sebastian's right shoulder tightened. Obviously he didn't like how this was unfolding. Well, that was too fucking bad, because Jim was still the one in control, and he had a card or two left he wanted to play.

"Bill, no," De Quincy said sharply. "It's one thing to have Cooper -- but you -- and on school grounds, where anyone could hear the gunshot and find all of us quickly. I don't think --"

"Oh, it's fine for me to take the little ponce away and kill him, is it?" Cooper interrupted, disgruntled and huffy now that he could breathe once more. Jim would lay good money on the odds he had probably only just caught up to what was happening. "But Bill might have to shoot someone and straight away everyone says, oh, no, he mustn't!"

"Don't think," Miller snapped at Flanders (entirely ignoring Cooper, who slumped in a resentful posture). "You're not the one in charge here."

"Like I keep telling you all, I'm the one in charge," Jim interrupted.

"You don't look it," De Quincy said flatly, nodding to the gun trained on Jim's temple.

"Yes, well, looks can be deceiving," Jim said, rolling his eyes.

When the door suddenly banged open again, a few of them jumped. The gun slid slightly on Jim's temple and then righted itself; quite lucky for Jim, he thought abstractly, that Miller wasn't quite so easily startled as the rest.

Then, in perhaps the biggest surprise that Jim could have imagined, John Watson skidded into the room, breathing hard.

*~*~*~*~* Chapter Nine *~*~*~*~*


( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 8th, 2014 12:58 am (UTC)
Well, that was all kinds of exciting. I was really enjoying Moriarty dressing down these criminal master minds all over the place. He really did have all his ducks in a row and even when they seemed to have the upper hand, those snipers were waiting in the wings to show them they really never had a hand at all.

of course John had to run to the rescue of the guy that doesn't need rescuing, Ever. It's kind of cute. Well, it will be cute if he doesn't get himself shot.

if John turns out to be an undercover police officer who has been casing this drug ring and Moriaty), I am going to be grinning like a maniac.
Apr. 8th, 2014 02:53 am (UTC)
Glad you found it exciting! Aha, yes, not the best time for John to happen on the scene. Thanks!
Apr. 12th, 2014 07:57 pm (UTC)
It's actually hilarious just how outraged Jim is by how rank amateur the drug ring in, it's like it offends him at the same time as it provides him with loads of scope to plot, plan and play.

Oh hell, John, somehow I should have been expecting that, but I wasn't.
Apr. 13th, 2014 12:05 pm (UTC)
Haha, I'm so glad you liked that bit! And it's great that you were surprised by John's appearance. Thank you!
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )


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