< It's Christmastime in the city ... >

[precisionfocus]

"James!" Sebastian called as he shut the penthouse door. "Can't snag the manual lock right now." The electronic lock, at least, clicked as the heavy door shut behind him. Fingerprint scan, voice recognition, electronic access card, and physical key. His first impression of the expansive flat James Moriarty owned had been that its owner was highly paranoid. "We're having steaks," he announced as he carried his several bags of groceries to the kitchen. "Or I am. You can order in, but that's what I'm making. What you get for not giving me any grocery list when I asked."

He was used to talking to himself. James often either left without telling him or barricaded himself in his study for his work or else just decided not to answer. If it were one of the first two, James would see and hear it when he reviewed the security tapes. Sebastian put away the food he had bought, and he heard the manual lock turn and click.

James was in the penthouse, at the very least.

December first meant he had worked for James Moriarty for seven months. He had lived with him for six months. The last week of last April had found his cellphone ringing. The voice on the phone had confirmed he was Sebastian Moran and set up an appointment to meet with him the next day. Shady as Hell, but an Army vet trying to make ends meet and no income save his pension could not afford to ask too many questions. But James's business proposal had been entirely satisfactory.

As Sebastian left the kitchen, he heard a quiet sound he had previously dismissed as coming from outside increase. Now, he heard it specifically from the concealed speakers that littered the penthouse. 'With the dawn of redeeming grace...'

"Christmas?"

Of course, he knew the holiday was fast approaching. His mother had called him just this morning, asking if his employer would give him Christmas off. She had encouraged him to ask. If he was free, she insisted he try and bring James to meet the family. She had no idea that James was both the 'James' he spoke highly of and implied he was in a relationship with and the 'Mister Moore' he worked for. From 'Moore' to 'Moriarty' was a small step, but it was enough to make the alias effective. He had also passed a few pounds to a charity. Still, he had not expected this man to acknowledge the holiday, let alone play traditional, religious Christmas music in his home.

"Lovely recording of the song, though."

Comments

[sooochangeable]

Christmas was probably the holiday highest on the list of ones no one would ever expect an overlord of the criminal universe to celebrate. Why would any one? When one thought of evil, it was generally an image of a thin, cruel looking man swathed in black with a cat or bird of some kind close to them as they both stared menacingly from the shadows.

James Moriarty seldom did what was expected. Especially that which was expected of him.

He'd been awake for three solid days forming an overly cunning plan for someone to tunnel into a bank vault and steal two point one million pounds from under the London Bank. It was - to be frank - a stupid idea. But James was promised some very lucrative connections for his troubles if his plan succeeded. Not to mention half the amount of what the robbers would be stealing.

But it would have to be absolutely fool-proof, no muss no fuss. Which explained his obsession with detail with this one.

Once he heard Sebastian come in, his eye flickered to the screen split up into countless smaller camera angles all over the house; upon detecting motion they would enlarge the specific camera feed. Very simple. Especially for 'Jim from IT'. Apparently he decided now would be a good time to take a break from his criminal consulting to walk about the house, breath a little and get right back to work.

He padded out of the heavy doored room, looking slightly disheveled from his normally kept self. A rumpled white-collared shirt, dark slacks and a half-undone tie was what was left of his previous ensemble. His shoes had been discarded on the second day in.

He did the latch up and went through his phone, habitually checking it every thirty minutes or so. It was when he saw the date on his phone that he smiled; one of his more genuine expressions for a change. A quick scrolling through his music and - voila. A recording of Silent Night began to play throughout the house.

He only just entered the kitchen area, still staring at his phone as Sebastian mumbled to himself before he bothered to respond.

"No. It's Yuletide. You know how I just adore paganism. Of course it's Christmas music." Dunce. His voice rang of disuse and he realized quickly that he was a bit peckish once he saw the steaks.