precisionfocus | < All that glitters... >

< All that glitters... >

"Please. Before you say anything. Let me guess."

He couldn't help the almost annoyed sigh he gave.

"Amateurish. Childish. Idiotic. Ill-planned. Boring."

He leaned against the doorframe as the man at his desk went through his small notebook.

"Have I missed any?"

It was a game, really. He hadn't meant for James to find that notebook. A hundred little ideas scribbled down, mostly the faults in the security systems of high class jewellery stores about. Nothing serious, but a few plans he'd put a decent amount of thought into. He didn't plan on doing it, but... it was something to keep him occupied on the nights when James didn't come home and he wasn't needed for a task. He was no great criminal mastermind. He knew that. He knew James well enough to know that. It was a hobby. And now he was going to be forced to listen to every idea picked apart, torn to shreds, then stripped to the bone.

Colonel Sebastian Moran waited for the inevitable.

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He taps his fingers against a page before sweeping the notebook from the desk and holding it above his head, as if that would give him a better angle at which to understand these plans. He does grasp them, and some of them weren't even that bad. Still, teasing Sebastian was a pass-time he relished. "Cliched. Worn-out and over-used come to mind as well," he grumbled, sounding irritated and tired. Which he was.

He peeks over at Sebastian and grins in a comical fashion before returning to look through his notebook. Next page, lick thumb, turn.

"Anything involving air-ducts in here Sebastian and I will hang you by your thumbs over that balcony, so help me." He sing-songs the last and pushes himself round and round in his chair.

This was why he locked the drawer he kept that notebook in. Not that locks stopped James Moriarty. Hell, it might have invited him.

But... Well. He knew this was coming. He sighed slightly, closing his eyes against the onslaught. Not as bad as it could be, he considered, but still. He nodded once or twice when he felt it appropriate, trying to just let the words roll off him.

"They're just... ideas. Nothing I'm going to do." He wasn't made for that lifestyle. He wasn't any good at those sorts of plans. He was the muscle, James the brains, but... Well. It was fun to think them up.

"No?" It didn't look like he quite bought that. "Looks to me you want to be a little more than an amateur jewel thief, Sebastian." He's lazy, bored. Trying to irritate his unflappable sniper into doing something against him. Maybe he wants to be punched. Or have an excuse to slide a knife between Sebastian's ribs.

He stops twirling in the chair to lean forward, his vision is blurry and keeps rocking back and forth but he stares steadily at Sebastian - ignoring the feeling of dizziness. Teeth are bared in a grin.

"And here I've caught you with your secret little diary. Whoops." An idea. "There anything about me in here?" And there he goes, carelessly flipping through the well-drawn in pages - looking for something about him as if Sebastian wrote his name down with hearts where the i's should be dotted.

'J+S= ♥'

As if. But wouldn't it be hilarious.

"Not even that. That would require me to try any of them." And he could just imagine the failure that would delight James. Hell, with his luck, James would orchestrate a failure, just to make fun of him. "I do what I'm told. That's what I was hired to do, and that's what I'll do."

He was used to orders, and he knew not to question them, knew not to strike out on his own.

As for something about James... he didn't answer. There were pages, usually small segments. Little notes, patterns of behaviours. Nothing extreme, nothing that would hurt James to have written. Nothing about his business or contacts, just patterns. Habits. Things a proper bodyguard would keep record of. Notes and reminders.

James huffed, "Good boy, good boy. Such a good boy. Don't be like that Sebastian. You're better than that. You have a brain, even if you're loath to use it," he flipped through the pages of the notebook one more time before tossing it at Sebastian.

"Pick one."

Time to play a game.

"Pick one?"

It sounded like a disaster. He knew better, knew that he was being led to a point beyond which nothing would come but laughter on James's part at his expense.

"For what?"

"Explain it to me. I want to know which is your favorite."

His hands folded across his stomach and he leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable.

"Really, it's not rocket science darling. Off you go."

Sebastian sighed and flipped through the book. So, so many that he already knew the flaws of. Notes where he'd considered them.

"Assuming the security cameras could be turned off, even for an hour, with no one noticing--" He paused, wanting to head off the main insult before it came, though he knew he'd still answer for it. "No, I don't know how I'd do that. Haven't... thought about it." He had a few ideas, but he wouldn't venture them now.

"But assuming I could-- have a piece of jewellery set aside, know the specific box it's in. No difficult task. Place other pieces of thin jewellery-- necklaces, bracelets, maybe a few of the smaller rings-- under the padding. Leave it. Go in the next day as a customer, buy the set aside jewellery. Perfectly honest business transaction. Walk out with the stolen pieces."

"Well you know what they say about assuming," he simpered with a grin and swirled around in the chair again.

If Sebastian was able to catch his face between the turns, he would see that James was blank - thinking. Probably about Sebastian's little hypothetical robbery. Why shouldn't it work? He'd funded worse. It could be fun to watch him fail too. Or succeed. He had to remind himself that Sebastian was smarter than the average bear.

Sebastian knew that smile.

Humiliation was imminent. Whatever James had in his mind, Sebastian knew it would not end well for him. Whether James laughed or dated him, the outcome remained similar.

After all, he doubted he could pull off anything like his plan. Well, really. He thought it was viable. It could be done.

But with James watching him? Waiting to point out every failure? Waiting to gloat? Waiting to remind him that his job did not require brilliance?

"Do you want dinner in? Or shall we go out?"

"Out. I have somewhere to be tonight."

James hadn't announced such a thing before now, so the plans to be 'somewhere' must have just come up. He stood from the seat - shockingly not wavering or stumbling along after spinning around so much - and paced out of the study. He gave no heed to his personal assassin as he went past, only storming into Sebastian's older and unused bedroom and flinging through the wardrobe. The most use the room got now was as closet space.

"You're going to wear something handsome tonight."

Clearly, there wasn't much choice in the matter. At least from James's side of tings.

"It does help if your bodyguard knows about these sorts of plans."

But it's genuinely teasing. Sebastian appears in the bedroom door a moment later, watching as his clothes are gone through. Most of them will be deemed unacceptable, his choice in casual wear questioned a hundred times over. James will complain about how such things could ever be allowed in his home. How mean he decided to get depended entirely upon his mood, but... Insults over clothing? One of many things that Sebastian Moran could let just roll off him.

"Does it now? Well, I'll make sure to put you right on the list after myself and the client." James rummages through Sebastian Moran's belongings and reminds himself to burn his shitty clothing. Honestly some of these things even have holes in them. Sebastian looked appealing enough in suits that James would change his entire wardrobe.

"I'll let you pick one of two, so as not to crush you with my keen fashion sense." And he sounds completely serious as he plucks a heather-gray two-piece suit from the closet and drapes it over the edge of his rarely-slept-in bed along with a dark red tie. It's not long before it's met by a black counter part with it's own black tie.

It's after he sets out shoes and suspenders - because...does he need a reason for Sebastian to wear suspenders? - that he grins, big and vibrant. It's in shocking contrast to how he normally smiles; vile and deadly like a spider looming over its pray. He looks as if he's genuinely excited for something now.

"We're meeting royalty."

Yes, some of his things have holes in them. They're for working on the cars. Or looking like he's slumming it. He might not be the actor James is, but he knows how to dress for his part, how to blend into a crowd based on where James needs him or when.

But he lets the man pick out the clothes. Surprise? More than evident on his face.

"Royalty?"

James clicked his tongue and sighed before muttering, "Don't be an idiot, Sebastian."

While that expression Sebastian held was sometimes enjoyable, James didn't care for it now. He didn't need to be surprised. James didn't require it of him, so it wasn't a desired reaction. He shook his head before sitting down in the small armchair catercorner against the walls, folding a leg over and pulling out his phone.

"So unbecoming."

"Indulge me, then--

What royalty are we seeing?"

Even as he's speaking, he's taking off his shirt, the cotton undershirt beneath it still perfectly acceptable for wearing under a nicer shirt, far as he's concerned.

After all, knowing James... 'Royalty' could be any list of things.

James smiles from where he sits, and his entire face lights up, a picture of pleased delight, if only his eyes would sparkle or shine or do anything besides blankly stare.

But his teeth shine bright and that might make up for it.

"The fairy-tale kind, darling."

When Sebastian removes his shirt, James can't - won't - bother stopping himself from running his eyes along the lines of his arms. The muscles contracting and expanding under the still slightly tanned skin and the scars to decorate them.

He makes a singularly appreciative noise before ducking his gaze back down to his phone.

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< All that glitters... >

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