A Life on Repeat, Ch.1
Jun. 2nd, 2012 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jdmcoolTitle: A Life On Repeat, Ch. 1
Pairing: Jim/Moran, Moriarty/Moran
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,844
Summary: Some things are destined to repeat throughout history, the lives of James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran are just two of them.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, unfortunately. Written for this prompt at the SHKinkMeme.
Walking into the club, James Moriarty looked around at the various men, casually taking them all in, in search of a specific man he knew had to be somewhere amongst the crowd. Knew it because he had put the time and the effort into making sure that he was exactly where he needed to be exactly when the moment called for it like this one did.
Taking a seat, he let his eyes roam over the men around him, waiting for the familiar face of a man he had yet to even speak to. And when he found the man, sitting at a table with another, never really noticing that Moriarty had his eyes locked on him, James could’ve smiled.
It wasn’t just because of the fact that he was right, that was a rather given matter considering who he was. No, it was just the way the clueless man sat there at that table. Some sort of companion at his side looking every bit the good soldier Moriarty was certain he had been. Not at all like the man that Moriarty was drawn to.
Narrowing his eyes as he took in the mostly clean hands, if one was to ignore the smudge of gun powder on his right hand, he thought over whether or not this was the man he truly wanted. Bright enough with the sort of cold, calculating eyes that had to unsettle the average person who found themselves caught under such a gaze.
Another grand difference between him and the average person. Because the moment the man took notice of him, eyes glaring with wariness and curiosity, he merely leaned back in his chair, lifted his head slightly and smiled.
Nothing more than a subtle challenge to test the man and when he turned to the man sent his friend away and looked back at him with an arched brow, he knew his challenge had been accepted.
Shaking his head, Jim rubbed at his eyes before looking back at the computer screen with a frown. Packing up his things, he decided that he had done enough for the day. Had to have done enough if he was so tired that those dreams were starting to creep up on him again. And as the only one around to suffer through them, he just had to know when to call it quits.
It was like a madness alarm clock in that way, always popping up when his mind wandered just enough. And really, he didn’t mind it at all. As far as madnesses went, it was actually a pretty decent one, since he knew that’s what the dreams meant. Even from such a young age, he understood how ridiculous it would sound to tell another soul about the fact that he had dreams where he was some Victorian professor, who just happened to be him.
Taking one last glance at his screen, he turned it off before heading to continue about his day. The lingering sensation of something being just out of reach didn’t leave him, though, and for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to shake the idea of that man in the club. It was the same sort of feeling he got the day he decided to kill Carl Powers, like some master plan was falling into place like it was meant to.
“Move.”
It was the only thing Jim heard as the man pushed past him one the crowded sidewalk. Turning to glare at the man, he took in the casual way he was walking, if not for the quickened pace. He was thin, mindful of nothing more than the bag at his side. Sneering, Jim decided that it wasn’t even worth his time. He could easily let the slight slide. At least until the man glanced back at him, a questioning look written all over his face as he continued on his way.
In that moment a flash of that other life made him smile as he decided to carefully follow after the man as another piece seemed to fall into place.
Tilting his head to the side slightly as he took in the man across from him, he smiled. It was clear that it wasn’t the sort of action that the other was expecting, but Moriarty wanted to be caught off guard. Keep him on his edge, as it were.
“May I help you?” He questioned calmly.
The man narrowed his dark brown eyes. “You’ve been following me for days.”
“Fascinating. I would’ve taken you to be more observant than that.”
The man shook his head. “Oh I’ve noticed the people you’ve had watching me for the past few weeks, but it was less than a week ago you started following me personally.”
Pleased, Moriarty nodded. “I’m Professor James Moriarty.”
“Pleasure, I’m sure,” the man interrupted with a small roll of his eyes.
Tilting his head slightly in surprise, Moriarty tried to suppress the feeling of indignity. After all, there weren’t many of men bold enough to take such an attitude with him and those that did rarely lived to tell about such a fact.
“And I know all about you.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes and I must say, you are a rather interesting man.”
The brunette snorted, lips turning upward ever so slightly. The other man wasn’t amused, but he was definitely impressed, which made two of them in that moment.
Leaning back in his chair, the man nodded at him. “So you’re interested in me then?”
Mouth open to reply, Moriarty took in the casual pose of the man, that brow that was lifted just a hair higher than the other. An obvious trap to lure him in and make him confess his reasoning behind the impromptu meeting. And, of course, it simply wouldn’t do to ignore it, so instead, he played right into the man’s hand.
“Very interested, in fact. A bright man like you could prove to be usual.”
“Right, help keep those wayward students in line.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Moriarty agreed.
And when the other looked him over carefully, sizing him up as the case would have it, Moriarty could tell that he had won the other over. Certainly he might not admit to such a thing, but that wasn’t necessary. Not when he knew that he could leave at any moment, sure in the knowledge that the man across from him would find him, if he didn’t follow him out right.
Jim blinked furiously as the taxi came to a stop. Frowning, he paid the man with a smile befWalking into the pub, he glanced around, half expecting to see the object of his obsession seated with some soldier. But he knew how to keep the dreams from driving him to the very edge of sanity by filling him with expectations that had no place in the real world.
Not to mention that the man didn’t even look the part to be sitting around some club with anyone. A voice in the back of his mind whispered that his hair was too unkempt for a club anyways and Jim had to stifle a small chuckled as he made his way over to him.
“Mind if I join you?” Jim asked the man at the table.
Looking up, the guy merely glared, which Jim figured was about as much of a yes as he was likely to get from him anyways. Strong silent type and all that, really boring and not his usual thing, but he was after something. So, without giving the other a chance to tell him to sod off, he sat down and just smiled as the man went back to staring at his drink.
Honestly, he couldn’t help himself. Sure, he’d only had his men looking for the man for a good week or two, but something about sitting there with him made him feel like he’d been waiting for ages for such a meeting with the man. A feeling that was worth more of his focus than the urge to grip the man’s still dark hair and make him stop trying to ignore his presence.
“Look here, I’m flattered, really, but hardly interested in anything you have to offer. So why don’t you just piss off?”
Jim’s lips parted in awe. Clearing his throat a bit too loudly, he shook his head. Shook his head and chuckled to himself about how perfect it all was. Far better than any dream.
Leaning closer to the other, reveling in the wary look it got him, he said, “Right, well, see… I can’t do that.”
“Really? I think you’re not trying hard enough.”
“Really, because this,” Jim said gesturing between them before letting his hand drift off to gesture around the entire pub, “All of this, is meant to happen. Destined, even. If you believe in that. And you probably don’t. I know I don’t, but…”
He sighed as he shook his head. It seemed so insane to say it out loud and he knew that the man across from him clearly agreed because it was. It was insane and improbable, but very real and definitely in the process of happening if the usual sense of gut wrenching perfection was anything to go by.
Reaching out, he grabbed the man’s jaw, tired of the drink getting more attention than him. His troubles got his hand swiftly wrenched away and held in the bruising grip of the man. That and the attention he desperately sought.
“Can’t you just feel it? I mean, it’s a weird sort of feeling that makes you dread everything and do anything to keep it going? I know you feel that.”
“You’re a bit nutters, aren’t you?”
“A bit.”
Heaving a sigh, the man let go of his wrist and went back to focusing on that damn bottle, as though it held all the answers. “Drink’ll do that to you.”
Jim made a face at that. With more venom than intended, he said, “I haven’t been drinking.”
“Talking to myself that time. Figured it’d have to be the drink making your ramblings make sense.”
Catching the hard look in the other’s eyes and seeing the sense of knowing there, Jim grinned like an idiot. Rocking back and forth a bit from the effort it took to contain such a disgusting amount of sheer joy, he took a deep breath before just staring at the man.
The way he sat there like he’d just received the world’s worst news, tense and suspicious of everyone around. Calculating eyes that spoke of a certain mental prowess, even if it was only slightly better than te average idiot. The everyday, unassuming look that belied everything about him.
“I’m Jim Moriarty, by the way.”
“I assume there’s not much point in introducing myself, is there?”
Jim shrugged. “Not really, but I’d still like to hear you say it.”
Smirking at that, the man gulped down the rest of his drink before holding out his hand and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jim. I’m Colonel Sebastian Moran.”
Pairing: Jim/Moran, Moriarty/Moran
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,844
Summary: Some things are destined to repeat throughout history, the lives of James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran are just two of them.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, unfortunately. Written for this prompt at the SHKinkMeme.
Walking into the club, James Moriarty looked around at the various men, casually taking them all in, in search of a specific man he knew had to be somewhere amongst the crowd. Knew it because he had put the time and the effort into making sure that he was exactly where he needed to be exactly when the moment called for it like this one did.
Taking a seat, he let his eyes roam over the men around him, waiting for the familiar face of a man he had yet to even speak to. And when he found the man, sitting at a table with another, never really noticing that Moriarty had his eyes locked on him, James could’ve smiled.
It wasn’t just because of the fact that he was right, that was a rather given matter considering who he was. No, it was just the way the clueless man sat there at that table. Some sort of companion at his side looking every bit the good soldier Moriarty was certain he had been. Not at all like the man that Moriarty was drawn to.
Narrowing his eyes as he took in the mostly clean hands, if one was to ignore the smudge of gun powder on his right hand, he thought over whether or not this was the man he truly wanted. Bright enough with the sort of cold, calculating eyes that had to unsettle the average person who found themselves caught under such a gaze.
Another grand difference between him and the average person. Because the moment the man took notice of him, eyes glaring with wariness and curiosity, he merely leaned back in his chair, lifted his head slightly and smiled.
Nothing more than a subtle challenge to test the man and when he turned to the man sent his friend away and looked back at him with an arched brow, he knew his challenge had been accepted.
Shaking his head, Jim rubbed at his eyes before looking back at the computer screen with a frown. Packing up his things, he decided that he had done enough for the day. Had to have done enough if he was so tired that those dreams were starting to creep up on him again. And as the only one around to suffer through them, he just had to know when to call it quits.
It was like a madness alarm clock in that way, always popping up when his mind wandered just enough. And really, he didn’t mind it at all. As far as madnesses went, it was actually a pretty decent one, since he knew that’s what the dreams meant. Even from such a young age, he understood how ridiculous it would sound to tell another soul about the fact that he had dreams where he was some Victorian professor, who just happened to be him.
Taking one last glance at his screen, he turned it off before heading to continue about his day. The lingering sensation of something being just out of reach didn’t leave him, though, and for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to shake the idea of that man in the club. It was the same sort of feeling he got the day he decided to kill Carl Powers, like some master plan was falling into place like it was meant to.
“Move.”
It was the only thing Jim heard as the man pushed past him one the crowded sidewalk. Turning to glare at the man, he took in the casual way he was walking, if not for the quickened pace. He was thin, mindful of nothing more than the bag at his side. Sneering, Jim decided that it wasn’t even worth his time. He could easily let the slight slide. At least until the man glanced back at him, a questioning look written all over his face as he continued on his way.
In that moment a flash of that other life made him smile as he decided to carefully follow after the man as another piece seemed to fall into place.
Tilting his head to the side slightly as he took in the man across from him, he smiled. It was clear that it wasn’t the sort of action that the other was expecting, but Moriarty wanted to be caught off guard. Keep him on his edge, as it were.
“May I help you?” He questioned calmly.
The man narrowed his dark brown eyes. “You’ve been following me for days.”
“Fascinating. I would’ve taken you to be more observant than that.”
The man shook his head. “Oh I’ve noticed the people you’ve had watching me for the past few weeks, but it was less than a week ago you started following me personally.”
Pleased, Moriarty nodded. “I’m Professor James Moriarty.”
“Pleasure, I’m sure,” the man interrupted with a small roll of his eyes.
Tilting his head slightly in surprise, Moriarty tried to suppress the feeling of indignity. After all, there weren’t many of men bold enough to take such an attitude with him and those that did rarely lived to tell about such a fact.
“And I know all about you.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes and I must say, you are a rather interesting man.”
The brunette snorted, lips turning upward ever so slightly. The other man wasn’t amused, but he was definitely impressed, which made two of them in that moment.
Leaning back in his chair, the man nodded at him. “So you’re interested in me then?”
Mouth open to reply, Moriarty took in the casual pose of the man, that brow that was lifted just a hair higher than the other. An obvious trap to lure him in and make him confess his reasoning behind the impromptu meeting. And, of course, it simply wouldn’t do to ignore it, so instead, he played right into the man’s hand.
“Very interested, in fact. A bright man like you could prove to be usual.”
“Right, help keep those wayward students in line.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Moriarty agreed.
And when the other looked him over carefully, sizing him up as the case would have it, Moriarty could tell that he had won the other over. Certainly he might not admit to such a thing, but that wasn’t necessary. Not when he knew that he could leave at any moment, sure in the knowledge that the man across from him would find him, if he didn’t follow him out right.
Jim blinked furiously as the taxi came to a stop. Frowning, he paid the man with a smile befWalking into the pub, he glanced around, half expecting to see the object of his obsession seated with some soldier. But he knew how to keep the dreams from driving him to the very edge of sanity by filling him with expectations that had no place in the real world.
Not to mention that the man didn’t even look the part to be sitting around some club with anyone. A voice in the back of his mind whispered that his hair was too unkempt for a club anyways and Jim had to stifle a small chuckled as he made his way over to him.
“Mind if I join you?” Jim asked the man at the table.
Looking up, the guy merely glared, which Jim figured was about as much of a yes as he was likely to get from him anyways. Strong silent type and all that, really boring and not his usual thing, but he was after something. So, without giving the other a chance to tell him to sod off, he sat down and just smiled as the man went back to staring at his drink.
Honestly, he couldn’t help himself. Sure, he’d only had his men looking for the man for a good week or two, but something about sitting there with him made him feel like he’d been waiting for ages for such a meeting with the man. A feeling that was worth more of his focus than the urge to grip the man’s still dark hair and make him stop trying to ignore his presence.
“Look here, I’m flattered, really, but hardly interested in anything you have to offer. So why don’t you just piss off?”
Jim’s lips parted in awe. Clearing his throat a bit too loudly, he shook his head. Shook his head and chuckled to himself about how perfect it all was. Far better than any dream.
Leaning closer to the other, reveling in the wary look it got him, he said, “Right, well, see… I can’t do that.”
“Really? I think you’re not trying hard enough.”
“Really, because this,” Jim said gesturing between them before letting his hand drift off to gesture around the entire pub, “All of this, is meant to happen. Destined, even. If you believe in that. And you probably don’t. I know I don’t, but…”
He sighed as he shook his head. It seemed so insane to say it out loud and he knew that the man across from him clearly agreed because it was. It was insane and improbable, but very real and definitely in the process of happening if the usual sense of gut wrenching perfection was anything to go by.
Reaching out, he grabbed the man’s jaw, tired of the drink getting more attention than him. His troubles got his hand swiftly wrenched away and held in the bruising grip of the man. That and the attention he desperately sought.
“Can’t you just feel it? I mean, it’s a weird sort of feeling that makes you dread everything and do anything to keep it going? I know you feel that.”
“You’re a bit nutters, aren’t you?”
“A bit.”
Heaving a sigh, the man let go of his wrist and went back to focusing on that damn bottle, as though it held all the answers. “Drink’ll do that to you.”
Jim made a face at that. With more venom than intended, he said, “I haven’t been drinking.”
“Talking to myself that time. Figured it’d have to be the drink making your ramblings make sense.”
Catching the hard look in the other’s eyes and seeing the sense of knowing there, Jim grinned like an idiot. Rocking back and forth a bit from the effort it took to contain such a disgusting amount of sheer joy, he took a deep breath before just staring at the man.
The way he sat there like he’d just received the world’s worst news, tense and suspicious of everyone around. Calculating eyes that spoke of a certain mental prowess, even if it was only slightly better than te average idiot. The everyday, unassuming look that belied everything about him.
“I’m Jim Moriarty, by the way.”
“I assume there’s not much point in introducing myself, is there?”
Jim shrugged. “Not really, but I’d still like to hear you say it.”
Smirking at that, the man gulped down the rest of his drink before holding out his hand and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jim. I’m Colonel Sebastian Moran.”
