His face lit up at the mention of Sherlock’s own network, perfect! He looked at the dwindling pile with new hope, and dove right into the next file. John Clay, he looked like the man for the job, almost perfect. Sebastian’s agitation was becoming more clear in his voice, but Jim was too excited to deal with it, forgetting all about the guild he held.
“Genius, Seb. I should leave you to your own more often! John Clay, I think he’d fit well, what do you think?” He handed Sebastian the file, scanning the first page with curiosity.
Seb looked at the picture and grimaced.
A bit of a pretty boy, this Mr Clay.
“Were you just looking at the mugshot?” he sneered at Jim as he read his credentials.
Well, his past was empty, but not lacking.
In the way that an eraser leaves grey smudges around a sketch, this man had espionage oozing from him.
And that was just from this file.
“Take him on and integrate him into that Holmes Network.” he said, forgetting that he wasn’t top dog anymore, and upon realising it, he cursed.
Jim took Clay’s file back from Sebastian, flipping through the pages quickly. He definitely seemed the type for a bit of spy work, he hoped that he was competent enough to infiltrate Sherlock’s network quickly.
“And if I was?” He smirked, not even bothering to look up from the page to address Sebastian properly. “I’ll put together a basic identity for him and contact Mr. Clay in the morning.” He pulled out his phone, twiddling away at the keys, all sorts of ideas flowing.
( 1 month ago) · Apr 22,2012 → 14 notes
Tagged: #bastianmoran #//because it was just mentioned to tag in ooc chat so yes
Jim pretended not to hear Seb’s comment. He picked up the file and flipped through it quickly. He seemed well enough to add. Instead of being crumpled up, this file was neatly placed on the table.
“He’ll do. I really need someone a little bit on the spy side, someone to follow Sherlock about. Think there’s someone in this pile that isn’t too much of a meathead to sneak about? I’d love a double agent figure, just to mess with him a bit.” He laughed thinking about the possibilities. If he could intertwine his mole into Sherlock’s life, and then at the perfect moment-bang! He switches sides, having done Jim’s bidding all along, keeping Jim a step ahead of the detective.
Seb gave another distracted nod as he looked through the next file. “I’m sure there will be one in amongst the crap.” he said, emphasising the final ‘p’.
After a while, he said a no to the one in his hand and looked at the next. “Didn’t he already have a sort of spy-network-thing going on before you both died?” he said with a little more malice than he would usually allow himself.
His face lit up at the mention of Sherlock’s own network, perfect! He looked at the dwindling pile with new hope, and dove right into the next file. John Clay, he looked like the man for the job, almost perfect. Sebastian’s agitation was becoming more clear in his voice, but Jim was too excited to deal with it, forgetting all about the guild he held.
“Genius, Seb. I should leave you to your own more often! John Clay, I think he’d fit well, what do you think?” He handed Sebastian the file, scanning the first page with curiosity.
Jim frowned at his response, and took the file back. He crumpled it up into a ball, taking a shot with it at the cups, knocking one over. Exhaling, he slid down into the couch, pouting. He picked up the next file and tossed it into Seb’s lap without even looking at it. Taking…
Jim pretended not to hear Seb’s comment. He picked up the file and flipped through it quickly. He seemed well enough to add. Instead of being crumpled up, this file was neatly placed on the table.
“He’ll do. I really need someone a little bit on the spy side, someone to follow Sherlock about. Think there’s someone in this pile that isn’t too much of a meathead to sneak about? I’d love a double agent figure, just to mess with him a bit.” He laughed thinking about the possibilities. If he could intertwine his mole into Sherlock’s life, and then at the perfect moment-bang! He switches sides, having done Jim’s bidding all along, keeping Jim a step ahead of the detective.
He gestured to the cup of tea on the table in front of them, not wanting to give in and just give Sebastian the cup. Ignoring Seb’s comment, he flipped through the file in his hand. David Aaron, he didn’t look half bad. Used to be in the army, specialized with surveillance, he passed the papers to Seb, looking for his opinion on the man in question.
“He looks like what we’re looking for, what do you think? I’ve gone through a million already, I only want the best to work with my Seb.” He talked on carelessly, happy for some company, and trying his best not to notice Sebastian’s actions.
Seb kept his attitude neutral. Not overtly militaristic, or spiteful. Just here, doing as he was asked, no further questions. How could Jim expect anything else?
Seb looked at the page and scanned it for the vitalstatistics.
“Hmmm…” He chewed his cheek. “Bit of a thug with no neck… Would prefer if he could comprehend orders.”
Jim frowned at his response, and took the file back. He crumpled it up into a ball, taking a shot with it at the cups, knocking one over. Exhaling, he slid down into the couch, pouting. He picked up the next file and tossed it into Seb’s lap without even looking at it. Taking a sip of his tea, he watched Seb paw through the pages of this file.
“Fair enough, how about him? Lighten up Seb, you’re boring me.”
Everything was dwindling down in the world again, but not in Moriarty’s own. Sherlock is alive and public, his empire beginning to rebuild, and his web spinning round and round. He sprawled his papers around…
He gestured to the cup of tea on the table in front of them, not wanting to give in and just give Sebastian the cup. Ignoring Seb’s comment, he flipped through the file in his hand. David Aaron, he didn’t look half bad. Used to be in the army, specialized with surveillance, he passed the papers to Seb, looking for his opinion on the man in question.
“He looks like what we’re looking for, what do you think? I’ve gone through a million already, I only want the best to work with my Seb.” He talked on carelessly, happy for some company, and trying his best not to notice Sebastian’s actions.
Everything was dwindling down in the world again, but not in Moriarty’s own. Sherlock is alive and public, his empire beginning to rebuild, and his web spinning round and round. He sprawled his papers around him, in some sort of…
The door knocked abruptly, and Jim found himself panged with a moment of confusion. Why did Seb knock, he had his own key, he cou-…And then he remembered, it wasn’t three years ago, and as much as he hated to admit it, a lot had changed. Sebastian didn’t have a key because Jim was too busy coming back to life, he had left Sebastian behind, and had almost forgotten about him in the midst of his madness. Jim, you idiot. He rushed towards the door, stopping only to adjust his tie, making sure he looked presentable. He opened the door to find Seb doing the same actions Jim had just performed. He gave a grin, and waved Sebastian in. He set right off explaining, shuffling papers and moving things around.
“We’ve got an empire to rebuild Seb, and we need some new soldiers. Why don’t you give me a hand with choosing? Not to mention I’ve been at this all day, and it’s not particularly interesting.” He sat at the couch again, picking up a pile of papers and motioning for Seb to do the same. He offered a sheepish smile, “I made tea, if you want some.” He certainly wasn’t enjoying the wave of guilt that had just splashed over him, everything he had done since dropping back into Sebastian’ life seemed so off. He’d never show it though.
Everything was dwindling down in the world again, but not in Moriarty’s own. Sherlock is alive and public, his empire beginning to rebuild, and his web spinning round and round. He sprawled his papers around him, in some sort of order that would only make sense to Jim…
He leaned on the small kitchen counter, watching the tea boil, not particularly eager to continue shifting through papers. His phone buzzed again, and he took a quick glance at the message from Seb, not bothering to reply. It’d seemed like ages since he’d seen the sniper. His most recent memories of Seb were interesting for sure, rage among many other emotions, interesting indeed. Jim found himself grinning, wondering about how this instance would play out. The kettle whistled, and he poured both cups of tea, sitting back down on the couch. With a sigh he picked up the file on the first candidate. No, absolutely not. He crushed the paper into a ball and threw it into the pile with the tea cups.
Everything was dwindling down in the world again, but not in Moriarty’s own. Sherlock is alive and public, his empire beginning to rebuild, and his web spinning round and round. He sprawled his papers around him, in some sort of order that would only make sense to Jim himself. With his corporation back in his hands, he was almost sinking in the amount of work he had to do, not to mention recreate ties with everyone and watch Sherlock. The next cup of tea emptied and was discarded into a pile of empty cups. He looked over at the next piles of paper at hand, a list of people he might need in his employment, but not significant enough for Sherlock to seek them out for Jim. He decided with a quick thought that this task would be much less monotonous if Sebastian was here to look through the potential employees as well. He sent Seb a text, and set off on brewing another cup of tea, maybe two.
Paperwork is boring, come visit and help. -JM
