Fic: Only The Good Die Young (Sebastian Moran, Jim Moriarty, Sherlock[BBC])
Title: Only The Good Die Young
Author: mad_teagirl
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Character/Pairing: Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran, hints at Jim/Molly and Jim/Seb? maybe?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: FIX IT FIC! Set after the end of the roof scene in the Reichenbach Fall.
Beta: suchaprince
Disclaimer: Spoilers for "The Reichenbach Fall", obviously.
Only The Good Die Young
Sebastian watches the gun shot, watches Sherlock Holmes dive off the roof, and he watches John Watson repeat "no" over and over with his hands on the detective's arms and neck.
Sebastian watches all this. And in the commotion of paramedics and news teams he slips unnoticed to the roof of St. Bart's.
Jim still has a grin of manic glee on his face, made more disturbing by the pool of blood about him. It's plain for anyone to see that Jim Moriarty is very, very dead. Anyone but Sebastian, he's an excellent gambler and he knows a bluff when he sees one.
So he nudges Jim in the ribs with the toe of his shoe; or more accurately, jabs him with it, and Jim makes an indignant little hiss.
"Very clever, boss." Sebastian tells him "But there isn't anyone to enjoy your play acting anymore, so stop being a child and get up out of that corn syrup before you ruin your clothes."
Jim laughs and rubs the back of his head.
"I suppose it was all a bit overly dramatic. Mind you, not half as dramatic as Sherlock with that swan dive of his. I really had hoped for more from him, you'd think the man had never seen a squib or something," And Sebastian just sighs, rolls his eyes heavenward, pulls Jim to his feet, and helps him remove the remnants of shattered plastic gel packs from his hair. “I do have the most dreadful headache though, Seb darling.” Jim tells him, fluttering his eyelashes.
“That, genius, is because you had a minor explosive strapped to the back of your head. Now text Molly, she’s worried sick about you.”
“Of course, how silly of me” Jim pulls his mobile from his pocket, theatrically tapping away at it’s screen “Hello Kitten, Daddy is still alive, smiley face, less than three, send. There all fixed.”
“We should probably make ourselves scarce, it’s only a matter of time before we’ve got a whole mess of police up here, and you’re, you know supposed to be dead. So I imagine you walking around up here, being not dead, wouldn’t sit well.”
Jim frowns worrying slightly at the thumbnail of his left hand.
“I suppose we’ll need to relocate, I am dead after all. What are your thoughts on Paris, Seb?”
Jim grins, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking slightly on his heels.
“Molly would love Paris.” Sebastian agrees with a slight incline of his head. Jim laughs, linking his arm with Sebastian’s.
“Well then, my dear Colonel, let us take Miss Hooper to Paris!”
Before they leave Jim traces a smiley face into the puddle of congealing stage blood left on the roof.
Author: mad_teagirl
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Character/Pairing: Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran, hints at Jim/Molly and Jim/Seb? maybe?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: FIX IT FIC! Set after the end of the roof scene in the Reichenbach Fall.
Beta: suchaprince
Disclaimer: Spoilers for "The Reichenbach Fall", obviously.
Only The Good Die Young
Sebastian watches the gun shot, watches Sherlock Holmes dive off the roof, and he watches John Watson repeat "no" over and over with his hands on the detective's arms and neck.
Sebastian watches all this. And in the commotion of paramedics and news teams he slips unnoticed to the roof of St. Bart's.
Jim still has a grin of manic glee on his face, made more disturbing by the pool of blood about him. It's plain for anyone to see that Jim Moriarty is very, very dead. Anyone but Sebastian, he's an excellent gambler and he knows a bluff when he sees one.
So he nudges Jim in the ribs with the toe of his shoe; or more accurately, jabs him with it, and Jim makes an indignant little hiss.
"Very clever, boss." Sebastian tells him "But there isn't anyone to enjoy your play acting anymore, so stop being a child and get up out of that corn syrup before you ruin your clothes."
Jim laughs and rubs the back of his head.
"I suppose it was all a bit overly dramatic. Mind you, not half as dramatic as Sherlock with that swan dive of his. I really had hoped for more from him, you'd think the man had never seen a squib or something," And Sebastian just sighs, rolls his eyes heavenward, pulls Jim to his feet, and helps him remove the remnants of shattered plastic gel packs from his hair. “I do have the most dreadful headache though, Seb darling.” Jim tells him, fluttering his eyelashes.
“That, genius, is because you had a minor explosive strapped to the back of your head. Now text Molly, she’s worried sick about you.”
“Of course, how silly of me” Jim pulls his mobile from his pocket, theatrically tapping away at it’s screen “Hello Kitten, Daddy is still alive, smiley face, less than three, send. There all fixed.”
“We should probably make ourselves scarce, it’s only a matter of time before we’ve got a whole mess of police up here, and you’re, you know supposed to be dead. So I imagine you walking around up here, being not dead, wouldn’t sit well.”
Jim frowns worrying slightly at the thumbnail of his left hand.
“I suppose we’ll need to relocate, I am dead after all. What are your thoughts on Paris, Seb?”
Jim grins, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking slightly on his heels.
“Molly would love Paris.” Sebastian agrees with a slight incline of his head. Jim laughs, linking his arm with Sebastian’s.
“Well then, my dear Colonel, let us take Miss Hooper to Paris!”
Before they leave Jim traces a smiley face into the puddle of congealing stage blood left on the roof.