Miss Molly Had A Dolly And It Was Sick, Sick, Sick. NC17 Explicit sex & violence Ch 3 part 1
COMPLETED as of today 16/10/12 UK date there folks...
CHAPTER 3 - LAST CHAPTER PART 1 of 2
CHAPTER 3 - LAST CHAPTER PART 2 of 2 HERE
This is a three chapter piece that runs along side the WIP 'A Complicated Life'.
For this one I wanted an extreme contrast between Sherlock and Johns relationship and the relationship between Moriarty and his man Moran. I also wanted to show quite how messed up Jim's head is. Often suicidal and a sadomasochistic he drifts between reality and his fantasies. I wanted to explore why he didn't kill Molly when he was planning to kill Mrs Hudson, John and Lestrade. I have also given Jim and Sebastian some back story and looked a little into Jim's possible family history. Some not Canon, but Conan-Doyle did not give me much to play with.
Hope no one takes insult to the ref the Jim's Irishness. My family are Irish on both sides so it seemed a natural thing to do.
I am not a writer, I write for myself really.
This starts off pretty gentle and ends pretty messy. Expect it all....flashbacks, fluff, BDSM, rape, incest, explicit sex, Teen Sex, Jim 'Ryan' i.e Jim from the Hospital, Jim Moriarty's fantasies, I tried to get a bit of everything in :D
The children's rhyme 'Miss Polly' in this case 'Miss Molly' has been bastardized for the last chapter.
Warnings for Violence, Explicit sex (some Non Con) constant swearing.
Pairings: Moran/Moriarty, Moriarty/Molly, Moriarty/other character, Sherlock/John implied, Moriarty/Sherlock implied, Moran/Watson implied
Summary:Jim's got a new job. This is what happened on Molly's three dates.
Exploring the totally f**ked up mind of Jim Moriarty.
I still feel a bit sorry for him though :)
Part 1
The glow from the bedside lamp made pretty patterns on her ceiling and Molly watched them dance as her father sat down on her bed. Although he was always a little tired, he always made a point of reading to her before she went to sleep. Her two older sisters were still watching TV, but as she was only four she went to bed before them. She didn’t mind though as only she got to share this special time with her father.
He was a tall man with a kind face, his hair dark and curly. Despite his job he always had a smile for everyone, whether it was one of sympathy for relatives of the deceased or beaming ones of joy for his girls.
“I have got something for you Molly I thought you would like” her father reached in his back pocket and pulled out a small book. He handed it to her. It showed a princess on a horse bending down to kiss a handsome knight. She smiled “Thank you Daddy” and hugged him with all her might, squashing her favourite ragdoll against his face in a kiss.
“The Pocket Book of Fairy Tales and Rhymes” he read as she held it. “Would you like me to read a rhyme? What about this one - I bet your dolly would like this one?” Molly nodded.
“Miss Polly”…let’s change it to…”Miss Molly” shall we?
Miss Molly had a dolly
Who was sick, sick, sick,
So she called for the doctor
To be quick, quick, quick;
The doctor came
With his bag and his hat, And he knocked at the door
With a rat-a-tat-tat.
He looked at the dolly
And he shook his head,
And he said "Miss Molly,Put it straight to bed.
He wrote out a paper For a pill, pill, pill,
I'll be back in the morning With the bill, bill, bill."
Molly treasured this moment for the rest of her life.
Sherlock Holmes did not always get everything right. He liked to think he did but he did not know everything. Particularly the details of how James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran became brothers in arms.
James’ mother had left his father when he was nine years old. Taking the ferry out of Dublin she had told him they were going to see family in London and they never went back. In Ireland they had been quite well off due to his father’s various ‘businesses’, namely supplying Arms to the IRA and a small amount of drug trafficking. In England he and his mother barely survived until she married Niall Monaghan and then James Moriarty’s life was hurled around like a sliotar. He became the object of his mother's drunken rages when she raved about his father and what a madman he had been. Then when she fell out with Niall he would take it out on Jim. Jim‘s form of escapism was knowledge. He threw himself wholly into his books. His School were astonished at all his hard work and he won a scholarship at a boarding school in Sussex. He only had to come home during alternate weekends and holidays. He was free.
James had liked his real father. He didn’t see him as often as a normal father would but he would bring him presents of books and puzzles for him to solve. He would sit with him at the kitchen table, he drinking his whisky and James drinking milk. He would tell him about the world and the amazing things in it. He was a stout, but handsome man with a head of thick black hair and the same dark eyes as Jim. He liked the way they would reflect the light like mirrors. The only time he would be angry at James was when he held dark smoke filled meetings around the table late at night. The room filled with gruff sounding men, coughing and drinking, and smoking endless cigarettes “JIM, GO BACK TO BED!”, he would shout as the boy would peek around the door. He never held him or told him he loved him, but he was a better father than Niall would ever be.
Sebastian Moran was a year older than James and despite being at the same school for nearly four years they had never even spoken to each other until the day James had a spot of bother whilst taking a shortcut across the Sports fields. You see the problem with excelling in Maths and Science and taking exams two years before your peers, was that you drew attention to yourself. Although James was a small kid for his age, his intelligence and comprehensive use of language often upset other pupils to the point that generally most of them wanted to either hurt or humiliate him.
Two boys stood over him kicking him as he lay faced down in the wet grass. Jim lay there and just took it, in fact he sounded liked he was laughing. When they realised that if they didn't stop they were going to do some serious damage, they turned to walk away; but they fell yelling in pain, each clutching at their leg.
“Oh God, what the fuck? someone bloody shot me” said one rolling around in pain.
Eventually after the shock and initial drama, the pair of them supported each other and hobbled towards the School. Jim still lay in the grass laughing - laughing till his bruised ribs were screaming in pain. It made him laugh even more.
“Come out, come out wherever you are?” He had managed to pull himself up on his feet and picked up his rucksack.
No answer.
“Thank you, Mr Whooo-ever. Are you going show yourself?
No answer.
“I’ll be going then...name’s Jim, Jim Moriarty, what’s yours?”
No answer
With that he started to limp back towards the School.
Jim sat in detention, he was writing out the schools motto one hundred times. He had tried to prove the Maths masters theory was completely wrong and the master had not taken kindly to being called a ‘stupid thick twat’. The only other boy in the room was a thickset tall, overly mature looking fifteen year old, sat two chairs in front of Jim and also writing out the Schools motto. Jim was staring at the back of his head, trying to will him to do something more interesting than just sit there.
The master left the room stating he would be back in a few minutes and disappeared into his quarters behind the classroom.
There was silence for a moment and without turning around the boy paused, put down his pen and spoke in low growl.
“It’s Sebastian…Moran”
“What? I’m sorry are you speaking to me?” Jim said sarcastically.
“You asked me my name. That’s it”
“That’s a very posh name for a boy that looks so ...well...ordinary” Jim drawled still starting at Morans neck.
“That’s a very dangerous thing to say for someone who gets the shit kicked out of them so much”.
Jim smirked but said nothing.
“Nothing to say?”
“Of course I have”
“What?”
"I think we need to talk” Jim smiled.
So it began, the boys who were shot with the airgun were pulled out of the School by their angry parents. Moran never got caught and with his help James survived the next year without being killed. Moran and Moriarty tolerated each other’s personality disorders and helped cultivate and nurture each other’s twisted minds. The twisted strands slowly became one thread.
One day Jim had wound Sebastian up so much he had punched him squarely in the face. Jim just stood there swaying, blood pissing out of his nose and running into his mouth. He laughed maniacally, his eyes never leaving Moran. Sebastian was hypnotised by the way they into bore into his own as though he was trying to get into his head. Jim was always taunting him for not being as clever and this felt like he was laughing at him. He roughly grabbed the other boy’s neck. He so wanted to squeeze his pale throat it until all the laughing ceased for good. Instead he pulled Jim towards him and crushed his mouth against his own. Jim retaliated by thrusting his tongue into Moran’s warm wet mouth tasting his own fresh blood. He liked it. There was no going back now.
When he was not with Moran, Moriarty filled his spare time with reading, piano, and swimming - often swimming competitions against other schools. Though after an incident with a boy called Carl Powers he did not swim again; it had all got a little tedious for him anyway.
Sebastian’s father was high up in the military and he was heading straight for the Army as soon as he was sixteen. Jim hit fifteen and left school after sitting his A Levels in Physics, Maths, Chemistry and Music.
Bigger things lay ahead of him now. Durham University first - get his degree, something to do whilst he made other plans. Networking and gathering contacts, he had begun to build himself a small underground business empire. He remained in touch with Moran and promised him that one day when he was ready, when it was big enough for two, he could have a piece of it.
Friday 30th March 2012
Molly Hooper had managed to come into work an hour earlier the next day on the premise of being able to leave an hour early that afternoon. She thought it might give her enough time to get home - shower, change and frantically attempt to ‘Nigella’ something up for Jims dinner when he came over at 8pm.
Tonight was a big night. She could not believe this was even happening. Here she was looking out the window with Alison, the girl who had taken Caroline’s job. They were watching a man pacing up and down in the car park below some five floors down. He was on his mobile, it looked like an important conversation, and he was frowning. This was the man she was making dinner for, Jim Ryan, and ‘Oh God’ didn’t he look sexy today.
“Oh Molly, he looks well fit” Alison pressed her forehead to the window and peered down at him. “Yeah he is, and he is so sweet, and he smells so nice” Molly giggled. He does this thing with his eyes, his eyelashes flutter, it’s kinda weird but so incredibly sexy” She hooked her arm in Alison’s and they turned to walk back into the canteen. Alison grinned, “Oh you have got it bad haven’t you. So is he staying over?”
Down below Jim Moriarty was taking a call and he was not impressed.
“So, Ms Adler, how did you get this number may I ask?” Jim paced the floor, trying to stay calm. Freaking out in the Hospital Car Park was not an option though right now he was pretty fucked off.
“Did he indeed? Well Mr Moran had no right to give it to anyone”. He stopped and turned towards the building and looking up, he caught a glimpse of two women at the window watching him - they turned and walked away.
“So what is it you want exactly....really, and you think I can do what?” he was so going to kill Sebastian when he saw him, sending him one of his fucking tarts to look after.
“Well, I am not sure what Mr Moran was thinking but I think you should sort this out yourself....what?...who?” Did she just say what he thought she said?
“I am so sorry do you mind repeating that?” His face dropped, he closed his eyes and took a long deep breath in.
“Mycroft Holmes. That’s what I thought you said. Well, Ms Adler you are in luck, I can help you after all. I will call you in two days” and with this he hit the ‘end call’ button. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t such a dumbfuck after all. Smiling he re-entered the building. He already had twenty jobs on his task list this morning and he had to get them all done before he left to go to Molly’s. Before that he had to get Sebastian to drop off some shoes to the basement flat of 221 Baker Street whilst good ‘ol Mrs Hudson was out.
“Why the shoes?” Sebastian questioned when he was driving Jim to Molly’s. It was a different car tonight, a Toyota. Equally as bad as the other one.
“My first gift to myself. Such a long time ago...” Jim said wistfully.
Moran didn’t ask, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I don’t want that Gollum bloke anywhere near me, he’s fucking creepy.”
Jim laughed “Yes, only a face a mother could love, and even then....he probably strangled her”
“I’ve got that bloke Petrov on the painting job. You know he says he knew your father. All I know is...”
“Sorry what?” Jim interrupted “he knew my father?”
“Uh, yeah, mentioned it, weapons I guess” at these words Jim’s face filled with anger and he snarled at Moran “Get rid of him, I don’t want him, I want him dead, just do it. I don’t want anyone working on this that even remotely knows who my father was, get the fuck rid. Moran looked surprised “You serious? Do you know how long it took..Oh fuck you Jim..”
“JUST DO IT!!!” He shouted so loudly it even took Moran by surprise “Okay, calm down, I will. We are here now, just calm down.” He pulled the car into the kerb a street away from Molly’s and turned to look at Moriarty.
“You okay now?”
Jim nodded sullenly “sorry”.
“I’ll sort it okay?”
“It’s just all getting to me a bit. So much to do, and everything has to be perfect you know? My little game. I might let you play too. Would you like that?
“Yeah, sure whatever Jim. Here you go” and with that he reached over into the back seat to pick up a cheap bunch of pink roses, and handed them to Jim.
“Oh Seb-ast-ian you reeaallly shouldn’t have, hah-ha” he chuckled.
“I thought pink was a bit more you than red roses” sneered Moran
“As long as my girlfriend likes them. Righto, off I go...don’t wait up dear...and if you kill anyone accidently whilst I am out, DO NOT call me”. He slammed the door shut before walking towards Molly’s flat. Moran watched him in the rear view mirror. Shaking his head he said “You're a clever bastard James Moriarty, but you are a fucking nutjob”. He slipped a cigarette into his mouth, lit it and then quietly drove away.
The suit Moran had picked for him was a medium blue £150 high street job. It didn’t look too bad, but its cut was uncomfortable and he hated the feel of it; it was making his teeth on edge. The quicker he could get out of it the better. He wore no tie and tried to look as relaxed as he could. He gradually slipped into Jim Ryan as he approached the flat, so by the time he rang the doorbell Jim Moriarty was nowhere to be seen.
The doorbell chimed a high pitched version of Greensleeves. He grimaced. He counted in his head one...two...three... the latch rattled on the other side. ‘Wow’ Molly must have nearly fallen over herself trying to get there that quickly. As the door opened, a cat shot out through the door and disappeared into the neighbours front garden. “Oh, Hi Toby....byeee Toby....” he laughed. Molly stood apprehensively behind the door biting her lip “Um, Hi!, come on in Jim” and Jim stepped through the threshold. Jim had heard there was a story that Vampires could only enter your house if you invited them in and the thought made him smile.
He handed the roses to her awkwardly and gave her a peck on the cheek. “For you...” Molly took the flowers and blushed. “Oh they are lovely, thank you”.
“Not as lovely as you, you look...really... wow...amazing!” She wore a simple black dress with her hair twisted into a pleat and dainty diamante earrings. The hem was cut at the thigh and showed off her long slender bare legs. Jim Moriarty was quite impressed. He was quite looking forward to this tonight after Molly had been so much fun to play with the evening before. Jim Ryan was of course nervous and clumsy as ever, tripping up over the hall carpet on the way to the lounge.
“You look lovely too, that suit really...well...Suits you” she laughed nervously. “Why don’t you have a sit down and I’ll get you a drink?”
Jim took off his suit jacket and threw it unceremoniously on the sofa, and followed Molly back out into the kitchen. “Only me...being nosey”. She stood barefoot at the cooker stirring a sauce, peering into it and not really knowing whether it was meant to be that colour or not. Jim came up behind her and placed his hands gently on her hips and looked over her shoulder. “Oh Jim, um...I am not really sure what I am doing. I think it’s ready please go and sit down and I will bring it.” she sounded a little irritated. “Oh sorry, I need the loo anyway, came to get my bag” he reached down to retrieve his bag from a stool next to the one person breakfast table. “Oh okay, won’t be long” Molly smiled uneasily.
Jim’s head was aching, and his arms felt as though the veins were writhing like snakes. He was determined to go through with this tonight but didn’t want to drink much. Jim Ryan’s persona was key to Molly introducing him to Sherlock so he had to keep this going for as long as he possibly could. He quickly shut the bathroom door behind him and searched for his pills in his bag. He would normally mix one valium and one vicodin at a time, but two vicodin and little booze would be perfect for the level of high he needed right now. He quickly downed the pills, took a quick piss and then returned to the hallway. He threw his bag down by Molly’s bedroom door. When he entered the lounge he found she had set a small table and two chairs that she had borrowed from the flat upstairs. On it was her best cutlery, napkins and a candle; she really was trying to be the perfect hostess this evening. Jim found it delightful.
“Aww, Molly this looks lovely. They sat and made small talk and Molly talked about her family and friends. Jim tried to steer the conversation to work and her special friend Sherlock Holmes.
“He nearly died you know, I didn’t find out till earlier. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”
“Oh my God, really, what happened?” Jim looked shocked his mouth open, fork paused half way to it.
Molly became very animated when she talked about Sherlock. Her eyes grew wide and she spoke to Jim about him as though Jim were another girl rather that the man sitting here waiting in prospect of taking her to bed.
“That gas explosion that was on the news. It was opposite his flat. He is okay though”
Jim smiled and giggled “Wow, he was lucky. Lucky old Sherlock eh?” Good job he thought or I would have no one to play with.
“He sent me a text earlier. He said he might need to use the lab tomorrow so you might get to meet him”.
“Oh really, that’s great, wow, a real detective” Jim smiled from ear to ear. At last.
The meal continued in light humour, with Jim telling rubbish jokes and Molly giggling far too much. He asked her lots of questions but never seemed answers hers.
She plucked up courage to ask him something that had been bothering her since they had met. “You know Jim, I can’t understand why you are single...I mean I know why I am on my own...but you” Jim tried to look awkward and bit his lip wincing. “Aww Molly, don’t”
She was looking for the right words without sounding too nosey “No, I mean, well, there must have been someone special...you know a girlfriend you really liked?”
Jim smiled gently putting down his knife and fork and reached for another glass of wine “well, there was once, in Ireland but it was a long time ago and she died...”
“Oh God, I am so sorry. I am so stupid I shouldn’t have asked”
“No, its okay, it wasn’t like cancer or anything” he winced again remembering how Molly had said her dad had suffered so much before he died. “Sorry Molly, I mean it, well...was drugs and stuff...she was a bit messed up, you know?”
There was a girl...Maire Moriarty. James Moriarty’s cousin, daughter of his father’s brother. She was something to behold. She was all long black ‘Coleen’ hair and dark brown eyes like Jim's, and a wicked, wicked smile that drove the neighbouring boys in her street insane. She was a one though, was Maire. She was two years younger than Jim but she was like most girls beyond her age. This is why Jim liked her, she was smart, a little bit crazy and always up for the craic. His mother and Niall took him over to Ireland during the time between leaving School and University to attend his uncles funereal. His own father had been dead three years now, cause unknown. Jim guessed he had upset a-lot of people over the years and he had got what was coming to him.
He had watched Maire at the funereal. For someone whose mother had died the year before and who had now lost her father to the drink, she did not seem at all upset. Not one tear was shed as she watched him be lowered into the grave, instead she watched Jim back with a smile on her face.
Back at the house the wake was in full swing. There had been an impromptu card game and whilst the men sat around losing their money to each other the women were getting as pissed as a rat’s arse. No one saw Jim slip a half bottle of whisky into his pocket and tip a nod to Maire on the stairs.
They stopped in the doorway to her room. She barred the way, arms outstretched across the frame. She whispered to him seductively licking her lips and looking like the young tart that she was. Her black eyes stared into his own.
“Well, Jim Moriarty, what are you, Sixteen now? “Jim nodded smiling. Not quite but he wasn’t going to correct her. “Well, did you know it is my fifteenth birthday tomorrow, and if I let you in my room you have to promise to give me a present...”
“Will this do?” he said bringing out the bottle from inside his suit jacket.
“That’ll do for now “she said taking it from him and leading him into the room.
They sat on the bed together, she in her short black dress with the hem hitched up around her thighs and he resting his head against the wall. It didn’t take them long to get through the whisky. They could not be gone for too long or someone would notice. They figured it would be a while yet though and they were enjoying each other’s company, although most of the time neither spoke. The whisky however, was making Jim a lot more relaxed and he wondered about her unemotional response to her father’s death.
“You’re not upset about your Da? Jim asked as he turned to look Maire in the face. He couldn’t keep his eyes of her bare legs and they were proving to be a distraction. He was trying desperately not to get a hard on, but was failing.
“Nah, he wasn’t me Da really, anyways. Me Mammy was always telling him that. He just put up with me after she died. He didn’t really give a shite what I did”. Jim reached out a hand to her face as she spoke and turned her head towards him. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but he kissed her full lips anyway, not really expecting her to respond. But she did, fully, deeply and with the enthusiasm that only teenage girls can muster. As she broke away from him to breathe she said “Jim Moriarty, you may be a smart arse but you still haven’t worked out what you are going to give me for my birthday”.
“No Maire?”he said smirking.
“You know I always thought you were you know, a gay-boy” she laughed quietly. Jim thought of Sebastian. “No, there is someone, but they are definitely not gay either” he laughed. “Glad to hear it” she said. She swung her leg over him and sat squarely on his lap and forced her mouth to his, grinding herself against him. There was no control in this and Jim felt uncomfortable. There was only one person who could control him in this way, so he grabbed Maire’s wrists and flipped her onto her back, changing the whole dynamics of the situation. Her pushed her legs apart with his hips and pinned her to the bed. She did not struggle. She did not get upset or ask him to stop. She stared into his eyes and smiling, she just said “Fuck me Jimmy”, and in a frantic teenage fumble he freed his stiff cock from his trousers. He pulled the crotch of her pants to one side and pushed himself inside her forcibly. “Happy fucking Birthday Maire” he chuckled into her ear. She gasped. When he let go of her wrists she clawed at his back like she wanted to tear him out of his skin and she pulled at his thick black hair. Jim was lost inside her. He had forgotten the people downstairs or any noise they may be making. He was just fucking her into the bed and that was all that mattered. She was like him, forgotten, fucked up, begging for attention, pain and comfort. He was near to cumming and he felt a pain in his head where the adrenaline was making his skull throb. He vaguely heard Maire shriek and he pulled out of her and away as he saw Niall and his mother standing at the bedroom door.
Niall was pissed and started yelling at Maire as Jim put himself back in his trousers and attempted to get off the bed.
“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing. Do’ya think we couldn’t hear y’?” He directed his rage at Maire, whilst Jim Mother stood holding her hand to her mouth hysterically screeching. “It’s your daddy’s fuckin’ wake, and you’re up here opening your legs for this little fecker. What the hell’s wrong wit’ cha?”. He stepped towards her with his hand raised in threat. Jim held Maire close to him protectively as she sobbed into his chest. There was no way he was going to let Niall hit her, he would kill him before he did that. His mother stepped towards Niall stilling him. She had gone now from hysterical screaming to a look of disgust and vehemence. She too started to wave a fist at the pair of them.
“James Moriarty, you are not my son, you are sick, do’yoos hear me? Sick...sick...sick in the head. Jus’ like yer father” She tapped her fist against her skull and shook it him once again. “He was like you, oh, all cleverness and charm. Guns and bombs and women. Just like your mother you little slut” She pointed her finger at Maire now. At the mention of her mother Maire looked up at her Aunt with wide wild eyes. Jim held her still looking confused, his mother had often compared him to his father but this was different. Maire was a trigger for a new kind of anger. He looked at her. What was she saying? She began to laugh and point at them both. Niall stood now with his arms folded and smiled knowingly.
“Oh, yes” she said shaking her head and poking her finger at them.”Did you never wonder why she looks so much like y’? So much like your daddy? She’s your feckin’ sister, you sick little shite. Your father charmed his way into her mother’s knickers not long after you were born.” Jim let go of Maire and stepped forward ready to smack the smug smile off his mother’s face, but Niall saw it coming and delivered a punch to his stomach.
The next five minutes went so fast Jim still cannot recall what really happened. He can remembering deafening screaming and shouts as both his mother and Maire tried to get him off Niall. He can remember the thrill as he knelt on the older man’s chest with his hands at his throat, squeezing the life out of him. He let him go, but not before the bastard was unconscious. Jim left the house amongst the chaos, took a bus to the Ferry point and came ‘home’. He collected his stuff and sought digs before his first term at University. He never saw his mother alive again and neither did he hear from Maire. He heard about her death when she was just twenty-two in a bedsit in Limerick where she had been turning tricks to feed her smack habit. He could have saved his sister, but maybe she was better off dead anyway.
“Oh Molly, I think I have eaten too much I am dy-iiing. I look pregnant… look”, Jim poked his belly out and patted it. Molly laughed heartily the wine was going to her head again, but at least she wasn’t drunk tonight.
“There was dessert, but I don’t think I could handle it. What are you doing?” Jim had left his chair and skipped to the stereo. Where he switched Molly’s depressing love songs to ‘Classical Romance’. Not exactly great but it would do. He held out a hand to her, bowing mockingly.
“May I have this dance Miss Molly Hooper?” Molly’s cheeks flushed and she took his hand. This was pretty weird dancing to ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in her lounge with a man she barely knew. Her mother would go nuts.
Jim was feeling genuinely awkward as he held Molly; she was so slight even up to him. He put his arms around her and held her close. He rested his head on her shoulder and put his face against her neck. She swayed side to side with him in silence her hands resting on his shoulder blades, her cheek against his.
What was this? Warmth. Comfort. This felt weird. Jim panicked and stepped back. He had to get hold of this situation. What the fuck was he doing? Enjoying this? He reached up to the back of Molly’s hair and gently pulled out the hair sticks keeping it in place and ran them along her back causing her to shiver. She looked at him a little surprised. He wasn’t smiling now, his eyes were boring into her own. She could feel her hands beginning to shake as she pulled him towards her…he cleared his voice and spoke.
“Let’s go to bed…I mean...I want to go to bed…with you Molly”. She gently took his hand and started to lead him to the hallway nervously. Jim let himself be led. He would try to be as submissive as he could without appearing like he had no clue as to what he was doing. This was going to be difficult, this acting lark. He was used to spits, snarls and sadism from Sebastian. As they reached the door he heard something. The bloody cat had made its way back through the cat flap. Jim looked back and pointed a two fingered gun at it. He mouthed the word ‘BANG!’’ and sneered. Toby meowed and ran into the lounge.
As he entered the room he noted that Molly had already turned back the covers on the bed and a soft glow came from a decorative table lamp and some very tasteless fluffy feather fairy lights strung across the foot of the bed.
Jim Ryan giggled at this “Oh look, that's so cute. It’s lovely Molly…come here” still holding her hand he pulled her towards him into a kiss. Molly’s nervousness was clear as after a few gentle pecks she pulled away. “Um, I need to…. you know, go to the little girl’s room I think” She smiled gesturing towards the bathroom. “Oh sure, okay, um, I’ll wait here” and Jim sat down on the edge of the bed. Molly quickly hurried out of the room and Jim could hear her pottering about and running water and presumably panicking about what was going to happen. Jim Moriarty poked about the table next to the bed which had various romantic literature on it; all well read, possibly library books or Molly’s favourites that she had re-read several times. One little book stood out from the others.
“A pocket book of fairy tales and rhymes” Jim read aloud. He opened the cover and read the inscription inside silently ‘To Molly, may you one day find your knight in shining armour; until then you will always be my little princess, Love Daddy x’. “Aww, Princess Molly” he said smiling. Not realising Molly was standing in the doorway watching.
CHAPTER 3 - LAST CHAPTER PART 1 of 2
CHAPTER 3 - LAST CHAPTER PART 2 of 2 HERE
This is a three chapter piece that runs along side the WIP 'A Complicated Life'.
For this one I wanted an extreme contrast between Sherlock and Johns relationship and the relationship between Moriarty and his man Moran. I also wanted to show quite how messed up Jim's head is. Often suicidal and a sadomasochistic he drifts between reality and his fantasies. I wanted to explore why he didn't kill Molly when he was planning to kill Mrs Hudson, John and Lestrade. I have also given Jim and Sebastian some back story and looked a little into Jim's possible family history. Some not Canon, but Conan-Doyle did not give me much to play with.
Hope no one takes insult to the ref the Jim's Irishness. My family are Irish on both sides so it seemed a natural thing to do.
I am not a writer, I write for myself really.
This starts off pretty gentle and ends pretty messy. Expect it all....flashbacks, fluff, BDSM, rape, incest, explicit sex, Teen Sex, Jim 'Ryan' i.e Jim from the Hospital, Jim Moriarty's fantasies, I tried to get a bit of everything in :D
The children's rhyme 'Miss Polly' in this case 'Miss Molly' has been bastardized for the last chapter.
Warnings for Violence, Explicit sex (some Non Con) constant swearing.
Pairings: Moran/Moriarty, Moriarty/Molly, Moriarty/other character, Sherlock/John implied, Moriarty/Sherlock implied, Moran/Watson implied
Summary:Jim's got a new job. This is what happened on Molly's three dates.
Exploring the totally f**ked up mind of Jim Moriarty.
I still feel a bit sorry for him though :)
Part 1
The glow from the bedside lamp made pretty patterns on her ceiling and Molly watched them dance as her father sat down on her bed. Although he was always a little tired, he always made a point of reading to her before she went to sleep. Her two older sisters were still watching TV, but as she was only four she went to bed before them. She didn’t mind though as only she got to share this special time with her father.
He was a tall man with a kind face, his hair dark and curly. Despite his job he always had a smile for everyone, whether it was one of sympathy for relatives of the deceased or beaming ones of joy for his girls.
“I have got something for you Molly I thought you would like” her father reached in his back pocket and pulled out a small book. He handed it to her. It showed a princess on a horse bending down to kiss a handsome knight. She smiled “Thank you Daddy” and hugged him with all her might, squashing her favourite ragdoll against his face in a kiss.
“The Pocket Book of Fairy Tales and Rhymes” he read as she held it. “Would you like me to read a rhyme? What about this one - I bet your dolly would like this one?” Molly nodded.
“Miss Polly”…let’s change it to…”Miss Molly” shall we?
Miss Molly had a dolly
Who was sick, sick, sick,
So she called for the doctor
To be quick, quick, quick;
The doctor came
With his bag and his hat, And he knocked at the door
With a rat-a-tat-tat.
He looked at the dolly
And he shook his head,
And he said "Miss Molly,Put it straight to bed.
He wrote out a paper For a pill, pill, pill,
I'll be back in the morning With the bill, bill, bill."
Molly treasured this moment for the rest of her life.
Sherlock Holmes did not always get everything right. He liked to think he did but he did not know everything. Particularly the details of how James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran became brothers in arms.
James’ mother had left his father when he was nine years old. Taking the ferry out of Dublin she had told him they were going to see family in London and they never went back. In Ireland they had been quite well off due to his father’s various ‘businesses’, namely supplying Arms to the IRA and a small amount of drug trafficking. In England he and his mother barely survived until she married Niall Monaghan and then James Moriarty’s life was hurled around like a sliotar. He became the object of his mother's drunken rages when she raved about his father and what a madman he had been. Then when she fell out with Niall he would take it out on Jim. Jim‘s form of escapism was knowledge. He threw himself wholly into his books. His School were astonished at all his hard work and he won a scholarship at a boarding school in Sussex. He only had to come home during alternate weekends and holidays. He was free.
James had liked his real father. He didn’t see him as often as a normal father would but he would bring him presents of books and puzzles for him to solve. He would sit with him at the kitchen table, he drinking his whisky and James drinking milk. He would tell him about the world and the amazing things in it. He was a stout, but handsome man with a head of thick black hair and the same dark eyes as Jim. He liked the way they would reflect the light like mirrors. The only time he would be angry at James was when he held dark smoke filled meetings around the table late at night. The room filled with gruff sounding men, coughing and drinking, and smoking endless cigarettes “JIM, GO BACK TO BED!”, he would shout as the boy would peek around the door. He never held him or told him he loved him, but he was a better father than Niall would ever be.
Sebastian Moran was a year older than James and despite being at the same school for nearly four years they had never even spoken to each other until the day James had a spot of bother whilst taking a shortcut across the Sports fields. You see the problem with excelling in Maths and Science and taking exams two years before your peers, was that you drew attention to yourself. Although James was a small kid for his age, his intelligence and comprehensive use of language often upset other pupils to the point that generally most of them wanted to either hurt or humiliate him.
Two boys stood over him kicking him as he lay faced down in the wet grass. Jim lay there and just took it, in fact he sounded liked he was laughing. When they realised that if they didn't stop they were going to do some serious damage, they turned to walk away; but they fell yelling in pain, each clutching at their leg.
“Oh God, what the fuck? someone bloody shot me” said one rolling around in pain.
Eventually after the shock and initial drama, the pair of them supported each other and hobbled towards the School. Jim still lay in the grass laughing - laughing till his bruised ribs were screaming in pain. It made him laugh even more.
“Come out, come out wherever you are?” He had managed to pull himself up on his feet and picked up his rucksack.
No answer.
“Thank you, Mr Whooo-ever. Are you going show yourself?
No answer.
“I’ll be going then...name’s Jim, Jim Moriarty, what’s yours?”
No answer
With that he started to limp back towards the School.
Jim sat in detention, he was writing out the schools motto one hundred times. He had tried to prove the Maths masters theory was completely wrong and the master had not taken kindly to being called a ‘stupid thick twat’. The only other boy in the room was a thickset tall, overly mature looking fifteen year old, sat two chairs in front of Jim and also writing out the Schools motto. Jim was staring at the back of his head, trying to will him to do something more interesting than just sit there.
The master left the room stating he would be back in a few minutes and disappeared into his quarters behind the classroom.
There was silence for a moment and without turning around the boy paused, put down his pen and spoke in low growl.
“It’s Sebastian…Moran”
“What? I’m sorry are you speaking to me?” Jim said sarcastically.
“You asked me my name. That’s it”
“That’s a very posh name for a boy that looks so ...well...ordinary” Jim drawled still starting at Morans neck.
“That’s a very dangerous thing to say for someone who gets the shit kicked out of them so much”.
Jim smirked but said nothing.
“Nothing to say?”
“Of course I have”
“What?”
"I think we need to talk” Jim smiled.
So it began, the boys who were shot with the airgun were pulled out of the School by their angry parents. Moran never got caught and with his help James survived the next year without being killed. Moran and Moriarty tolerated each other’s personality disorders and helped cultivate and nurture each other’s twisted minds. The twisted strands slowly became one thread.
One day Jim had wound Sebastian up so much he had punched him squarely in the face. Jim just stood there swaying, blood pissing out of his nose and running into his mouth. He laughed maniacally, his eyes never leaving Moran. Sebastian was hypnotised by the way they into bore into his own as though he was trying to get into his head. Jim was always taunting him for not being as clever and this felt like he was laughing at him. He roughly grabbed the other boy’s neck. He so wanted to squeeze his pale throat it until all the laughing ceased for good. Instead he pulled Jim towards him and crushed his mouth against his own. Jim retaliated by thrusting his tongue into Moran’s warm wet mouth tasting his own fresh blood. He liked it. There was no going back now.
When he was not with Moran, Moriarty filled his spare time with reading, piano, and swimming - often swimming competitions against other schools. Though after an incident with a boy called Carl Powers he did not swim again; it had all got a little tedious for him anyway.
Sebastian’s father was high up in the military and he was heading straight for the Army as soon as he was sixteen. Jim hit fifteen and left school after sitting his A Levels in Physics, Maths, Chemistry and Music.
Bigger things lay ahead of him now. Durham University first - get his degree, something to do whilst he made other plans. Networking and gathering contacts, he had begun to build himself a small underground business empire. He remained in touch with Moran and promised him that one day when he was ready, when it was big enough for two, he could have a piece of it.
Friday 30th March 2012
Molly Hooper had managed to come into work an hour earlier the next day on the premise of being able to leave an hour early that afternoon. She thought it might give her enough time to get home - shower, change and frantically attempt to ‘Nigella’ something up for Jims dinner when he came over at 8pm.
Tonight was a big night. She could not believe this was even happening. Here she was looking out the window with Alison, the girl who had taken Caroline’s job. They were watching a man pacing up and down in the car park below some five floors down. He was on his mobile, it looked like an important conversation, and he was frowning. This was the man she was making dinner for, Jim Ryan, and ‘Oh God’ didn’t he look sexy today.
“Oh Molly, he looks well fit” Alison pressed her forehead to the window and peered down at him. “Yeah he is, and he is so sweet, and he smells so nice” Molly giggled. He does this thing with his eyes, his eyelashes flutter, it’s kinda weird but so incredibly sexy” She hooked her arm in Alison’s and they turned to walk back into the canteen. Alison grinned, “Oh you have got it bad haven’t you. So is he staying over?”
Down below Jim Moriarty was taking a call and he was not impressed.
“So, Ms Adler, how did you get this number may I ask?” Jim paced the floor, trying to stay calm. Freaking out in the Hospital Car Park was not an option though right now he was pretty fucked off.
“Did he indeed? Well Mr Moran had no right to give it to anyone”. He stopped and turned towards the building and looking up, he caught a glimpse of two women at the window watching him - they turned and walked away.
“So what is it you want exactly....really, and you think I can do what?” he was so going to kill Sebastian when he saw him, sending him one of his fucking tarts to look after.
“Well, I am not sure what Mr Moran was thinking but I think you should sort this out yourself....what?...who?” Did she just say what he thought she said?
“I am so sorry do you mind repeating that?” His face dropped, he closed his eyes and took a long deep breath in.
“Mycroft Holmes. That’s what I thought you said. Well, Ms Adler you are in luck, I can help you after all. I will call you in two days” and with this he hit the ‘end call’ button. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t such a dumbfuck after all. Smiling he re-entered the building. He already had twenty jobs on his task list this morning and he had to get them all done before he left to go to Molly’s. Before that he had to get Sebastian to drop off some shoes to the basement flat of 221 Baker Street whilst good ‘ol Mrs Hudson was out.
“Why the shoes?” Sebastian questioned when he was driving Jim to Molly’s. It was a different car tonight, a Toyota. Equally as bad as the other one.
“My first gift to myself. Such a long time ago...” Jim said wistfully.
Moran didn’t ask, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I don’t want that Gollum bloke anywhere near me, he’s fucking creepy.”
Jim laughed “Yes, only a face a mother could love, and even then....he probably strangled her”
“I’ve got that bloke Petrov on the painting job. You know he says he knew your father. All I know is...”
“Sorry what?” Jim interrupted “he knew my father?”
“Uh, yeah, mentioned it, weapons I guess” at these words Jim’s face filled with anger and he snarled at Moran “Get rid of him, I don’t want him, I want him dead, just do it. I don’t want anyone working on this that even remotely knows who my father was, get the fuck rid. Moran looked surprised “You serious? Do you know how long it took..Oh fuck you Jim..”
“JUST DO IT!!!” He shouted so loudly it even took Moran by surprise “Okay, calm down, I will. We are here now, just calm down.” He pulled the car into the kerb a street away from Molly’s and turned to look at Moriarty.
“You okay now?”
Jim nodded sullenly “sorry”.
“I’ll sort it okay?”
“It’s just all getting to me a bit. So much to do, and everything has to be perfect you know? My little game. I might let you play too. Would you like that?
“Yeah, sure whatever Jim. Here you go” and with that he reached over into the back seat to pick up a cheap bunch of pink roses, and handed them to Jim.
“Oh Seb-ast-ian you reeaallly shouldn’t have, hah-ha” he chuckled.
“I thought pink was a bit more you than red roses” sneered Moran
“As long as my girlfriend likes them. Righto, off I go...don’t wait up dear...and if you kill anyone accidently whilst I am out, DO NOT call me”. He slammed the door shut before walking towards Molly’s flat. Moran watched him in the rear view mirror. Shaking his head he said “You're a clever bastard James Moriarty, but you are a fucking nutjob”. He slipped a cigarette into his mouth, lit it and then quietly drove away.
The suit Moran had picked for him was a medium blue £150 high street job. It didn’t look too bad, but its cut was uncomfortable and he hated the feel of it; it was making his teeth on edge. The quicker he could get out of it the better. He wore no tie and tried to look as relaxed as he could. He gradually slipped into Jim Ryan as he approached the flat, so by the time he rang the doorbell Jim Moriarty was nowhere to be seen.
The doorbell chimed a high pitched version of Greensleeves. He grimaced. He counted in his head one...two...three... the latch rattled on the other side. ‘Wow’ Molly must have nearly fallen over herself trying to get there that quickly. As the door opened, a cat shot out through the door and disappeared into the neighbours front garden. “Oh, Hi Toby....byeee Toby....” he laughed. Molly stood apprehensively behind the door biting her lip “Um, Hi!, come on in Jim” and Jim stepped through the threshold. Jim had heard there was a story that Vampires could only enter your house if you invited them in and the thought made him smile.
He handed the roses to her awkwardly and gave her a peck on the cheek. “For you...” Molly took the flowers and blushed. “Oh they are lovely, thank you”.
“Not as lovely as you, you look...really... wow...amazing!” She wore a simple black dress with her hair twisted into a pleat and dainty diamante earrings. The hem was cut at the thigh and showed off her long slender bare legs. Jim Moriarty was quite impressed. He was quite looking forward to this tonight after Molly had been so much fun to play with the evening before. Jim Ryan was of course nervous and clumsy as ever, tripping up over the hall carpet on the way to the lounge.
“You look lovely too, that suit really...well...Suits you” she laughed nervously. “Why don’t you have a sit down and I’ll get you a drink?”
Jim took off his suit jacket and threw it unceremoniously on the sofa, and followed Molly back out into the kitchen. “Only me...being nosey”. She stood barefoot at the cooker stirring a sauce, peering into it and not really knowing whether it was meant to be that colour or not. Jim came up behind her and placed his hands gently on her hips and looked over her shoulder. “Oh Jim, um...I am not really sure what I am doing. I think it’s ready please go and sit down and I will bring it.” she sounded a little irritated. “Oh sorry, I need the loo anyway, came to get my bag” he reached down to retrieve his bag from a stool next to the one person breakfast table. “Oh okay, won’t be long” Molly smiled uneasily.
Jim’s head was aching, and his arms felt as though the veins were writhing like snakes. He was determined to go through with this tonight but didn’t want to drink much. Jim Ryan’s persona was key to Molly introducing him to Sherlock so he had to keep this going for as long as he possibly could. He quickly shut the bathroom door behind him and searched for his pills in his bag. He would normally mix one valium and one vicodin at a time, but two vicodin and little booze would be perfect for the level of high he needed right now. He quickly downed the pills, took a quick piss and then returned to the hallway. He threw his bag down by Molly’s bedroom door. When he entered the lounge he found she had set a small table and two chairs that she had borrowed from the flat upstairs. On it was her best cutlery, napkins and a candle; she really was trying to be the perfect hostess this evening. Jim found it delightful.
“Aww, Molly this looks lovely. They sat and made small talk and Molly talked about her family and friends. Jim tried to steer the conversation to work and her special friend Sherlock Holmes.
“He nearly died you know, I didn’t find out till earlier. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”
“Oh my God, really, what happened?” Jim looked shocked his mouth open, fork paused half way to it.
Molly became very animated when she talked about Sherlock. Her eyes grew wide and she spoke to Jim about him as though Jim were another girl rather that the man sitting here waiting in prospect of taking her to bed.
“That gas explosion that was on the news. It was opposite his flat. He is okay though”
Jim smiled and giggled “Wow, he was lucky. Lucky old Sherlock eh?” Good job he thought or I would have no one to play with.
“He sent me a text earlier. He said he might need to use the lab tomorrow so you might get to meet him”.
“Oh really, that’s great, wow, a real detective” Jim smiled from ear to ear. At last.
The meal continued in light humour, with Jim telling rubbish jokes and Molly giggling far too much. He asked her lots of questions but never seemed answers hers.
She plucked up courage to ask him something that had been bothering her since they had met. “You know Jim, I can’t understand why you are single...I mean I know why I am on my own...but you” Jim tried to look awkward and bit his lip wincing. “Aww Molly, don’t”
She was looking for the right words without sounding too nosey “No, I mean, well, there must have been someone special...you know a girlfriend you really liked?”
Jim smiled gently putting down his knife and fork and reached for another glass of wine “well, there was once, in Ireland but it was a long time ago and she died...”
“Oh God, I am so sorry. I am so stupid I shouldn’t have asked”
“No, its okay, it wasn’t like cancer or anything” he winced again remembering how Molly had said her dad had suffered so much before he died. “Sorry Molly, I mean it, well...was drugs and stuff...she was a bit messed up, you know?”
There was a girl...Maire Moriarty. James Moriarty’s cousin, daughter of his father’s brother. She was something to behold. She was all long black ‘Coleen’ hair and dark brown eyes like Jim's, and a wicked, wicked smile that drove the neighbouring boys in her street insane. She was a one though, was Maire. She was two years younger than Jim but she was like most girls beyond her age. This is why Jim liked her, she was smart, a little bit crazy and always up for the craic. His mother and Niall took him over to Ireland during the time between leaving School and University to attend his uncles funereal. His own father had been dead three years now, cause unknown. Jim guessed he had upset a-lot of people over the years and he had got what was coming to him.
He had watched Maire at the funereal. For someone whose mother had died the year before and who had now lost her father to the drink, she did not seem at all upset. Not one tear was shed as she watched him be lowered into the grave, instead she watched Jim back with a smile on her face.
Back at the house the wake was in full swing. There had been an impromptu card game and whilst the men sat around losing their money to each other the women were getting as pissed as a rat’s arse. No one saw Jim slip a half bottle of whisky into his pocket and tip a nod to Maire on the stairs.
They stopped in the doorway to her room. She barred the way, arms outstretched across the frame. She whispered to him seductively licking her lips and looking like the young tart that she was. Her black eyes stared into his own.
“Well, Jim Moriarty, what are you, Sixteen now? “Jim nodded smiling. Not quite but he wasn’t going to correct her. “Well, did you know it is my fifteenth birthday tomorrow, and if I let you in my room you have to promise to give me a present...”
“Will this do?” he said bringing out the bottle from inside his suit jacket.
“That’ll do for now “she said taking it from him and leading him into the room.
They sat on the bed together, she in her short black dress with the hem hitched up around her thighs and he resting his head against the wall. It didn’t take them long to get through the whisky. They could not be gone for too long or someone would notice. They figured it would be a while yet though and they were enjoying each other’s company, although most of the time neither spoke. The whisky however, was making Jim a lot more relaxed and he wondered about her unemotional response to her father’s death.
“You’re not upset about your Da? Jim asked as he turned to look Maire in the face. He couldn’t keep his eyes of her bare legs and they were proving to be a distraction. He was trying desperately not to get a hard on, but was failing.
“Nah, he wasn’t me Da really, anyways. Me Mammy was always telling him that. He just put up with me after she died. He didn’t really give a shite what I did”. Jim reached out a hand to her face as she spoke and turned her head towards him. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but he kissed her full lips anyway, not really expecting her to respond. But she did, fully, deeply and with the enthusiasm that only teenage girls can muster. As she broke away from him to breathe she said “Jim Moriarty, you may be a smart arse but you still haven’t worked out what you are going to give me for my birthday”.
“No Maire?”he said smirking.
“You know I always thought you were you know, a gay-boy” she laughed quietly. Jim thought of Sebastian. “No, there is someone, but they are definitely not gay either” he laughed. “Glad to hear it” she said. She swung her leg over him and sat squarely on his lap and forced her mouth to his, grinding herself against him. There was no control in this and Jim felt uncomfortable. There was only one person who could control him in this way, so he grabbed Maire’s wrists and flipped her onto her back, changing the whole dynamics of the situation. Her pushed her legs apart with his hips and pinned her to the bed. She did not struggle. She did not get upset or ask him to stop. She stared into his eyes and smiling, she just said “Fuck me Jimmy”, and in a frantic teenage fumble he freed his stiff cock from his trousers. He pulled the crotch of her pants to one side and pushed himself inside her forcibly. “Happy fucking Birthday Maire” he chuckled into her ear. She gasped. When he let go of her wrists she clawed at his back like she wanted to tear him out of his skin and she pulled at his thick black hair. Jim was lost inside her. He had forgotten the people downstairs or any noise they may be making. He was just fucking her into the bed and that was all that mattered. She was like him, forgotten, fucked up, begging for attention, pain and comfort. He was near to cumming and he felt a pain in his head where the adrenaline was making his skull throb. He vaguely heard Maire shriek and he pulled out of her and away as he saw Niall and his mother standing at the bedroom door.
Niall was pissed and started yelling at Maire as Jim put himself back in his trousers and attempted to get off the bed.
“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing. Do’ya think we couldn’t hear y’?” He directed his rage at Maire, whilst Jim Mother stood holding her hand to her mouth hysterically screeching. “It’s your daddy’s fuckin’ wake, and you’re up here opening your legs for this little fecker. What the hell’s wrong wit’ cha?”. He stepped towards her with his hand raised in threat. Jim held Maire close to him protectively as she sobbed into his chest. There was no way he was going to let Niall hit her, he would kill him before he did that. His mother stepped towards Niall stilling him. She had gone now from hysterical screaming to a look of disgust and vehemence. She too started to wave a fist at the pair of them.
“James Moriarty, you are not my son, you are sick, do’yoos hear me? Sick...sick...sick in the head. Jus’ like yer father” She tapped her fist against her skull and shook it him once again. “He was like you, oh, all cleverness and charm. Guns and bombs and women. Just like your mother you little slut” She pointed her finger at Maire now. At the mention of her mother Maire looked up at her Aunt with wide wild eyes. Jim held her still looking confused, his mother had often compared him to his father but this was different. Maire was a trigger for a new kind of anger. He looked at her. What was she saying? She began to laugh and point at them both. Niall stood now with his arms folded and smiled knowingly.
“Oh, yes” she said shaking her head and poking her finger at them.”Did you never wonder why she looks so much like y’? So much like your daddy? She’s your feckin’ sister, you sick little shite. Your father charmed his way into her mother’s knickers not long after you were born.” Jim let go of Maire and stepped forward ready to smack the smug smile off his mother’s face, but Niall saw it coming and delivered a punch to his stomach.
The next five minutes went so fast Jim still cannot recall what really happened. He can remembering deafening screaming and shouts as both his mother and Maire tried to get him off Niall. He can remember the thrill as he knelt on the older man’s chest with his hands at his throat, squeezing the life out of him. He let him go, but not before the bastard was unconscious. Jim left the house amongst the chaos, took a bus to the Ferry point and came ‘home’. He collected his stuff and sought digs before his first term at University. He never saw his mother alive again and neither did he hear from Maire. He heard about her death when she was just twenty-two in a bedsit in Limerick where she had been turning tricks to feed her smack habit. He could have saved his sister, but maybe she was better off dead anyway.
“Oh Molly, I think I have eaten too much I am dy-iiing. I look pregnant… look”, Jim poked his belly out and patted it. Molly laughed heartily the wine was going to her head again, but at least she wasn’t drunk tonight.
“There was dessert, but I don’t think I could handle it. What are you doing?” Jim had left his chair and skipped to the stereo. Where he switched Molly’s depressing love songs to ‘Classical Romance’. Not exactly great but it would do. He held out a hand to her, bowing mockingly.
“May I have this dance Miss Molly Hooper?” Molly’s cheeks flushed and she took his hand. This was pretty weird dancing to ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in her lounge with a man she barely knew. Her mother would go nuts.
Jim was feeling genuinely awkward as he held Molly; she was so slight even up to him. He put his arms around her and held her close. He rested his head on her shoulder and put his face against her neck. She swayed side to side with him in silence her hands resting on his shoulder blades, her cheek against his.
What was this? Warmth. Comfort. This felt weird. Jim panicked and stepped back. He had to get hold of this situation. What the fuck was he doing? Enjoying this? He reached up to the back of Molly’s hair and gently pulled out the hair sticks keeping it in place and ran them along her back causing her to shiver. She looked at him a little surprised. He wasn’t smiling now, his eyes were boring into her own. She could feel her hands beginning to shake as she pulled him towards her…he cleared his voice and spoke.
“Let’s go to bed…I mean...I want to go to bed…with you Molly”. She gently took his hand and started to lead him to the hallway nervously. Jim let himself be led. He would try to be as submissive as he could without appearing like he had no clue as to what he was doing. This was going to be difficult, this acting lark. He was used to spits, snarls and sadism from Sebastian. As they reached the door he heard something. The bloody cat had made its way back through the cat flap. Jim looked back and pointed a two fingered gun at it. He mouthed the word ‘BANG!’’ and sneered. Toby meowed and ran into the lounge.
As he entered the room he noted that Molly had already turned back the covers on the bed and a soft glow came from a decorative table lamp and some very tasteless fluffy feather fairy lights strung across the foot of the bed.
Jim Ryan giggled at this “Oh look, that's so cute. It’s lovely Molly…come here” still holding her hand he pulled her towards him into a kiss. Molly’s nervousness was clear as after a few gentle pecks she pulled away. “Um, I need to…. you know, go to the little girl’s room I think” She smiled gesturing towards the bathroom. “Oh sure, okay, um, I’ll wait here” and Jim sat down on the edge of the bed. Molly quickly hurried out of the room and Jim could hear her pottering about and running water and presumably panicking about what was going to happen. Jim Moriarty poked about the table next to the bed which had various romantic literature on it; all well read, possibly library books or Molly’s favourites that she had re-read several times. One little book stood out from the others.
“A pocket book of fairy tales and rhymes” Jim read aloud. He opened the cover and read the inscription inside silently ‘To Molly, may you one day find your knight in shining armour; until then you will always be my little princess, Love Daddy x’. “Aww, Princess Molly” he said smiling. Not realising Molly was standing in the doorway watching.