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John sat alone at the table of the café, wringing his hands in uncharacteristic nervousness. He didn't know what had possessed him to say yes to this…whatever this was. Sherlock was the one who always put himself in stupid, dangerous situations, not John. The blonde groaned aloud and rubbed his forehead to ward off the oncoming headache.
When Jim had cornered him in that shipping yard, admittedly saving the doctor from being shot…again, and expressed his intentions in asking the blonde out, John hadn't known how to react. He still hadn't been sure it was really happening when his phone had rung at the exact time Jim had said he would call. Before his mind had caught up with his mouth, he'd agreed to lunch at the café where he was now sitting.
In fact, his mind hadn't caught up until just a few minutes before, when John was already seated at the table. He'd arrived ridiculously early, thirty minutes early in fact, and his eyes had swept over the other patrons when he began wondering about vantage points. The café was situated on a corner and offered excellent visibility if a sniper were to be perched on any of the surrounding buildings. It would be child's play to pick off any of the patrons.
One might think that such thoughts stemmed from John being nervous or suspicious about the man he was meeting, but the truth was that it wasn't an unusual thought for John Watson. As an ex-soldier, a doctor, and most importantly, the best friend of a consulting detective, that was just the kind of thing that filled John's head during his 'off' hours. A bit morbid, perhaps, but it was hard to break habit.
It did, however, start John's suspicions about the man he was meeting. It wasn't that he'd thought Jim Moriarty was harmless, he just hadn't thought of the damage he could do. At least not so directly. Sherlock was right, John was an idiot. How had he been so stupid as to fall for such an obvious trick? He'd let himself be lured out into the open and was sure that a bullet would be finding his heart at any moment.
With ten minutes left until their supposed meeting time, John figured it was his last chance to get out without getting killed. That was, of course, in case it wasn't already too late. He was just about to push his chair back and make a break for it when a melodic voice drifted across the café towards him.
"Oh, good! You're still here! I'm so sorry I'm late."
The self-deprecating smile that played across Jim Moriarty's face looked out of place to say the least. He slipped through the tables like a fish through water and was soon taking the seat across from John. The blonde glanced at his watch, it was still ten minutes before they were supposed to meet.
"I was still in a meeting across town when I got the news that you'd arrived early. You would not believe the traffic I had to sit through in order to get here!"
"I..uh…I guess not."
"Oh, lighten up, Johnny-boy! I won't bite…much."
A darker glint was in those twinkling eyes then and John found himself gulping nervously. What could have possibly possessed him to agree to this?
It didn't really matter though, seeing as how it was already too late. The world's only consulting criminal was sitting across from him in a little corner café, on what was probably going to be the only sunny day London saw for the year, and John couldn't help the nervousness that clawed at his stomach. He swore that if he made it through lunch alive he would never do anything without thinking about it first ever again. He would move to the country and never get involved with a police case for as long as he lived.
Sherlock would never forgive him.
A laugh that bordered on being a giggle broke his train of thought and John's eyes turned back to the man across from him once again. Moriarty was clearly amused and not bothering to hide it.
"What's so funny?"
He hadn't meant to sound so defensive, but it was hard when all he could think about was how many ways the other could kill him in the next five minutes. Also, he was pretty sure he was the one being laughed at.
"You look like you're in pain. Does our little meeting cause you so much distress? Why did you agree to it, then? You could have easily ignored the phone ringing. I told you, don't pick up and we'll forget any of it ever happened."
"I didn't want to forget." And damn his mouth for running off without his brain once again. He was going to have to get that checked out. "I mean, it didn't seem real. I wasn't thinking, I just…answered."
Moriarty was leaning forward, one elbow on the table and chin resting on his palm. He arched an eyebrow at his lunch companion and John couldn't help but think it was much nicer to be able to see him this time around.
"You've got a few different answers there, John…but they don't seem to be fitting together quite right. Care to try again? With more conviction this time?"
The blonde was spared a need to answer as a pretty, ginger waitress arrived at their table. A spattering of freckles dotted her face across her nose and the roundness of her cheeks made her look even younger than she probably was. She smiled at them sweetly.
"All here? Can I get you two something to drink?"
The smile Moriarty sent back her way was just as winning and John could see how the other patrons could be completely fooled as to the danger they were in.
"Tea for me, thanks."
"I'll take a coffee, black."
She nodded quickly and turned away to fetch their orders. John turned back to the man across from him to find himself being stared at questioningly.
"What?"
"I thought you were a tea drinker, Doctor Watson."
The blonde shrugged.
"In general, yeah, but it's hard to find decent tea at most places like this, so I stick to coffee. It's safer."
Moriarty nodded thoughtfully before leaning forward again, a devious grin on his face.
"So, you were saying before about how much you missed me…"
John blinked in surprise and started.
"I said no such thing!"
"Oh, but Johnny-boy, you did! That bit about you not wanting to forget? I know what that means…I intrigue you."
The blonde grumbled disgruntledly.
"That's not the word I would use…"
"Oh, I'm sure it isn't. That's why I used it. I thought you could use a bit of help expressing yourself and I am in the business of helping people, after all."
It seemed it was John's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Helping people, right…"
Moriarty's look of shock was as exaggerated as it had been that night at the pool and John felt distinctly uncomfortable with the comparison.
"But I do help people, John! I established Janus Cars for the sole purpose of helping people get out of bad situations!"
"And then you sold them out to play a game with Sherlock! I'd hardly call that helping…"
The mad man laughed in what appeared to be true amusement, though John wasn't so sure what was so funny. The chuckles died down, though, as the waitress delivered their drinks.
"I'll give you a few more minutes to look over the menus and be back for your order, alright?"
"Ta, love."
Moriarty flashed her another of his wide grins and several of her freckles disappeared behind a blush. John just rolled his eyes and couldn't hold back his scoff.
"Unbelievable."
This time, Moriarty's look of surprise seemed more real.
"What?"
"You…are ridiculous." He gestured after the waitress. "That poor girl is, what, half your age?"
He gave the other a disapproving look, only to be met with a gaping mouth.
"You think I'm flirting?"
"Certainly looks that way."
It came out sounding more irritated than John had meant it to and he covered his mistake by taking a sip of the coffee in front of him, which resulted in little more than a burnt tongue. Moriarty was still looking at him with a surprised expression on his face until he shifted and coughed a bit.
"Well, it wasn't intended that way. My apologies, John. You must know that I would never disrespect you in such a way."
"Disrespect me? You think I'm jealous?"
A smirk made its way onto Moriarty's face.
"Well…certainly looks that way."
The smug genius lifted his tea in a toast before taking a sip…and nearly spitting it back out.
"Ugh! What is that?"
John chuckled at the downright offended look on the criminal's face.
"That is why I never order tea in a café."
"It's disgusting!"
"Oh, trust me, I completely agree."
Moriarty's eyes flickered up to meet the blonde's and a moment of silence passed between the two before they were both suddenly laughing.
"Would you believe that I only ordered tea because I knew you liked it?"
Moriarty's smile had turned soft, his gaze flickering downwards to the table. He looked almost...shy, and John was caught off guard by the admission.
"I was about to leave when you got here. I figured you probably had a sniper on the roof of one of these buildings, ready to put a bullet in my head. I'm still not totally convinced that's not the case."
"Oh, come now. If I wanted you dead, there'd be much easier ways to go about it."
"Yes, but you're not always about doing things the easy way, are you?"
Jim shrugged one shoulder and smiled.
"No, I suppose not. But I give you my word, John Watson, that I have no intentions of killing you. And, whatever else can be said about me, I always keep my word."
The lull in their conversation was filled by the waitress arriving once again to take their orders. John's eyes skimmed over the menu one last time before turning to the girl.
"I'll have the grilled chicken club, please, no tomato."
She nodded and jotted the order down on her note pad.
"Crisps good for you, sir?"
"Yes, thank you."
She nodded before turning to Moriarty with a smile, only to be met with a cool glare. She looked startled by the change in his demeanor.
"I'll have the French Connection salad with grilled salmon, dressing on the side."
"O-of course, sir!"
Clearly flustered, the girl dashed away and John was left giving his companion a disbelieving look.
"Now what was that about?"
The consultant was suddenly doing a brilliant impression of Sherlock Holmes when the detective knew he'd done something wrong but didn't want to admit it.
"What was what?"
"You! There! With the waitress! You completely freaked her out."
"Well, at least I wasn't flirting."
John sat back, shaking his head and staring at the other man.
"Is this how you always are? Flipping from one mood to the other?"
"I am rather changeable, but you already know that."
"Jim, you can't just…you can't treat people like that."
"Shall I go back to being so sickeningly nice to her, then? Because you didn't seem overly happy about that, either. Perhaps you should figure out exactly what it is that you want."
"What I want? What does that have to do with any of this? We're talking about your behav-," he stopped himself short, realization settling in. "Oh…Oh, I see."
"Do you?"
"Oh, yes. " A sly smile started sneaking across John's face. "Who would have thought that the great Jim Moriarty, consulting criminal who strikes fear in the hearts of all those involved with the underworld, would fall so low as to act like a teenage girl. You're just doing whatever you think I want you to!"
The thought was so surreal, so crazy, that John couldn't help but laugh. He was definitely being messed with, so why not have his own fun with the consulting criminal? The brunette frowned at him, clearly not pleased. His next words silenced John's mirth.
"You would laugh at my affections, Doctor? I had not taken you for a man with such cruelty, the ability, and talent, for great violence, certainly, but not cruelty. You are full of surprises, indeed, and not all pleasant ones."
Perhaps it was his tone of voice, or something in the way his eyes held John's as he spoke, but the blonde could not have brought himself to doubt the other man's words if he'd wanted to.
"You…really have," he searched for the right word, "feelings for me, then? This isn't some elaborate joke or set up for Sherlock?"
"I told you before, John, Sherlock is just a distraction to fill the free time in my day. You are worth so much more than that."
Suddenly, the doctor's hands seemed immeasurably interesting and he found himself staring down at them as he fidgeted. Though relationships were nothing new to him, he'd been known in the Army as John 'Three Continents' Watson after all, he'd never before had the experience of someone being so straightforward and direct with their affections before. Well, there had been a few instances where both parties had simply been interested in the physical aspects, but that carried an all-together different weight than the attraction aimed at him by the consultant.
"I…I don't know what to say."
Jim nodded.
"Think about it. I'm serious about this, John Watson. You fascinate me and I can be very…attentive to the things that fascinate me."
His eyes traveled over the other's body, making heat rise in the blonde's cheeks. He thought back on the time he'd spent with Jim in the storage yard, pressed up against one another in the dark while they hid from the gunmen. He took a deep, steadying breath and the look in Jim's eyes told him that the other knew precisely what the blonde was thinking about.
He cast around desperately for a new topic of conversation.
"So, uh…how did you know that I'm a tea drinker?"
"Simple. I bugged your flat."
John stared at the other man while he processed the new piece of information.
"You…what?!"
"I bugged your flat. It was ridiculously easy. Really, John, you should get better locks. It's a security hazard."
"A security hazard? I should get better locks?!"
"Yes, of course. There's no need to repeat everything I say. I'm only trying to look out for you. Do you have any idea what kind of dangerous people are out there?"
"You mean people like you?"
"Don't be absurd. I'm trying to look out for your safety. Of course, I couldn't replace the locks without Sherlock noticing, so I've had to resort to having several members of my organization keep surveillance on your flat. It was the least I could do."
"Stalking me was the least you could do?"
"It wasn't stalking, John, it was protection. I had no idea you could be so dramatic."
"Oh, I'll show you dramatic…"
A clatter from the ground next to their table interrupted whatever John was going to say next, though. They both turned in their seats to see that the woman at the table next to them had dropped her compact mirror. She was already reaching for it when Jim all but leapt from his chair with a significant look in John's direction.
"Here, ma'am, let me help you with that."
Unfortunately, the fact that he was looking at John meant that the criminal 'master mind' didn't see the waitress carrying a tray of food, their food, until it was too late. He full on ran into the poor girl, sending the food tumbling over the young couple. The man, in turn, stood up in a rush and upturned his water all over the floor.
That would have been bad enough, if it weren't for the elderly woman passing by with her walker. The water combined with the stone tiles of the café's patio proved to be quite dangerous conditions as the poor woman's feet went right out from under her and she fell to the floor.
The silenced patrons of the café stared at Jim and he glanced at the young woman still seated at the table, now covered in food. He thrust her compact at her.
"I, um, got this for you."
John tried to hold it in, he really did, but there was just something about the woman's stunned expression that set him to laughing. He raised one hand to his mouth, desperately trying to smother the giggles that were bubbling forth. Scooting his chair back, he stood and made his way over to the older woman on the ground, still smothering his amusement.
"Hello, ma'am. My name's John Watson and I'm a doctor. Would you like me to take a look at your hip for you? That seemed like a nasty fall."
It took John close to twenty minutes to sort out the whole situation, a much shorter time than Jim would have expected. He looked over the older woman and gave her a clean bill of health, but still gave her his card and told her to drop by the clinic if she had any problems. He apologized to both the couple and the waitress for the disturbance before informing them that Jim would pay for their meal and a dessert. (Normally, Jim would protest such a decision being made without him, but it was rather his fault.)
John dropped a few pounds on the table where they had been sitting to cover their bill before grabbing Jim and beating a hasty retreat. Once they were out on the street, the real guffaws came. The blonde doubled over, grasping Jim's shoulder to remain upright. Apparently, he was over the fear of his companion killing him. The criminal consultant was not nearly so amused. He grit his teeth in irritation and shrugged the other's hand off.
"Yes, well if you are quite done laughing at me…"
His anger bled into his voice and John's laughter quickly abated. He frowned at the consultant.
"Jim?"
"Look, clearly this isn't going to work out, so I'll stop wasting both of our times and end it now. When next we meet, Dr. Watson, it will be as if this never happened."
The words cut the blonde man much deeper than he would have anticipated. As he watched the darker man turn and begin striding briskly away, he felt a pull to go after him….so he did. John darted forward to grab onto Jim's wrist, stopping him on the side walk. A voice swam forth from John's memory, a tear-filled, male voice. 'Carl laughed at me, so I stopped him laughing…'
"Jim, I…I wasn't laughing at you."
"Well, since I wasn't laughing it seems a little farfetched to think you were laughing with me."
He tried to shake John's hand off and the blonde let go without resistance. The last thing he wanted was for the other man to feel trapped.
"Jim, please don't go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just…I couldn't help thinking that of course this is the kind of thing that would happen to me when I finally found someone who…cares. And I thought about how you and Sherlock are a lot alike and about how everyone thinks he and I are a couple…which led to me thinking about what the Yard's faces would look like if they found out I was dating you, much less Sherlock's…"
He trailed off at Jim's shocked expression. After a few moments of silence, John shifted uncomfortably.
"W-what?"
"'if they found out I was dating you'…You think we're dating?"
No. Nonononono! That hadn't been what John meant! He opened his mouth to deny it, but Jim was already beaming at him and reaching out to grab his hand.
"C'mon, I'll buy you ice cream. There's this great frozen yogurt place around the corner. You'll love it, I promise!"
Shit…John had really put his foot in it this time…but, as the warmth of Jim's hand bled into John's, he found that he couldn't completely regret it. Something had shifted when the consultant had given him that open smile, something that soothed the pain in John's chest that his hurt expression had caused. It seemed the doctor was getting in a bit over his head.