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Title: Stars
Rating: R
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: Jim Moriarty
Summary: "Oh, I don't think that matters, do you?" A rather sinister look. "I know who you are, though."
Status: Incomplete - Chapter 2/?
Notes: The hypersensitivity, or "overexcitability" as it can be known, is detailed here - I suggest clicking the links for each one if you want to know the downsides as well as the "positive" points, particularly "sensual", "imaginational" and "emotional" which are the ones I've used most for Jim.

As always, Seb is played by Jonathan Rhys Meyers in my head, so that's how I write him. Just so you know where I'm coming from. XD

(Chapter One - Kidnapped)

The whole situation was rather surreal. One day, he'd been feeling like a failure at life, working in a clothes shop even though he had a PhD. The next, he was being shown around the place he'd be working, which just happened to be a government building. He didn't really understand it, but if it meant avoiding prison then he was all for it - and the wages would certainly be better than he'd been getting up until then.

Jim had been in his new job for three days when he was assigned a bodyguard. Sebastian Moran, he was told the man's name was. The Irish surname was a good thing, but he didn't get his hopes up just in case. When he finally saw this "Sebastian" chap, he couldn't help the silent intake of breath as he took him in. He wasn't overly tall, about five foot ten, but he looked very strong and he was beautiful. Jim suddenly felt hopelessly inadequate and just a little bit in-love.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Sebastian greeted him, and Jim almost melted on the spot. Despite his new bodyguard sharing his own Dublin accent, it was still hot as hell and it took Jim a moment to even register the words.

"Oh, er, yes, hello," he replied, shaking the hand currently being outstretched towards him. Standing this close, it was painfully obvious just why Jim needed a bodyguard - at five foot eight, being of such a slight build and hardly looking a day over seventeen, defending himself physically wasn't an endeavour in which he was likely to succeed. He looked like an awkward teenager at a wedding in his suit, whereas his new bodyguard looked very professional and slightly threatening.

The secretary who had introduced them quickly scuttled out of the room, leaving Jim alone with Sebastian and with no clue what to say or do. He'd never been particularly good at people, having been bullied throughout school and then going to university at sixteen, where he'd concentrated almost exclusively on his studies for the seven years he was there. He'd been in the astronomy club and the video gaming society, of course, but the other members of such groups weren't exactly known for their social prowess. Since he'd completed his PhD, he'd barely left his basement flat except to get food and go to work. Now, he'd been thrown into a world of things he wasn't very good at - telephone calls, meetings, talking in situations where he actually had to speak slowly and make sense...

He must have been daydreaming, staring or both, because the next thing he was aware of was Sebastian's voice. "Sir, are you okay?"

Shaking himself out of it, he gave a shy smile. "Sorry, miles away!" He turned back to his desk, pretending to sort out some papers. When he looked up, he realised he was being watched. "Oh, I... sorry, Sebastian. You can sit down if you like," he said, gesturing to the sofa in the middle of the room.

"Call me Seb, sir. Most people do." Seb crossed to the sofa and sat down, but still remained stiff and alert as he continued to watch Jim's every move.

Jim blushed and down at the desk, then set about replying to an email. It was dull, but it had to be done before his first proper meeting, at 9.45am. He could feel Seb's eyes on him and it made him feel uneasy, so as soon as he'd clicked send he sprang up from the chair and poured a cup of water from the water cooler. As he sipped, he watched the traffic passing in the street. Jim didn't like traffic, or noise in general, really. He was incredibly hypersensitive in all of his senses - the curse of the gifted overexcitabilities, he called it - so if he wasn't in the mood for it, any noise, sound, touch, taste or smell at all could be too much for him. He also found himself to be incredibly over-emotional at times, as well as frequently being lost in a daydream. Like now, for instance.

He must have been out of it longer this time, because when he heard Seb's voice again, the man was standing nearby. "We should go now, sir, otherwise you'll be late." He tossed the paper cup into the bin and grabbed his phone from the desk, then nodded.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They'd swapped numbers on the way to the meeting, which probably wasn't the greatest of ideas. Ten minutes in, Jim found his eyelids were becoming heavy, though he was trying hard to pay attention. Luckily, Seb had noticed. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he double-checked that it was on silent, before started to type.

Wakey wakey, sir. ;)


Jim barely managed to disguise the startled feeling as his pocket vibrated. He pulled his phone out and read the message, and when he lifted his head he caught Seb's eye. His bodyguard had a particularly cheeky look in his eyes - for a man seemingly so stoic and professional, the look seemed rather out of place.

First switching the vibrate function off, he texted back: This is so boring. Can't you create a bomb scare or something?

I'm afraid not, sir. Though if you look carefully, Mr French is wearing a wig and it seems to have slipped.


Jim looked over to the man chairing the meeting and saw that, in fact, his wig had slipped. He stifled a giggled, covering it with a cough and an apology. Perhaps this job wouldn't be quite so bad after all. Chapter Three - Mistakes

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April 2012

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