Professor Moriarty

((Hello!! Thanks for the kind message!

Just want to say that I am about, and though I would be slow because I’m very busy I am still happy to write the Prof is anyone were to IM me with a good thread idea.

“If you were acquainted with the Doctor that I am, Professor, trust me. You would throw apples at him as well.”

“I see. I suppose having apples pelted at you would keep an annoyance away.” Maybe he could do it to Moriarty as well.

     Well, it didn’t look like Sebastian was going to be able to get himself out of this one any time soon. Fucking Moriarty. Stubborn bastard. “Alright then. If you’re sure.” He muttered, shoulder lifting into what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. Didn’t want his boss thinking that he had issue with it.

       “No, I’m fine. Go get your coat.” Getting to his feet Sebastian pocketed his phone before lifting a hand up to fix his hair. Could he still flirt with someone with Moriarty sitting there beside him? Maybe. He’d have to be subtle about it. Didn’t want the other man interfering. “Want to walk? Or get a cab?”

“We can travel in whatever way you would prefer,” the professor responded as he took his coat from its stand and pulled it on. “Should it help, though, I am more than happy to pay for a cab should you wish to take one.”

Walking, though... That could be nice. He could make Moran stop to let him feed the pigeons on the way. Wouldn’t that be fun? 

He was pleasantly surprised by the record- not a show they’d seen together or that Richard was likely to seek out on his own, but a nice enough sound. Enough so that Rich let his brother turn out excuses. He was busy, anyway. The mountain of a cat deserved attention, which Richard was all too happy to provide. He scratched dutifully under Argand’s chin, listened to James speak, and put herculean effort into not rolling his eyes.

“James got so fed up with you ignoring his letters he called me. Apparently, the number you’d last given him had been misprinted.” Or purposefully wrong. If Richard could’ve gotten away with half of whatever his second-eldest brother did- “He’s coming to the city for his birthday, he wants us to do something.” A pause. “He’s under the impression we’ve already been planning something for it.”

Misprinted? The professor snorted at that accusation. As if he would ever do such a thing! No, the fault was fully on their brother - James was sure of that. The great idiot had probably read the number wrong and been too stubborn to double-check it.

“I see. He’s still as demanding as ever, it seems.” How irritating. Well, family was family, he supposed. If their brother wanted to do something, then something would be arranged.

“And what in the name of the universe would that do?”

It’s some silly human thing, he’s almost certain.

 Sebastian was in the process of getting to his feet when he heard that dreaded sentence. “You -…”

                                                   Well, fuck.

                       Trust Moriarty to be the world’s biggest cockblock.

     Composing himself for a moment, Sebastian flicked through all the reasons and responses he could give that’d deter his boss from joining him. The last thing he needed was James sitting there with a face on him whilst Seb was trying to pull.

       “I don’t think you’d like it. It’s fairly dingy. And the whiskey probably isn’t up to your usual standard. Plus the clientele are fuckin’ -…” Sebastian trailed off mid-sentence as an idea hit. “Actually boss, for your own safety I think it’d be best if you didn’t come with me. Don’t want you getting hurt.” His lips quirked into a faint proud smirk, fully convinced that this would work.

“Nonsense, my good man,” Moriarty quickly dismissed in return. “You are fully aware of my boxing champion youth, and I have not lost my spark since then. I am sure that I will be more than capable of holding myself against your less than favourable friends.”

The apparent low quality of the drinks was a deterrent, it was true, but the professor was far more interested in why exactly Moran didn’t want him to visit the pub with him then he was in drinking something with a pleasant taste.

~ @thecriminalprofessor ~

      “Righ’ - So, I’ve disposed of the target and given a very s e v e r e warning to the little prick that tried to negotiate with you last week.” Lips curled in a faint smirk. “He’ll be taking his meals through a straw for weeks. Stupid bastard actually tried to beg. Y’know, that just makes me even more annoyed - Fuckin’ whinging.” Sebastian’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, pulling himself out of his small rant. “Can I go get pissed now? Cause ‘m gonna be honest - There’s a bottle of whiskey down the pub with my name written all over it.” And a good-looking bartender pouring it. But he wasn’t going to mention that part.

There was a temptation to remind Moran about his use of language. Moriarty resisted, though. He was hardly an angel with his speech himself and besides, it would be inefficient to scold a man when he had done a good job. The other man had completed his tasks - no doubt with great skill, though the professor would have to check that at the first possible convenience - thus some leniency was to be allowed.

However, that wasn’t going to tame Moriarty’s impulses entirely. He was a man who liked to play with people and, unfortunately for Moran, he could see a further motivation to his upcoming pub visit. 

“the trick to beating the doctor is to make their meddling an essential part of your plans.”

No, James, don’t do it. It’s tempting, but it isn’t worth-

Oh fuck it, he’s going to do it.

Charlie nodded, making a mental note of Moriarty’s details. That was plenty of time to sort out a bidder; a stationary prize allowed for a much wider window of opportunity for the work to be carried out. It seemed like this wouldn’t be too difficult after all. “I have a few bidders in mind,” he mused. “I shall investigate to see if they’re aware of the arrival of the jewels, though I suspect they will already know by now as well.” He nodded to himself. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. “Yes, give me a week and I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” He would be holding the other man to that. One week, and then Moriarty would be chasing him up. That was if he had time. He had a few PhD students that owed him work, and he would undoubtedly be chasing them up about that too.

      ❝ … ‘m still not lending you a light, prof. ❞