Kidnapping For Fun And Profit (JWatson@221B, BehindtheCurtain & Sebastian Moran)

Things were going well. Jim sat on a bench outside of the convenience store near 221B. John was inside, shopping for milk and tea. Jim wore jeans and a plain shirt. It made him feel almost uncomfortable, but it was better than attracting attention by wearing a designer suit.

Sebastian sat next to him. There was a grey backpack between them, filled with several lengths of rope, a bottle labeled 'Chloroform', and white cloth.

"Sebastian, did you remember to bring the handcuffs?" He whispered in low tones. He looked expectantly at the other man.

(I hope this is okay c: )

((Ickle Sebby Prefect next?))

(Don't insult my precious human killing machine, Jawn. 0__o Although yes. Yes indeed.)

Sebastian sat expectantly waiting on John to make an appearance, absent mindedly drumming his fingers on his thigh. A sign that showed he was impatient. He was staring off into nothing in particular, clearly daydreaming about what tortures were about to happen after they caught the detective's precious little doctor.

The sniper only snapped out of it when he realised Jim had said something and took a few seconds to mule over what he had been asked. "... Right, of course. I've got the handcuffs here, Boss." Sebastian patted his pocket--there was an obvious sound of metal.

The other hand rested over his opposite pocket, the one that was currently holding his handgun he always brought with him when he wasn't going out on a job; the pocketknife placed in his shirt pocket since there was no room for it anywhere else.

((Ickle Sebby? Ickle? I'll show you how 'ickle' I am when I slit your throat Jonathan John <3))

John had already checked out was walking towards a bench with two men and a backpack perched on it.

He nodded to them as he passed, not thinking much of it, not seeing their faces. But in the back of his head he had an uneasy feeling. One that said "Wait! Look again! Who are they? I sense danger!"... but he ignored it.

Despite every instinct telling him to turn around, despite the feelings of danger, he ignored it. Suddenly a man knocked him hard on the shoulder as he passed. The groceries fell, and John turned to the man angrily.

"Watch it, will you?"

((Yes, Moran - Ickle. You got a problem? And my name is not Jonathan. It is John.))

"Hello, John." Jim faced him with the backpack slung over his shoulder, and a slightly manic grin.

"Surprised?"

He wanted to laugh at the groceries that had fell. He delighted in the idea that they would never turn up at John's flat. He would have to remove them. If he was lucky Sherlock might be able to find John just by looking at the abandoned egg carton and some mud. Probably not, but he didn't like to take chances.

((I think I'd prefer to call you pet, doctor.))

John's eye widened in horror. No. Not him. Not again. That horrible grin snuck in to the nightmares he sometimes had of the war. Always that grin.

"A-a bit, yeah" John looked around to see if there was someone he could call for if Moriarty tried something. "I wasn't exactly counting on you waiting outside the store for me. And, ehm, why were you waiting for me? Or do I not want to know." Said John, looking the infamous Jim Moriarty in the eye.

((Pet? Pet?!? I am not your pet, nor am I anyone else's! Sebastian Moran is your pet, Jimmy, I'm not!))

Sebastian eventually came over and appeared beside Jim with a nasty smirk, his eyes studying the other man in front of him with a rather smug expression. The doctor's reaction amused him.

"We decided to pay you a little visit, Watson." The sniper interrupted on John's question, his hand momentarily hovering over the gun hidden in his pocket; the temptation to take it out and shoot John becoming difficult to resist.

((No, I shall call you Jonathan whether you like it or not. And you will not call him Jimmy but me D:< My Jim. Grrrr))

"Aw no, not you too. The last thing I need! Two psycho men waiting for me to walk outside!" Sighed John sarcastically.

His attention turned to the tall man next to him. Just in the corner of his eye, he
noticed Moran's hand move toward his pocket. "Hey, no guns please, Sherlock has mine, and I don't really want to dodge bullets today." John shrugged his shoulders and grinned teasingly "Sorry."

((Alright, Ickle Sebby. You can call me Jonathan. But I won't stop calling your master Jimmy. ... How about you, Jimmy? Still calling me "Pet"? .... Oh, and Ickle Sebby? You can have him. I don't really like him, seeing that he covered me in Semtex and told you to point a gun at me and Sherlock. I don't appreciate it. ... :3))

"You're hardly any fun, doctor. Sebastian won't shoot you, as long as you don't try to run away like an idiot. How does that sound?" He waved a hand at Sebastian, motioning to get a firm grip on his gun.

"Now I would appreciate it if you would hold out your arms and turn around."

((I do wish you wouldn't talk that way to us, John Watson. I'll remember it when you're sitting obediently at my feet. I think I'll get you a nice collar with "Pet" engraved on the tag.))


((ooc- Erm. I hope that isn't too creepy. <__<;))

John's face went slack. Of course. What else had he expected? They wanted to capture him. Probably as a bargaining tool for Sherlock. John swallowed audibly and glanced around. The street was deserted. No one to help.

Jinn thought of his options. Run, get shot, get captured(possibly).... Submit, get captured, strapped in to a bomb vest again(maybe) and Sherlock might, just might start to wonder where he was. Sheesh. Nothing turned out well for him. Only thing that would be better for both Sherlock and himself...... he didn't know. So, he went with option one.

He kicked Moran in the gut and then punched Moriarty in the same place. Then he started running as fast as he could, but he knew a bullet was faster.

He desperately looked for a place to hide that didn't have a dead end. His search was to no avail. There was no place to dodge bullets. He was stuck running down a road.

Sebastian was inches away from taking out his gun when the force of the blow to his stomach delayed him and a low, irritated growl escaped from the back of his throat. "Fuck..." he snarled in annoyance, the thought of someone even daring to lay a finger on his boss making the sniper more agitated than he already was.
No one could just get away with something like that so easily. If Sebastian got hurt, it was fine. But if it was Jim on the other hand, that was just crossing the line.

Ignoring the easier option of taking out his gun and shooting the doctor, he began to chase after John as though the man were his prey and wasn't long to catching up with him because he had always been fast.

Sebastian roughly tackled him to the ground and immediately pinned the other man's arms to his sides, holding him firmly to the ground so there was no chance of him defending himself or getting up again. "Should have thought 'bout what you were doin' before you kicked me and decided to run away you little shit." He said viciously, glaring at the other who was practically underneath him and pinned down from the force of the sniper's weight.

((That's not creepy, it's a perfect idea!))

Jim managed to furiously catch up to them a few seconds later. He opened the bag and retrieved the bottle from it. He poured a carefully measured dose of liquid on the cloth and sneered at John.

"You will stop this, or I will peel your skin apart in the most agonizingly slow manner I know. It would be easy to take my knife to your hands. So perhaps you should settle down!"

Jim quickly pushed the other man's forehead down with one hand. He was thrilled by the satisfying painful sound he made as it hit the ground. He covered John's mouth with the cloth and whispered "Sweet dreams..." He crouched there, waiting for John pass out.

He looked up at Sebastian. The other man looked supremely pissed off, but thankfully otherwise unharmed. "Think you can carry him to the apartment, darling?"

((Dog tags for everybody! Although, I think I like them best on you Seb.))

John could only think to himself before he went under: Well, that was an epic failure. I.. whoa. The world is going black. Chloroform. Yuk.

John blinked awake. Everything was fuzzy. After a while, his vision cleared, and he could see where he was. But exactly where was he? Certainly not on the street that he had been captured from.

"Shit." Mumbled John, realising he was tied to a chair. He looked around the room he was in. Mostly empty, save for John and some suspicious looking boxes. He pulled at the ropes binding him a bit, only to find they were expertly tied and he almost couldn't move at all.

Since he could do nothing, John stopped all movement, raised his head, and stared hard at the wall. What else could he do?

((NOOOOO! I don't want a dog tag! xD Not creepy at all.

...

And I will /never/ kneel at your feet obediently! No!))

Sebastian had easily carried John over his shoulder to the flat as Jim had asked, glad to find the streets deserted on their way there. The last thing he needed was someone spotting them.

He secured the doctor into a chair on his boss's orders when they got there and left him in the room. Then he paced outside the door and paused from time to time, listening intently for any sign of movement to indicate John had regained consciousness.

The sniper went to find Jim when he heard a bit of movement and a voice from inside the room, feeling suddenly amused from the thought of what they'd do. "He's awake, Boss." Sebastian said once he found the other man, looking at him expectantly for any other orders on what to do next.

((I shall strut around shirtless in my dog tags for you, Jimmy!))

((We should really do a separate MorMor RP sometime xD))

Jim Moriarty looked up at Sebastian with wide eyes and a toothy grin. "Good, good."

They were in a small bright room that was a crammed full of large electronics equipment. Jim was currently looking pleased at some computer screens. Each one was focused on a different angle of the room John was held in.

"He's quite secure. Excellent work, Sebastian." Jim mindlessly patted the other man on his chest before turning to look at him. He smiled and softly ran the hand up Sebastian's chest to rest on his cheek. Jim held the his gaze before cruelly digging his nails into Sebastian's cheek. He pulled away quickly, leaving angry red marks.

"Let's turn the lights off. We'll leave Doctor Watson to sit for a while in the dark. I want him to be as disoriented and uncomfortable as possible when we finally greet him."

He motioned for the other man to follow him as he navigated out of the electronics equipment in the room. He definitely didn't want to touch the circuit breaker himself, although he was practically giddy with anticipation. He loved the thought of John alone in a dark room, angry and alone- stuck with only his thoughts and fears. Jim could barely wait to see John's eyes burn when they turned on the light. Would he refuse to speak at first, or shout relentlessly? Oh, Jim was curious.

((*Pushes John to his knees and threatens Sherlock* muahaha. I would ply your obedience with jam or baked goods, but threatening Sherlock is much more satisfying! Muffin?))

((That shirt is Dolce, be careful! Just fold it beforehand. Take your trousers off too. I mean, for the sake of not wrinkling them. Of course.))

((MorMor? Oh my, that sounds good! :3 Loyal snipers and their well-dressed psychopaths are the best~ ))

Sebastian simply nodded, giving Jim a half-smile in return as the shorter man focused on him and ran a hand up his chest to his cheek. It was a sort of praising motion to say at the least and the sniper couldn't help but feel pleased with himself for what he'd done.

He winced as the other man's nails dug ruthlessly into his flesh but let no sound of pain escape him to prove he wasn't weak. He cursed Jim under his breath as the criminal turned away then, shooting a glare after him. He could change so easily sometimes. Especially his mood.

Sebastian shook the thought off and followed after his boss, letting his eyes rest on some of the different controls and electronics. He walked over to one of the control panels that affected the lighting and turned off the lights where John was currently tied up as he knew he was supposed to do.

((Fine. *folds shirt and takes off trousers* There we go. Happy now Jim?))

((We must think of a storyline. ^_^ How fun! We could even do a teen!lock RP. Anything would do.))

((Oh honey, happy doesn't begin to cover it. Now come over here so I can sit on your lap... To read your dog tags, obviously.))

((waiting for John waiting for John c:))

((Oh, teen!lock sounds fun :D Maybe when they meet? How do they meet? Hm hm.))

John sat for a while, staring in to space. Thoughts began to form. How was Sherlock? He had texted him right before he had seen Moriarty that he was coming home. Was he waiting for him still? Or... did he even realise that he was gone? Was he just talking on and on and on to an empty flat? John hated himself for thinking those thoughts, but he couldn't help it! John knew that it was completely possibly Sherlock didn't notice he was gone, but... John hoped he hadn't.

John felt something wet slide down his face. A single tear. John blinked and lowered his head, also noticing that while he was lost in thought, the lights had gone out. No light could be seen. The room had no windows, and the door was sealed and behind him.

John had never liked the dark. Especially after the war. Some nights, the medical unit he was in would have to sit behind a brick wall, in complete darkness, while bombs and shrapnel were dropped from above. They had to sit and listen.to.people.die. They weren't allowed to help, for fear that the five of them still left might die.

John felt himself quivering. Memories of the war flooded his brain and overwhelmed him. John cried out once, and then bit his tongue to stop himself from making any other noises. More tears began to flow freely, and John had no way to stop them.

"Stop. Please. Stop." John whispered thickly.

Jim turned to a small black box sitting on the nearby table. He opened it, taking out the thin knife resting inside and turning it over in his hands. He seemed satisfied as he placed it carefully back inside and firmly closed the box, putting it in his pocket.

He turned to look at the dark screen monitoring John Watson. The man made a few distressed noises before going completely quiet.

Jim chuckled, like he was hearing a pleasant joke rather than the cries of the poor man tied up in his repurposed sitting room.

"Honey, we are going to have fun with this one! It's a shame he scares so easily. I prefer a little more fight from my... guests."

He looked at Sebastian with a wicked grin. "You have your gun? It's time to talk to our friend in person. I am just so excited! Do you think I look okay? Am I overdressed? Right! He's not going to see me. What was I thinking?" Jim made a show of smacking himself in the forehead and shrugging as he rolled his eyes.

Sebastian paced the room for a few minutes, his eyes on Jim as the other man watched John on the screen. His own eyes darted to it for a moment and he grinned to himself, looking forward to whatever the other man had planned for the doctor. Violence was always welcome.

The sniper nodded and patted his pocket to show he had his gun at the ready, rolling his eyes at the questions Jim fired at him and the different things he said.

"You look fine as always, boss. Trust me." He replied with a small, reassuring smile, his eyes moving back to the screen then back to his boss, staring at him expectantly.

[To read my dog tags. Of course, Jim. *walks over and sits down*]

[That would be good, maybe they meet at school? Uni? Somewhere else maybe?]

Jim nodded. "Hit the switch, will you?" He made his way out of the room, towards John. When Sebastian caught up, Jim pressed the seven digit number into the keypad and the door unlocked.

"Hello sweetheart!" He swept into the room, looking happily at John.
The man's face was wet from recent tears. Jim walked around him, checking that his binding were secure. He found them to be more than satisfactory. He walked back around and knelt in front of John. Jim did his best to ignore the man while running a hand down his cheek. Jim wiped the tears off on John's own trousers.

"Feeling a bit down are we? What's wrong? Worried about Sherlock? You should be. He was even easier to steal than you! We took him right as he was looking for you. Just don't try anything if you want him to keep those lovely eyes."

Jim turned his eyes to Sebastian, willing him to play along- to support Jim's bluff.

((Uni might be good. How about roommates at first? Or pining across the room during classes? c: ))

John squinted at the bright lights. It hurt, since his eyes had just adjusted to darkness.

He sniffed and then felt a little anger when Jim called him sweetheart. "Don't call me that." He snapped, forgetting his earlier fears.
John started when Moriarty touched his cheek. He turned his head away and growled, "What do you want?"

He sat listening, and as the man kept talking, John felt more and more angry. They had taken Sherlock?! Anger pooled like hot lead in his stomach, as he stared right into the eyes of the murderous psychopath.

"You lay one. finger. On him, and I will tear. you. apart." Growled John, fighting against his bonds.

Jim stared steadily into John's eyes. "How touching. You're in luck! I was planning more for ten. I actually have this lovely new riding crop that I wanted to use. Sherlock would be able to appreciate that, yeah?"

He stood and laughed at John. He was furious- ready to kill Jim and Sebastian just to save Sherlock. No questions asked. Maybe Jim would kidnap Sherlock. Keep him right next to John, all bound up, neither of them able to do anything but scream to the other until they could barely whisper. Oh yes, Jim would definitely enjoy that.

He pulled the slim case out of his pocket and opened it up. He slowly removed the knife from it, and put it back in his pocket empty.

"Sebastian, would you hold him for me? I want to show him his present!"

((Are we up for a Sherlock some point on? He's probably just sitting on the couch covered in nicotine patches right now :P But eventually he'll want his phone, and John won't be there to get it from right next to him.))