Using You [[Consulting Criminal + AlwaysCounted]]

Having an interest in a particular topic was one thing, but having an obsession was another; and James Moriarty could hardly help himself or contain the excitement that grew inside him. He had always looked for distractions and it had always came down to the same thing: torturing some unfortunate soul until he became bored with them, or murder. Anything to keep his mind off ridding himself from the world and the dull idiots that so happened to surround him day after day.

And it just so happened that Sherlock Holmes came along. The man was, by far, the most interesting person he had come across for as long as he could remember. An 'admirer', Jim was, finding himself fascinated by the detective and his work. He was extraordinary; different; a challenge that Jim was willing to take part in. It was something new that he had never come across.

However, getting to the man was certainly proving difficult. Jim had had to think it over, plan what course of action he would take and how he was going to go about that. At first, finding a way into Scotland Yard using a simple disguise seemed the perfect plan, but then something else had come to mind. Holmes also occasionally visited the morgue at St. Bart's on a regular basis and the criminal had found his perfect opportunity.

Today would be the day he went for a job interview there, hoping to be employed, preferbly something not too boring and unbearable. This meant acting out of character and pretending to be someone with a completely different personality than his own (he had already figured everything out).

The clothes he wore were plain - a boring t-shirt and jeans. Jim hated them. They were nothing like his well-tailored suits that fit him comfortably, unlike these awful pieces of clothing that felt horrible against his skin. Ugh. How could people wear such filth? He looked so ordinary.

On any other occasion, Jim would have refused to wear them, but they were essential to fit in with everyone else - much to his distaste. Acting normal was a terribly mundane task, he noticed upon reaching St. Bart's. People brushed past him without so much as a second glance, hurrying off to work and other places. It was lunchtime, and London was always undeniably busy at this time and loud, so it was a relief to get inside the building.

There was no sign of anyone. The Irishman assumed they would be eating lunch and whatnot, meaning he would have to wait a while before speaking to someone or have them guide him toward the right place. To distract himself, he stared uninterestedly at some posters and leaflets pinned to a billboard to make himself look busy, a frown fixed upon his languid expression.


[[Hope this isn't too long for you! ._.]]
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-JM ♥

Molly was standing alone in the loo. She didn't necessarily need to be, but she wanted a mirror. She leaned against the marble counter, her lanyard sliding into the sink upon it. She was poking at her cheeks, changing her expression. She even turned her head upward and to the side. No, she wasn't admiring herself; rather, she was trying to find the problem. Why did Sherlock Holmes, or any other man in this hospital for that matter, not find her interesting? She understood she wasn't...gorgeous, no, but everyone had their own beauty. Maybe that was just something her mother had told her to make her feel better about having no date to the prom.

She sighed and pulled her lanyard back when she bothered to notice the sink was dripping water onto her ID badge. She turned away from the counter, but swiftly moved back as she came to realize what might be the problem. She gasped, not fully touching her lips, but allowed her fingers to brush across them. She wasn't wearing make-up! Honestly, it wasn't because she had something against it. It was habit, really - when she got ready for work, she ignored the vanity and went about her business. So used to ignoring make-up and only focusing on the way she would wear her hair, she hadn't considered what a little lipstick or eyeliner might do for Sherlock Holmes.

Any man, of course! She laughed to herself and oddly enough, spoke to herself. "I keep thinking Sherlock, like he's the only one. I'd be doing it for anyone, of course." She waved her hand, continuing to laugh. Deep down, it wasn't funny and when she allowed herself to realize that, she stopped smiling. She looked incredibly sad when she did not smile; she noticed this while staring at her reflection. Deep down, she knew she was doing it for Sherlock, because the man who was both handsome and smart, had been on her mind for as long as she could remember.

When she came to work, she looked forward to working...and seeing Sherlock, should a case bring him here.

So no. Molly wasn't trying to find the problem every man noticed about her. She was trying to find the problems Sherlock had noticed, because if you knew Sherlock Holmes, you knew you were never safe from his skill of deduction.

Sighing for the second time, she turned on her heel to leave for good. Maybe she could try wearing lipstick...or wearing her hair differently...or go about a topic of conversation he might find int--

Oh, she didn't think anybody would be around! In fact, when she noticed someone standing alone in the hall, she glanced at the clock to make sure she hadn't lost track of time while in the loo. Hm...no, lunch was still on. He must have been...well, lost. He looked lost. That made Molly grin, because anyone who was lost made the silliest expression and yes, his frown was making her grin. She approached quietly, as to not startle him; completely unaware of who this really was.

"Excuse me. I couldn't help noticing...but do you need help?" She asked. Using a friendly tone and smile, of course.

{ Shh, don't apologize. It was perfect! }

Jim was thoughtful as he stared transfixed at the board, barely paying any attention to the actual display and rather, thinking about what he ought to do when the time came to speak to whoever owned this wretched place. He was doing this for a reason, and if it meant meeting Sherlock Holmes of all people to see if the stories were true, he was up for the challenge, however excruciatingly tedious it may be.

His train of thought had slowly disappeared into nothing in particular, leaving him to daydream with the same frown plastered onto his pale face without fully realising it was there. He questioned himself and argued with his mind, partially regretting this and partially hiding the anticipation that churned quite unpleasantly - though not as horrible as he had imagined - in the pit of his stomach and left an uneasy feeling.

The criminal barely noticed the figure that came towards him, his thoughts still further off somewhere else. He had thought about leaving and coming back later at a better time, but any further actions were out of the question now. Jim snapped out of his daydream when she spoke; a friendly voice that brought him back to reality.

Turning to her, he examined her briefly, realising she worked here. He happened to notice the ID before anything else: Molly Hooper. He didn't know her, but he soon would. She appeared to be an easy target, a sweet girl that wouldn't have a clue what was coming to her next. Jim planned to keep her in mind, unless he found someone else to strike upon.

Forcing the most amiable smile he could possibly muster, it matched the young woman's. If not, it was almost charming. Indeed he did need help, referring to her previous question. "Oh, that would be great, yes," he replied, his dark eyes resting on hers for a moment. Avoiding eye contact was not something Jim was used to; and he normally used it to make people uncomfortable. The same went for personal space; it didn't exist as far as he was concerned.

Averting his gaze when he realised the habit, he looked at the floor and up again, feigning shyness. He had always been good at acting, so this was not new to him. He got away with everything if he so pleased to. "Um, you couldn't show me where to go, could you?" he asked, awkwardly and absent-mindedly played with his hands. "I'm looking a job." Jim added for it to make sense to her, though he knew perfectly well what he was doing.

It would have been so easy to explain, yet he had to constantly remind himself he was taking on a different persona and if he was going to want things done his way, he was going to have to ask nicely.

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-JM ♥

When he turned to face her, she was still smiling, but she didn't allow her eyes to wander. She didn't want them to, because she wanted Sherlock. So, in order to get Sherlock, she couldn't allow herself to look at another man the way she looked at him (whenever he wasn't looking, mind you). She was free to browse and obviously, she didn't belong to Sherlock (and never would), but what if he turned the corner and felt betrayed? Surely, he would? So, she didn't check this guy out; despite how nice his smile seemed to be.

Even though she wasn't very good at noticing every little detail, as living people were much different than dead people, she did manage to catch the way he could no longer keep eye contact with her. As if he was shy. It almost made Molly giggle, because she was used to being the shy one. This was a nice change! And something about her expression lit up when he asked to be shown around. It was because he wanted a job here. If he got the job he was after, she would have someone to talk to. Maybe even on a daily basis, if they became close enough.

This whole time, Molly thought it was her lucky day. How very wrong.

"Yes, of course!" She exclaimed. She waved him closer, but was actually gesturing for him to follow her. "I'll just lead you to the front desk then. There is a woman there by the name of Michelle. She'll give you an application and depending on what you're looking for, will redirect you to the manager of that specific section. Unless you're looking for anything, in which case you'll probably need more than one application," She paused to glance at him. She was going to smile, but she realized she had rambled.

"S-Sorry..." Ugh. Bad habit she could not shake. Nevertheless, she wasn't about to take it back. That would look silly (and would probably be rude, too). "I'm Molly, by the way."

Jim was secretly pleased that everything was going according to plan, if not a bit better than that. The first thing he had been meaning to do was to go to St. Bart's Hospital, which was already checked off the list; next was to apply for a job and hopefully get it, which he was now going to do once shown the way to where the manager was; and lastly, he would target someone who worked closely with the detective and make them his victim.

So far so good, he thought to himself as Molly offered to lead him in the right direction towards the front desk. No downfalls whatsoever (and hoping there would be none). He also found that the young woman was more than helpful to him in carrying out his plan for the meantime.

Following after her, Jim took in her every word, making sure not to miss anything that might come of vital importance in a later stage. He would be fending for himself as soon as she was gone. Not that he minded; the criminal worked better on his own without any distractions. "Thank you." He nodded to show he understood and was listening just as she looked back at him.

"You don't have to, um, apologise," Jim gave her a small smile, finding it difficult to appear as a friendly person. The Irishman was far from it. He never had been genuinely friendly to someone unless he was faking it and there was no chance he would be starting now. "I'm Jim. And it's nice to meet you, Molly." He introduced himself after the other had, wanting to keep on good terms with her. It could come in handy.

"What do you do?" He asked out of curiosity, figuring that would familiarise himself with whether or not she would be any value to him. If not, it would be best to avoid her from here on in and find someone else worth keeping around.

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-JM ♥