"Do you always do everything he says?" John questioned the man.

The man glanced up at John from the strapping of the bomb. Something flinted across his face before he returned to wiring the bomb to John. John sighed.

"I understand, you know," John said, "I don't get told to wire bombs to people, but I pretty much do whatever Sherlock asks me to."

"Oh?" the man looked up again.

"Yeah, why do we do that?" John commented, more to himself than the man, "It's like we have some sort of suicidal need to follow them. Or at least I know I do. I have no idea why, but that first time he asked me to go with him I just automatically said yes. I was ready to go. I guess I'm some sort of adrenaline junkie and he provides adrenaline."

"Not as much as Jim, I bet," the man answered.

John laughed at that.

"No, probably not," John agreed, "How long you been with him?"

The man blushed and looked back to the bomb.

"I'm not with him," the man muttered, "He's married to his work."

"Ha, that's what mine said," John laughed, "Those exact words, actually."

The man looked back up.

"Really?" he asked, cocking his head sideways.

"Yes, really," John answered, nodding, "I wasn't even trying to ask him out or anything."

"They are a lot alike," the man admitted, shrugging, "They should just shag already and leave us out of it."

The man looked back to the bomb and starting doing stuff with wires again.

"That would be nice," John commented.

The man looked up with a smirk on his face.

"That's not what I meant!" John said, rolling his eyes, "I meant it would be nice if they left us out of it."

"Mmm-hmm," the man said, clearly amused, "Whatever you say, Doc."

He returned to wiring the bomb and John couldn't help but smile a bit. This guy was actually pretty nice. Sure, he was a trained assassin and all that, but who was John to judge? The man had clearly been with Moriarty a long time. John could tell by the way he never protested an order, but merely rolled his eyes when Moriarty wasn't looking. The man was tall. Taller than John, but then again, who wasn't taller than John? He had sandy hair that hung in his eyes. John wondered why he didn't cut it considering he was a sniper and all. He also had this awful, ugly scar that ripped across his cheek. John studied the man, wishing he could see what Sherlock saw when he looked at a person. The man's eyes flicked up to look at him again.

"What?" he questioned, "Why are you staring at me?"

"Just noting how handsome you are," John answered.

It wasn't exactly a lie, because John really had noticed how handsome the man was.

"Oh, really?" the man said sarcastically.

John smiled down at him in a reassuring way.

"Yes, really," he answered.

The man's face reddened slightly as his green eyes flicked back down to the bomb. John smiled as he realized the man's eyes were green. A nice electrifying green, John thought. The man seemed to notice that John was staring because he looked back up again.

"You really think I'm handsome?" he asked in a small voice.

"Of course," John answered brightly, "Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"

"No," the man stated.

"Well, you are, you're very handsome," John said firmly.

The man seemed to struggle with the words for a moment.

"Thank you," the man said.

"You're absolutely welcome," John said brightly.

"You're entirely too cheerful for someone getting a bomb wired to him," the man said, shaking his head.

"It's probably because I haven't quite realized it yet," John said, "Or else the adrenaline is making me giddy. Anyway, where are you from?"

"Nowhere," the man answered bluntly.

Then he went back to the bomb and John briefly wondered how long it was going to take. A few moments of awkward silence later, the man stood and picked up a large green parka that was hanging over a nearby chair. He slipped it on John without moving from his spot. John looked up at him as the man pulled the two sides together across his front. He didn't zip it up. Instead he just stood there for a moment, holding the two sides together.

"You can put your arms down now, Doc," he said quietly, his hands letting go, "Jim wants you to put your hands in the pockets. It's supposed to look like you're him for a brief moment. Don't ask me why. I'm not the genius psychopath."

He turned and started walking away. John desperately tried to think of a way to keep him there.

"What's your name?" he called.

The man looked back over his shoulder with a smirk.

"Sebastian," the man answered.

"Good to meet you, Sebastian," John answered brightly, "I'm John."

Sebastian paused, an amused look filling his face.

"Good to meet you too, John," he said quietly.

Then he left, leaving John feeling rather disappointed. He stared at the door Sebastian had walked through and wondered if he'd meet him again. He really hoped he would. Sebastian did seem like a really nice guy. He smiled briefly before he suddenly realized the man had been strapping him with a bomb. He shook his head and laughed at himself. Hey, just because he straps people with bombs doesn't mean he's not nice! He thought, laughing a little harder. Then he smacked a hand to his forehead and told himself to quit acting so weird.

Little note: I'm doomed to go to hell anyway, so I might as well make it fun!