TheDarkestShinobi: I had an idea that John and Seb served together (So original right?) and decided to run with this. This starts during the war in Afghanistan and continues to the Sherlock/Moriarty war. There are no couples in this, (I really don't have one planned, but review if there is something you want, you may get lucky) but you may infer what you wish to. Enjoy!

Bamfness all around

Start:

"My men are getting picked off." Moran's commanding officer reads out. He lifts the paper higher as he continued. "Just send me one sniper, the best we have." He lowers the paper. "That's you. Captain Watson has been making tremendous progress, so we're going to do everything we can to keep it that way."

Moran nods as his commanding officer reads him the file and fills him in. He is going to help out the Fusiliers, formerly Northumberland, but dismantled in '68. He'd heard about those guys. They cleared out town after town and were being held up at this last one. The interesting thing about them was their Captain, John Watson. He's a doctor, which isn't unusual, but a doctor that's a captain was. Normally he'd be a WO, a chief. He'd heard a lot about Watson. He heard that John Watson is the type of guy who can shoot your attacker between the eyes with a handgun, patch himself and you up at once, and then carry you both out without another sound.

He is excited if he's honest.

…

"Moran." He's greeted for the 20th time today, and he's annoyed in this heat so he does little more than grunt in response. He's been introduced to Fred, to Jason, to Hannish and Will and Louis and Henry and only God knows who else.

"Follow me, Watson is in the medical bay currently, but he wanted to see you as soon as you touched down." It was a few steps away from where they were, but Moran wouldn't say anything. He ducks under the tent to see two men working on a bullet wound, a short blond man and a taller dark haired muscular fellow who must be John.

"This is Moran," the other introduces and the short blond shakes his head.

"Give us a minute, he's almost done." Moran checks the both of them out but doesn't get a strong vibe from either of them.

"Okay, this one is being sent back." The taller one concludes with a tap to his clipboard before dashing out.

"Sebastian, right?" John says as he pulls off his gloves. Moran nods. "My name is John Watson." Moran shakes hands with the blond and smiles.

"I thought you'd be taller." He is expecting anything but the smile back.

"So you can talk!" Moran nods with a smirk. "Most people think I'm taller, seems I've built up a reputation."

"I know a bit about that."

John pulls Moran away and begins to talk about their situation in more detail than he'd gotten before. Moran's got quite the reputation has well, from what he's heard Sebastian Moran is the type of guy who would wait for days to get a shot at the target and then still decide to walk away from it if the conditions weren't right. He is likely the best sniper in this war, maybe second to Chris Kyle, the American. He knows Moran can get them on the move again.

…

"You have four snipers." Moran says as he leans over the map, still chewing the gum from this morning. John's learned some of his habits already. He always walks to the left of people, always has a piece of gum in his mouth, and prefers to be silent and watch people. He doesn't eat if people can see him and he will wait on the roof of a building for days to spot someone. If he says there are four people, John would bet his army pension there were four. Moran continues chewing.

"Where?" John finally asks and Moran takes a pencil off the table and draws two Xs on two adjacent buildings. "These two guys never move." He draws a line crossing through five buildings. "She moves; she'll be in anyone of these." John raises his brows at the 'she' but doesn't comment. "And this guy is truly lazy, most days he's nowhere, but when he's here it's in this building."

"What's the best plan?" John asks as he scans the map. He doesn't know Moran yet, so he has to ask.

"I can take out any of the four; if I shoot quickly I can take out these two or these two." Moran shrugs. "The rest will hide"

"How quickly can you lock on to someone?" John's asks as a plan formulates in his head.

"Depends if they are trying to hide." John crosses his arms

"Seconds Captain, not minutes." Moran answers as he puts down the pencil.

"Who's got the nicer toys?" John finally asks and Moran points to the two X's.

"Without a doubt."

"Kruger, Loverboy!" John looks up in thought "Gator!" Moran laughs. "Shut it you, I've been thinking about calling you wriggly or bubble." Moran does, quickly.

"Henry's not here." Kruger says as he crosses his arms, "we're down one."

"I'll be there with you."

John lays out the plan and Moran is impressed. He can understand why the group has been moving quickly. Watson's plans are practically flawless and he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. Moran tells him so, next chance he gets.

"We're lucky," was John's response, "all the civilians have left, so I don't have to worry about it." Moran thinks it's more like collateral damage, but Watson's in charge and Moran's got a job to do.

…

"He's on the roof." John answers Loverboy's unasked question without prompting.

"Why?"

"It gets him where he needs to be." John knows exactly what it is too, Moran is chewing gun and lying flat on his belly with one straight leg and one bent one. He would stay up there until it started, even if John took days.

"Does he want company?"

"I wouldn't go up there." John shakes his head. Moran would ask if he wanted company, right? John watches Loverboy check each gun. It's his routine. John closes his eyes and breathes before he gets up to check their small perimeter, it's his routine. On the way he spots Kruger and Gator debating rugby and smiles. Tomorrow is going to go just fine.

…

John nods twice to Kruger and they both take a breath. They move on the gunshot. Loverboy bounces before gripping his gun just a little tighter. Gator grins. John looks up, waiting. Moran will tell them when everyone's in position. Watson waits and gains admiration for Moran's patience. He's been up there since last night.

They hear the first shot minutes later and are moving. The second shot comes three seconds later. Moran watches through the scope as the other two snipers vanish into the buildings. He keeps searching for them, but he knows they won't perch by a window anytime soon. Loverboy takes two shots and John sees the sniper go down. He hears a few more shots from the building across from them.

"Clear!" He hears Gator's voice and he responds.

"Clear! Head back."

John walks over to the window to see the other snipers body slumped against his gun. The exit wound on the back of his head is nasty. John kneels and turns the body over to search his pockets. He takes the gun off the pod to bring to Moran when he notices the scope is broken. John nods, impressed as he realizes Moran shot this sniper through his sight and through the eye. He did ask for the best, and he got it. Moran likes the new toy, but prefers his own.

Without the snipers, John takes the town in four days.

"You can head back now, if you'd like." Moran looks up from his gun and turns his body to see that Watson had joined him on the roof. Moran sits up facing the other

"Is that an order?" he smirks and John shakes his head letting a small smile show. John nods after a few seconds of silence from the sniper.

"Nice to have you on the team, but if you don't have a nickname in three months, I'm going to call you bubble."

Three months later, when Moran and Watson's leave came up, Moran had resigned himself to that terrible nickname.

…

You said you were in London, right? -Moran

John glances at his phone as he reads the message, a blue flip phone that charges him for every text. He smiles and shakes his head. How the hell did Moran even get his number? John taps his phone on his leg before shaking his head and licking his lips. It buzzes again and John reads the next message.

Don't ask how I got your number.

John laughs, outright giggles, at the messages before sending a reply and calling. Moran answers the phone with a laugh and before he knows it he and Moran were drunk as sailors. John throws an arm around Moran's shoulder, which ended up more around his waist. In response Moran throws his arm around the captain to lead him down the street to a place he knew from his teenage years.

"You know what I haven't had yet?" Moran spits the gum out of his mouth onto the cement as he tightens and loosens the arm around Watson. John looks up at him with furrowed brows.

"What? It's only been two days." Does he want to find women? John was sure staying at the bar would have been the best way to do that.

"Chicken." John has determined that it must've been a direct result of the intoxication, but any man who can talk about chicken for an hour and a half was well disserving of the nickname Colonel. When Moran woke up on John's sofa the next day, it was with a headache and a nickname. The best part is that Moran doesn't remember the night, so he's at a complete loss.

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