A/N: Okay, so I had a beautiful inspiration for this and I could not resist. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, because I always love a few good pointers here and there. Hope you like!

445C

I had always enjoyed coffee. But I had never really thought that leaving my flat to get some would change my life so much. I mean, yes, it was a hard decision to actually make myself get up out of bed that morning; but now looking back on it if I went back to that moment I would've left the flat in a heartbeat. Not for the coffee, but for what came after. Meeting Jim Moriarty.

445C

The day had started out how it usually had. I woke up in my small flat, and I debated whether or not to get out of bed.

You don't even have a really good reason to get up, I told myself. Normally, people only get out of the flat if they have something to do. So, what would I do? Well, I guess I could either:

A: meet someone

B: get coffee

C: look for a new flat

I checked over my options, carefully eliminating several of them. Looking for a new flat I don't have the money for, and that would require me to be out for quite a bit.

A: meet someone

B: get coffee

No one's exactly lining up to meet an ex-military man who can't afford his own flat…

B: get coffee

Well, coffee it is then. I decided. So then I got up, and after getting dressed, I left the flat, ready for a good dose of caffeine.

445C

After I got my coffee, I started to head to the door of the shop, sipping my drink. As I opened the door, I was greeted with a huge gust of freezing wind. I then retreated back into the shop, cursing under my breath. I hadn't bothered to bring a coat, figuring that I wouldn't stay out for long. Sighing, I headed to an empty table in the back of the room, since all the others were filled. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who was unexpectedly kept in here by the declining weather.

I was waiting for the weather to get better, slowly drinking my coffee when someone came to sit down at my table.

This man wasn't too tall, but not short either. He had a dark brown shade of hair, and was wearing a nice and probably expensive suit. Westwood, most likely, I thought to myself. He also had big brown eyes that to be honest I had found somewhat captivating. Although he seemed to be upset about the weather, his face showed a special reflection of humor that I assumed he always carried with him. A man like this, I assumed he was waiting for someone. I had no intention of interfering, so I slunk back into the chair at the far corner of the table. The man noticed this, and seemed to actually take offense.

"Hello," He said in a conversational tone. I ignored him, keeping to myself and sipping my coffee.

"You can speak, I assume?" He teased lightly. Certain he was now actually talking to me, I faced him properly.

He smiled at this, and offered his hand. "Jim Moriarty." He said.

I took his hand and shook it in return. "Sebastian Moran."

"Ah, he speaks!" He exclaimed.

"Are you meeting anyone here?" I asked.

"Oh, because of this?" He asked, gesturing to his suit. "Nope, unless you count yourself." He said, and winked at me. I couldn't help but laugh. I like this guy, I thought.

After that, we were just talking. Even after the weather got better. I told him about how I had just gotten back from Afghanistan, but he did most of the talking. He shared with me his current projects and ideas. He is a genius, I really believe so. The way he talked about these things inspired me, his personality altogether, really. But even though he had told me so much, I had not even found out his occupation.

"Don't mind me asking, but what do you do for a living? I just found it odd how much you told me yet I haven't found that out yet."

Jim smirked, obviously pleased. "Oh no problem, I figured you would ask eventually. I'm a consulting criminal, the only one in the world. I made up the job, you know." As he says this, there is a joyful gleam in his eyes, and I can tell that he enjoys this job quite a bit. He looks at me, as if expecting praise.

"Well it sounds better than what I do," I joked.

"Oh it is, trust me. I get so much fun out of it." After saying this, an awkward silence fell over the two of us.

Jim sighed dramatically. "God, I hoped you would bring this up yourself. But sure, whatever; make me ask. I assume you want to become flatmates?"

I stared at him in shock. "How do you know I need a new flat?"

"Well you pretty much told me already, since you said that you lived in a small flat you can barely afford with your army pension. Obviously looking for a flatmate then, since you can't exactly pay off your own rent. I found a nice place here in London; I believe it to be 445C Arrowhead Street. Or something like that."

He started to get up, and put his coat back on.

"Wait, we basically just met, and you are expecting me to just move into a flat with you? Just like that?"

"Yep, pretty much. But considering I'm not hearing any no's, I will meet you there at four." And with that he smiled at me and left the shop.

445C

Hours later, I found myself standing in front of the flat of 445C. I must be insane, meeting a 'consulting criminal', and then hours later moving in with him? I sighed, checking my watch. The time read 4:02 pm. I was about to leave, thinking to myself that I had gone to the wrong address or just wasted my time, when a cab pulled up to the flat, and Jim came out of it.

"Seb! I knew you would show up!" He walked up to the door of the flat and opened it. "We have a flat to look at!" He exclaimed, as I followed him inside.

445C

Nearly an hour later, I had come out of that flat, agreeing to move in the next day or so. I just had no idea how much moving in with this wonderful and altogether crazy genius would change my life, or anyone's for that matter.

445C

A/N: So that was chapter one. Did you like it? You know what is a good way to show if you liked it? A review. Just putting that out here. I will upload chapter two soon!