Some more general Jim/Seb silliness of the RATIOS (Riding a Tiger in Outer Space) kind.

James Moriarty was a state of the art kind of man, always up to date on what was new and most efficient. He could run the world from his phone. Which is why Sebastian was somewhat surprised by the increasing number of museum pieces crowding their flat.

"Don't manhandle the flatware so much," Jim said as he watched Seb do the dishes, "It's three hundred years old. And French. Be gentle."

"And the new refrigerator?"

"Is an antique."

"And the new faucet on the sink?"

"Also an antique."

"So you've been antiquing."

"So I've been robbing a lot of museums lately. I needed a hobby."

"When will the Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton be displayed in the living room?"

Jim scoffed, "T. rex? How obvious. I'm a much bigger fan of the Pachycephalosaurus."

"Because you can relate to having such a thick skull?"

"Oh! You know your dinosaurs!" Jim exclaimed, absolutely delighted.

"And you're a consulting criminal who still likes dinosaurs."

"I'm a professor!"

"And I'm a published author."

"The world is a strange place."

Seb hazarded to ask, "But really, why are our forks three hundred years old? Why is the hallway lined with fifteenth century tapestries? How old are the new bed frames?"

"Why did I seek you out when you were discharged from the military?"

"Is the answer the same?"

"Yes."

"Because you needed a hobby?"

"Because relevant things aren't made to sit behind glass while idiots stare at them."

Seb tried not to smile. On rare occasion, Jim could be so endearing that it made his teeth hurt.

Jim stood from the table (Eighteenth century. Mahogany. Irish.) and continued, "The bed frames, the plates, the first edition books; they were made to be used, to be handled, not to be gawked at from a safe distance," he stepped closer to Sebastian, as if threatening to handle him, "You. You were made to fight. To kill. Maybe to write books," a laugh, almost affectionate, "Not rot in some club playing cards," he stood flush against Seb now, coyly playing with the hem of his shirt and staring up at him, "I won't have relevant things sitting behind glass on my watch."

Slightly overwhelmed, Seb bent to kiss him, but Jim was already striding across the room to return to his laptop. From that point on, he gladly welcomed all new acquisitions (including the Pachycephalosaurus skull, which Jim started using as a paper weight).