A one shot featuring my favorite criminal pair.

What happens when Sebastian wants time off.

He timed it. Twenty seven seconds after he turned his phone off 'plane mode' he received a text message.

"Back yet?"

Former Colonel Sebastian Moran rolled his eyes and ignored the text message. It was from an unrecognized number, but he didn't have to be genius to figure out who would be so casually texting him. He travelled light, ignored the baggage claim and went outside. He hailed a cab and narrowed his eyes when one came quickly to him. He waved it along (his pocket vibrated ten seconds later) at took the third cab that stopped for him.

"Seb. You didn't get in my cab."

Different number. Seb raised an eyebrow in the back of the cab and sat back as he was taken to his address. His phone buzzed again.

"Seb. I'm bored."

The first number again. Sebastian rolled his eyes and ignored the text again. In the fifteen or so minutes that it took to get to his apartment he received another several messages from three different unregistered numbers.

"I'm bored."

"Sebastian, respond at once."

That made him hesitate for a few seconds. But he ignored that message as well. There was no telling what the boss would do but it was more likely that he was just trying to get a rise out of him.

"Seb."

"Seb."

"Seb."

"With Sherly gone I need a new plaything."

Sebastian wanted to hurl the phone out of the window. The man was ridiculous.

"Sebastian."

"Are you ignoring me?"

"I don't like being ignored."

Nope. He was not going to respond. Jim Moriarty would just have to deal with this problem himself. Sebastian doubted that there even was a problem at all, if he was being honest. He had literally just stepped off the plane and he would not be at the boss's call for another two hours at least. He needed to do a few things by himself first. There was a bath he needed to take, a novel he was near finishing, his gun needed cleaning, and his plants needed to be watered. There was also the small matter of updating his security system.

"Seb."

Now, this is when Sebastian Moran leaned back in his uncomfortable seat and smiled to himself. He treated his security system much like a regular man would treat his wife or progeny. To be frank, he loved it. It was to him, almost perfect, and when he got home he would actually be able to update it again after three weeks away. The thought made him smile.

"Sebastian. I'm bored."

Sebastian Moran's security system started in the elevator. If the button to the fourteenth floor didn't recognize a fingerprint it sent an urgent ping to his phone. Even if it did he had it ping his phone anyway (attnsts:low). He had actually bought the other apartments on his floor and sold them to people he would be able to keep track of and had their fingerprints scanned and programmed into his elevator. He updated it frequently to keep up with friends and relatives that commonly visited so he didn't get too many crazy alerts.

Then there was the hallway. He had the large balcony apartment on the side facing the London street, and his entrance was on the far end of the hallway, at least three meters away from the entrances to the other. If there was any sort of pressure underneath his welcome mat a ping was sent to his phone (attnsts:med), and a camera begins recording. Sometimes his neighbors were nice and delivered a package to his door. But that was only sometimes.

"The Iceman is being tedious."

Next came his door. Simple enough, honestly. Two keys, a deadbolt and a door knob. The keys had to be inserted at the same time, the deadbolt turned right and then two point three seconds later (the amount of time in between one of Sebastian's breathes, so it was easy for him to time,) the doorknob had to be unlocked. Once this happened, he would be able to get into his apartment. If by some miracle, someone else managed to do all this, there was still the matter of the motion-activated crossbow two feet into the apartment. It ran on a battery system, not on a computer, and was completely isolated from the rest of his protective screen.

"I think just thinking about me gives him acid."

'Mycroft rather likes hunting. It annoys him when he realizes he's the hind.' Sebastian thought, smiling to himself.

Once inside the apartment there were a number of booby traps and alert systems, including, but not limited to, pressure pads in the carpet, couches, and his bed, tranquilizer darts activated by motion sensors, any noises over five decibels and even errant electronic signals within a confined radius. There were two separate electronic systems, both running on miniature localized power generators, both operating on a platform that did not use wi-fi, rather, Sebastian used a closed internet connection that was completely untraceable from outside of the walls.

"Jamaica. Boy. I am jealous."

Home. He was so glad to be back. Sebastian paid the cabby, grabbed his small carry on and hiked his backpack higher up on his shoulder. He checked his phone and then called the number that would disable the elevator and doormat alarms. Half of the features could be disabled by Sebastian's voice but the password changed every few hours. The other half could be disabled once Sebastian was in the apartment. It required a retinal scan, finger prints and another password, this one that he developed and entered onto a touch screen he wiped down every time and replaced once every four months.

The voice pass code was a randomly generated string of numbers and letters that Sebastian first recited into his peephole;

"Four – U – three – seven – seven – W – four – O."

(secsyst;gen1/disarm)

This disarmed the crossbow that would have gone through his skull, the tranquilizer darts in the kitchen and living room, the pressure pads, and the bomb in the Chinese Tang dynasty vase in the foyer.

Sebastian stepped into his apartment confident that he would be able to rest. He glanced over at the crossbow and noted that it had a blinking red light on. Good. If it was green or yellow he'd have to worry. He stepped over the threshold, shut the door and locked it, activating the elevator and his front door mat again.

(secsyst:gen2,countdown_1:10)

He had just over one minute to disarm the rest of his system.

"Sebastian, are you home?"

He ignored his phone, walked directly over to the retinal scan, bent down a few inches, let his right eye be analyzed and recited his name at the same time.

(secsyst:gen2,proceed)

A small pad slid out from the wall and Sebastian entered in his private alphanumeric code that was seventeen symbols long. He glanced at his smart phone. The code (secsyst:gen2/disarm) flashed in green three times and then disappeared. A small phrase 'Welcome home, Sir' scrolled across the bottom and Sebastian smiled.

And what a welcome home it was. His phone buzzed again.

"Did you get a tan?"

Sebastian shook his head and went into his room. Shutting his door, he also pressed his thumb on a small scanner. This reset all his defense systems outside his windowless room until he wanted to disable them again (all this would take was another thumbprint and passcode).

He let his carry on drop to the ground and his backpack quickly followed. He pulled at his tie, then his shirt and finally his pants, leaving a trail of clothing into his bathroom. Placing his phone on the counter he stretched, enjoying the feeling of being naked and secure in his own home. Then his phone rang.

In all fairness, he had ignored at least a dozen of Moriarty's messages. He looked at his phone again. It was definitely a call.

"Yes?" He answered, still twisting in the shower mirror, observing the various bruises he had aquired.

"You're been ignoring meeee."

"I wanted some time off."

"You could have just asked." If Sebastian thought he was talking to anyone else he would have thought Moriarty sounded pouty.

"Can I have some time off?" Sebastian asked, reaching into the shower to turn on the water. One thing about living on the fourteenth floor. Hot water was a bitch.

"No."

"That's why I didn't ask." Sebastian said. He sighed and put a hand to his temple. "When do you need me into the office, sir?"

"Is there something wrong with right now?"

"Yes there is something wrong with right now." Sebastian nearly hissed through the phone. "I literally stepped off the plane half an hour ago. I'd like some time to myself."

"And do what?" Again, pouty.

"Ordinary things." Sebastian was looking at a particularly vicious bruise on his hip. "Straighten up the flat. Buy eggs. Make tea. Read a book. Shower." That one was going to be there a while.

"I'd say your flat's pretty neat, if you were to ask my opinion."

Sebastian paused. He looked around the shower, and then grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly around his waist.

"Sebastian? Are you there?"

"Yes I'm here. What do you mean, my flat's neat?" He said, exiting the steamy bathroom and going over to the thumbpad.

"I mean," Moriarty drawled as Sebastian punched in the passcode.

"Oh!" Moriarty said brightly as Sebastian opened the door to his room. "I mean," he continued, ending the call and walking up to Sebastian smugly. "That your flat is quite well kept for a bachelor like you."

Sebastian wanted to beat his head against the wall. In fact, for a few seconds, that's exactly what he did. When he looked up again, Jim Moriarty was still there, inspecting his nails.

"Done, then?" Moriarty asked, going into the kitchen.

"I was hoping," Sebastian muttered darkly, his phone thrown at his bed, "To get a few hours to myself."

"What? No."

"Sir, I-"

"You're not trying to tell me what to do, are you?" And suddenly Moriarty was in Sebastian's face, making him feel as if he didn't have several inches and at least seventy pounds of muscle on the other man. It was times like these that reminded Sebastian that James Moriarty was, in fact, a dangerous man. Sebastian stared at Jim, thinking about the response that could be the difference in between sleeping or drowning.

"How'd you deal with the crossbow?" Sebastian asked, eyes narrowed.

"I ducked."

Sebastian looked up and saw that there was indeed a metal shaft sticking out of the plaster wall.

"When I figure out how to install a snake pit, you're the first specimen going in." Sebastian couldn't help but to be impressed. Impressed and a little bit scared.

"I am the most dangerous."

"I've no doubt about that." Sebastian Moran had learned long ago that Moriarty was one of the more dangerous – if not the most dangerous – man he had ever met. It was one of the things he liked about him.

"I'll repeat myself," Moriarty said, and that slight prick of fear came back to Moran, "Are you really thinking of telling me what to do?" He was speaking slowly, but he still hadn't taken his eyes off Sebastians and suddenly the latter was very aware of how little he was wearing and how close Moriarty was.

"Wouldn't dare." He breathed out. Jesus, he needed a cigarette.

"Good." Moriarty turned away. "Now, that you're here," Seb snorted, leaning against his doorframe, "We aught to talk about Jamaica."

"We couldn't have done this in an hour?"

"No. I need to know now."

"I fixed the numbers problem." Seb said, quite thoroughly annoyed. He was thinking about how he should update the system. He would have asked Moriarty how he did it, but Sebastian knew that was just what the other man wanted and he refused to participate.

Moriarty turned back, having found an apple. He looked Seb up and down, almost ignoring the fact that the other man was in just a towel. "You did get tan."

"Yes, sir I did."

"I think you've been in Jamaica too long."

"I never was one for tropical climates." Sebastian said, watching Moriarty bite into an apple. He was still leaning against his doorframe when Jim came up and walked his fingers up his chest.

"I've missed you."

"I can imagine what you've missed, sir."

"Oh?" Jim's eyes seemed to glitter.

"My eyes. And my sparkling conversation." Sebastian smiled down at Jim.

Moriarty looked almost put out. He walked over to the couch and sat down, crossing his arms and looking so much like a child denied candy that Seb had to bite back a laugh.

"What?" Jim said sharply, eyes narrowed dangerously. "What's so funny?"

Seb shook his head. "Nothing. What have you been doing the past three weeks?" He asked, tightening his towel and sitting in a chair across from Jim.

Jim sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. "Ugh! Nothing! I mean-" He shifted in his seat, lying down on the couch. "The usual, heists, assassinations, corporate takeovers, but really, it's all been so boring." He leaned his head forward and then hit it against the side of the couch.

"You haven't organized any violent political coups yet?" Sebastian asked, almost amused.

"You know. . ." Jim's eyes lit up and his face looked a little happier. "There is a rebel force massed in Vietnam. . . Yes. That would send Mycroft into quite the fit." He sat up and noticed Sebastian smiling at him.

"What? What is it?"

"The face you get when your planning on destroying hundreds of thousands of lives borders on attractive."

"Are you saying my face isn't attractive all the time?"

"Wouldn't dare." Sebastian repeated, smiling at Jim.

"You know." Moriarty stood up, walked around the table, and without much warning, sat himself down in Sebastian's lap. "I think you're far more interesting than some silly rebel force in Southern Vietnam." He said, leaning down.

"I thought you just missed my eyes."

"Among other things." Moriarty muttered against Sebastian's neck, making the other man tense up underneath him. Sebastian moved his hands from folded in his lap to holding onto Jim's thighs.

"Always nice to hear." Seb said as Moriarty moved from his neck to his chest, and then back up. Jim leaned forward and spoke softly into Sebastian's ear. The man closed his eyes, and then – with a bit too much ease for the motion to be called unfamiliar – stood up and pinned Jim to the glass wall of his balcony.

Sebastian then began to furiously kiss Jim, and the other pulled him close, running his hands through his hair. Sebastian finally broke away from Jim, let the other man down, and straightened his towel.

"Now," he said, smirking, "I definitely need a shower." Sebastian turned, and walked into his room.

Jim had on a very petulant face as he knocked over a lamp on his way into Sebastian's room.

"That was an antique, sir." Sebastian said, glancing over at Jim. He was at the entrance to the bathroom and saw Jim looked a little huffy and smiled, shaking his head. "I think the water's warm by now."

"Dear boy you had me at let's have sex in the shower." Jim said, nearly skipping past Sebastian on the way to the closet. He began loosening his tie and then looked around the room.

Sebastian shook his head, smiling. There was something about having rough, angry shower sex with the most unpredicable, petulant, ill-tempered, erratic (erotic?, no wait, that was wrong), dangerous man in the world that turned him on.

"You don't mind if I borrow a couple of hangars, do you?" Jim asked, already in the closet. "I mean," he popped his head out of the walk in closet, indicating the finely tailored suit. "Westwood."