Sherlock Imagines [ON HOLD]

08. When you become friends (Moriarty)

--• JM •--

--• JM •--

Night after night, days after days, weeks after weeks, you and Jim got together at your usual bar, that was located in one of the more fancier neighbourhoods of London.

At first, you weren't quite fond of the bar, it was too classy and snazzy for your liking, but eventually you actually started to enjoy going to the bar every night, after having a hard day at work. It became a place where you could easily relax and forget about your problems.

It was eleven o'clock when you both arrived at the bar.

"(y/n)," Jim smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he saw you get out of you car.

"Hey, Jim." You smiled as you adjusted your purse and walked to the door.

As soon as you were close to him, you immediately pulled him into a hug, making him grunt in annoyance. You didn't react to his action because you knew. You knew all too well that he actually liked your hugs, since you always felt him relax under your arms.

After pulling back, you began to ascend the stairs in the direction of the terrace.

"I really don't see why you find it important to—" His nose scrunched in disgust. "—hug me whenever we meet."

"Oh, shut it." You rolled your (e/c) eyes, bumping your shoulder playfully against his. "You know you like it."

His lips formed into a smirk as he leaned forward. "Well, I can think of other things i like that involve touching you."

"I'm sure you can." You deadpanned with an eye roll at his usual flirting.

Some things just never change and his flirting is one of them.

"The offer is always open, if you do change your mind, love." Moriarty purred, sending a seductive wink your way as he laid his arm on your shoulders.

"No thanks." You shrugged his arm off your shoulder, smiling secretively when you saw his disappointed look, and entered the bar.

Arriving at the terrace, you made your way to your usual table and took a seat on the chair, Jim following close behind you.

You noticed that he had yet again reserved the whole bar, meaning that there were no people on the terrace beside the two of you. Whenever you asked why he did it, he always answered that your conversation could get interrupted with people around you.

It was nice to know that he liked talking to you to such an extent, that he made sure nobody could disturb your chat.

After ordering some drinks, you leaned back into your chair, your shoulders relaxing at the sight of the star-filled sky, and gazed up for a few moments, while you both just enjoyed each other's company.

A waitress came by with your drinks before leaving which was Jim's cue to start talking.

Moriarty began to talk about how his day was, and his day went exactly as how you would imagine a day of a notorious psychopath would go.

In the morning, he had an eventful business meeting with some of his moronic clients, where one lost its tongue for talking too much, and one ended with a bullet in its head because he was irritating. Afterwards, he made some deals, annoyed the hell out of Sherlock, shot some people and stole the Crown Jewels.

He finished with complaining about how hard it was for him to remove bloodstains from his Westwood suits.

You chuckled with an amused look. "Why don't you just stop killing people so they wouldn't be there in the first place?"

Moriarty lifted a hand to his heart, completely flabbergasted that you would even suggest such an atrocious idea.

You rolled your eyes at the drama king, taking a sip from your drink. "It was just a suggestion, Jim."

After he had finished talking, you began to complain about your daily problems which consisted of getting the wrong information from an informer, not getting enough sleep because your newly-married neighbours were too busy celebrating, and almost getting caught by a security guard because your heel got stuck.

His solution for your problems, as expected, involved killing the people who were causing you trouble.

Jim's way was very tempting indeed, but you knew that if you lived the way he did, half of the population of London would be dead by now since you were easily annoyed by people.

After getting everything out of your systems, you both decided to just order more drinks and get hammered together.

You told each other funny stories about things that had happened while you were working the job, made fun of the bald head of owner every time he walked by the windows, and played numerous drinking games that left you more drunk than you already were.

Jim and you ended on the floor by the end of the night, both trying to catch your breath as you stared at each other with matching grins, Jim's a bit more wicked than yours.

After growing tired, you decided to go home, so you both wouldn't fall asleep on the floor of a bar instead of your soft beds. You got off the floor and helped a rather reluctant Jim up. You got your purse and walked out of the bar.

You began to descend the stairs, taking two steps at a time and giggling like the children that you were acting like.

He turned to face you, slightly swaying from side to side, before offering you his infamous smirk. "Goodnight, (y/n)."

You smiled drunkly at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Jim."

Turning on your heels, you staggered to your car while waving at an intoxicated Moriarty.

--• JM •--

As always, i hoped you liked the story  and until next time.

- WavyBrown2