Inked || Sebastian and Susan

Friday 30th June, 2006

Dear Susie, 

I know you would do great with the business if our old man would just let you have it. Believe me, I wish he would, because I sure as hell don’t want to deal with it. But when it’s mine, you better believe I’m hiring you, and he won’t have any say in anything anymore. With our luck he’ll live to be a hundred and say on the board until his dying day though.

"Seemed nice"? He tried to set a bunk on fire and he "seemed nice"? I worry about your taste in men. But I guess any of us can seem nice enough. I seem nice enough. But you’re my sister so it’s different. You know that. You know what I mean. I know you’re sharp, kid. Can’t trick a trickster. Keep away from the rotten ones, hear?

You know I support whatever you want to do, but don’t think getting married with be a happily-ever-after. Look at Mum, Susie. That’s what she thought, too.

I might actually beat this letter home, depending on how long it takes. I’ll be flying in on next Friday, the 7th. Then I’ll take the train to the usual station and meet you there? Probably around 6. But if I get there before this letter does, don’t worry, I’ll just hail a cab and show up at home. 

I’m going to hold you to that promise. Feeding me the entire time. You said it, now you’ve got to do it. I can’t wait to taste whatever you make. 

See you soon! 

Love, 

Seb

Thursday, 6th July, 2006

Dear Sebastian,

He won't live to be one hundred.  We'll wheel him out the nearest third-story window before we let that happen.  Please forget I said that.  That's such a terrible thing to think about, isn't it?  No wonder mum's sister wanted me to come visit her and get forced into going to Mass every week.  Anyhow, even if the money is in his name only, at some point you'll be running the entire thing and he won't have much power except for his name.  That will be a nice day, huh?

Don't give me a lecture.  I said he “tried” to set it on fire.  Not that he did.  He was always nice to me and I'm sure he had a good reason for it.  

I cannot wait to see you!  I'll bet you'll be shocked when you see me.  I've grown a few inches and changed my hair.  Lost some of that acne too, so the old taunts won't work, I'm afraid.  I'll still feed you, don't worry.  I'm already planning to make some things when I get home later this evening.

Forgive me if this is slightly messy.  I'm trying to write on the train.  It's nice, traveling like this, even if it's only for a short time.  You still have to hold to your promise and take me around the world someday.  That's the only thing I ask in exchange for all the baking.

See you tomorrow,

Susie

Limited Warranty

Jim listens to her speak, brows furrowed, and decides that what Susan says does make a certain amount of sense when one considers this piece of the puzzle against all the rest of the ones already assembled. He likes a tidy roster, and favors one-on-one interactions. When several of his clients or associates begin interacting with one another, things tend to get messy. He is, for all intents and purposes, a scoundrel of a womanizer balancing several girlfriends who have all met one anothers’ acquaintance and become friendly. Bad for the nerves and bad for business.

“You have a point, certainly,” he allows, still regarding her thoughtfully. “Even if you are basing your entire theory off of one man’s personal preference.” Jim’s tone may be rather dry, but he has himself predicted the movements of others based on similar knowledge and not much else. Most hunches are safer to investigate rather than ignore, even if they are wrong, just in case they happen to be right.

Jim chuckles quietly when Susan amends her last statement; he hadn’t noticed or cared about the lack of proper entitlement; hadn’t noticed until Susan had corrected herself, but still doesn’t care one way or the other. 

“Although, if you’ll be so kind as to enlighten me: What makes you think you’re the one who needs to go sniffing around like one of my hunting hounds? That isn’t your job.” Jim tips his head to one side a bit, granting her the opportunity to answer however she might. Honestly, he has trained men to do this sort of recon. Her own brother is, in fact, his most likely choice if he does decide to send someone to go sneak about. 

“Why?”  The question is a loaded one, to be sure, until deciding again to just go with the honest answer.  It would later strike her as funny, that this line of work would turn her into more honest of a woman than she was previously.  “Because...well...because I'm trying to impress you.  And I will.”  She gives a roll of her eyes and squares her shoulders against any impending barbs.  “They're all doing the same fucking thing, all your other men.”  Her hand motions at the door leading to the outer rooms of the offices.  “Don't see anything wrong with just admitting it.”  Susan searches his face briefly for some sign of what he's thinking and blinks several times when she attempts to disengage his piercing stare.  “I know people, yeah?  And I'm a good actress.  If anyone stumbles on me digging around I can pretend to be some dumb tart looking for her boyfriend.”

Her arms cross in front of her and she nods, mouth quirking up into a half-smirk.  “Even if it turns out Cortez and that jackass are just meeting for a tryst, at least I'll bring you back some blackmail material, yeah?”

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If I follow you & don't roleplay with you...

'British Beetles and Their Foreign Relatives' (Cicindela campestris, Cicindela chinensis, Otiorynchus Ligustici, Pachyrynchus gemmatus, Pachyrynchus speciosus, Pachyrynchus reticulatus, Eupholus Schonherri, Carabus Intricatus, Carabus Hispanus). From ‘Curiosities of Entomology.’

Published 1871 by Groombridge and sons

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Small Favors || Jim, Susan, Sebastian

Sebastian always finds himself smirking when he meets Moriarty’s eyes. The man is an utter mystery, far too complex to pin down with ease, or even with considerable effort. But if Sebastian isn’t mistaken, and he doesn’t believe he is, he’d say that his employer seems to have taken ever so slight a shine to him, perhaps- dare he say it- grown a bit fond. 

This is a terrific development as far as Sebastian is concerned. Far better than his employer disliking him and giving him the shittiest jobs. Or punishing Susan to get to him. In fact, this is a best-case scenario, really. Or it would be, if something wasn’t blatantly off with Susan. Sebastian had already started to suspect, but her comment regarding the takeaway seals it in his mind.

“‘Course not.” He chimes with a grin, trying to avoid bringing any sort of problem with her to the forefront around their boss. If Susan is upset at him for something, she may be able to get him fired as quickly as she’d gotten him hired. While he only took this job to protect her in the first place, Sebastian is enjoying this new and exciting opportunity to use his skills, and he wants to stay.

"I’ll call it in. The usual?" Sebastian plucks his mobile from his pocket and calls up the same Thai place he’d called last time, though now that he thinks about it, Susan wasn’t there the last time he and their employer had Thai. She’d gone home for the evening, and Sebastian ate with Moriarty before doing the same. 

He hadn’t thought it strange then, but now he wonders if she had. He orders what he and Jim had gotten last time, and then tacks on Susan’s usual order, which he remembers from eating with her numerous other times. “Should be here in forty to forty-five minutes.” He announces as he ends the call and pockets his mobile again.

Jim resists the urge to snort softly at Susan’s point of contention, because there is simply no point in it. The expression on her face, though swiftly hidden, tells him all that he needs to know about his hunch. It had been such a small thing to put in her hands, but doing so had given her the acknowledgement he knows she tends to crave. If she chooses to act any differently, it is only thanks to the part of her that wishes to be contrary for the sake of it. Sebastian, for his part, seems to take it in stride.

"Fine," he says in response to Sebastian’s announcement. "We’ve got things well in hand. By the time it arrives, we’ll have earned a sit-down." All nonsense. What he says goes, when he says it does, and no one need not earn a lunch unless he explicitly declares it so. But he is proud of the work they have been doing, delighted by the strengthening bonds he has fostered between himself and the siblings, and he is perfectly aware how drastically a bit of positive language can influence the pair of them.

When Jim was a boy, he and one of the neighborhood children had captured cats and squirrels in order to make them the center of cruel and unusual experiments and other childhood games. They’d been patient as could be, luring the creatures with food and soft voices day after day until the animals grew acclimated to the boys, the cats warming to them enough to be petted and caressed behind the ears. It is a tried and true tactic, and the experience had served him well, to this day. The only question that currently remains is which of the Morans he will have the pleasure of caressing first.

Susan is not one to attempt to sully the due favor her brother has earned himself over her own petty jealousy, as vexing as it is to admit that such a feeling could even be labeled as such.  She had helped him and she knew that bringing another valuable asset into the fold reflected well on her, but the new feelings were unwanted and dug into her side the more she attempted to analyze them.

When Sebastian seems to take this in stride, she tries to hide her annoyance and get along for the sake of everyone, although she cannot help perching herself on the desk closest to Jim, like a child guarding a toy in case it is snatched out of reach by a playmate, even one as dear as her sibling.  She would usually be more self conscious, but she is all too aware that the work they've earned the meal for has mostly been accomplished by the two men while she worked on details for a different client.

“Come up with airtight plans then?”  Susan asks her brother, smiling as she tries to squelch the childish impulses that have been fueling her.  “You gonna get to blast someone's brains out from a distance or blow up their car?”  She leans in from her perch, grinning fully at Seb now.  She always did enjoy the more gruesome details of his work when he would be in a right enough mood to share them with her.  “We could make a bet on if the poor sod pisses himself.  I'll have you over and cook you dinner if he manages to keep it together before he croaks.”