(no subject)
Title(s): Nothing Satisfies Me But Your Soul
Author: julia_dreamer
Fandom(s): Sherlock/SPN fusion
Pairing(s): hint of Sherlock/John
Length: 659 words
Summary: “Dear Jim, please will fix it for me, that John Watson hadn’t died.”
Feedback: Always appreciated.
“My, my, look who’s here…”
“I haven’t got time for this. What, are you stalking me, Jim? Nothing better to do than roam the streets of London-”
“-waiting for self-absorbed detectives at crossroads? No, not a thing. But you have seemed busy lately, Sherlock. Too busy to play with me like I know you love to. Been leaving all the best cases to the Yard. What’s wrong, mm? Tell ol’ Jim; let him fix it for you…”
“I’m not here to play games with you.”
It only took the lightest touch of fingers on Sherlock’s sleeve to halt him in his tracks. “No one’s playing, Sherlock. Come now, you know how it goes. Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to get rid of that git Anderson. Dear Jim, please will you fix it-”
“You can’t fix it.”
Moriarty had heard Sherlock angry before, but never so quietly. The problem was apparent now - the bags under the man’s eyes, the pallor to his skin, the wrinkles where he’d pushed his shirtsleeve up to make way for the needle - and Jim’s lip quirked upward unpleasantly.
“Dear Jim, please will fix it for me, that John Watson hadn’t died.”
There was the rage he’d expected to see at the beginning, Sherlock’s eyes welling up with hatred at the taunt. Jim raised a hand to stop him.
“Now, you’re very angry. How could I say something like that? So insensitive. But I could fix it for you, Sherlock, if you were willing to pay the price.”
“He’s dead,” he whispered, and the sense of cold finality in that statement made Jim’s heart ache for him, really.
Jim smiled, and blinked, and his eyes went solid red. Sherlock’s own eyes widened, and the demon knew the man hadn’t expected that at all.
“Now, is this something you want, Sherlock? Because I can fix it for you. You only need to say the words. And, of course, there’s a small matter of payment, but it’s nothing, really…”
“Why would you help me?”
“It’s not help if you pay me, love, it’s good business.” Jim grinned, eyes flickering back to normal. He was so close to sealing this deal. It had been an epic struggle, really - and having John Watson killed had been surprisingly difficult, plus Sherlock following his every move - but it was going to pay off, enormously.
Those grey eyes were still flat and dull, not calculating. Not really caring. “What would it cost?”
“Oh, a simple little thing, really. Just your soul.” Sherlock looked about to speak, but Jim shook his head. “You wouldn’t miss it. And besides, you’ll have John back. A long, happy life with the man you love? Isn’t that worth it? I’ll even make you a special deal, because I just like you so much, Sherlock. Usually I only give people ten years - it’s standard, really - but for you? The whole rest of your life. As if this had never happened.”
He could see the gears working in that brilliant mind. If not for the drugs, if not for the pain and the grief, it would never have worked. But Jim had been in the business too long to miss the tiny details. This was the perfect moment.
“If I say yes?”
“We kiss to seal the deal, John comes back, and you both go merrily on your way. No need to mention this ever happened. I won’t even expect you to stop chasing me.”
Those eyes stopped darting, finally focused. A decision finally reached.
“Alright. Deal.”
Jim grinned and leaned up to press their lips together in a decidedly unchaste kiss. Across the city, John Watson woke with a start on the morgue table, just before Molly could zip the body bag shut. Sherlock broke away like a man coming out of a trance, but Jim didn’t pay attention. He’d gotten what he’d worked so hard for, he’d succeeded at last.
Jackpot.
Author: julia_dreamer
Fandom(s): Sherlock/SPN fusion
Pairing(s): hint of Sherlock/John
Length: 659 words
Summary: “Dear Jim, please will fix it for me, that John Watson hadn’t died.”
Feedback: Always appreciated.
“My, my, look who’s here…”
“I haven’t got time for this. What, are you stalking me, Jim? Nothing better to do than roam the streets of London-”
“-waiting for self-absorbed detectives at crossroads? No, not a thing. But you have seemed busy lately, Sherlock. Too busy to play with me like I know you love to. Been leaving all the best cases to the Yard. What’s wrong, mm? Tell ol’ Jim; let him fix it for you…”
“I’m not here to play games with you.”
It only took the lightest touch of fingers on Sherlock’s sleeve to halt him in his tracks. “No one’s playing, Sherlock. Come now, you know how it goes. Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to get rid of that git Anderson. Dear Jim, please will you fix it-”
“You can’t fix it.”
Moriarty had heard Sherlock angry before, but never so quietly. The problem was apparent now - the bags under the man’s eyes, the pallor to his skin, the wrinkles where he’d pushed his shirtsleeve up to make way for the needle - and Jim’s lip quirked upward unpleasantly.
“Dear Jim, please will fix it for me, that John Watson hadn’t died.”
There was the rage he’d expected to see at the beginning, Sherlock’s eyes welling up with hatred at the taunt. Jim raised a hand to stop him.
“Now, you’re very angry. How could I say something like that? So insensitive. But I could fix it for you, Sherlock, if you were willing to pay the price.”
“He’s dead,” he whispered, and the sense of cold finality in that statement made Jim’s heart ache for him, really.
Jim smiled, and blinked, and his eyes went solid red. Sherlock’s own eyes widened, and the demon knew the man hadn’t expected that at all.
“Now, is this something you want, Sherlock? Because I can fix it for you. You only need to say the words. And, of course, there’s a small matter of payment, but it’s nothing, really…”
“Why would you help me?”
“It’s not help if you pay me, love, it’s good business.” Jim grinned, eyes flickering back to normal. He was so close to sealing this deal. It had been an epic struggle, really - and having John Watson killed had been surprisingly difficult, plus Sherlock following his every move - but it was going to pay off, enormously.
Those grey eyes were still flat and dull, not calculating. Not really caring. “What would it cost?”
“Oh, a simple little thing, really. Just your soul.” Sherlock looked about to speak, but Jim shook his head. “You wouldn’t miss it. And besides, you’ll have John back. A long, happy life with the man you love? Isn’t that worth it? I’ll even make you a special deal, because I just like you so much, Sherlock. Usually I only give people ten years - it’s standard, really - but for you? The whole rest of your life. As if this had never happened.”
He could see the gears working in that brilliant mind. If not for the drugs, if not for the pain and the grief, it would never have worked. But Jim had been in the business too long to miss the tiny details. This was the perfect moment.
“If I say yes?”
“We kiss to seal the deal, John comes back, and you both go merrily on your way. No need to mention this ever happened. I won’t even expect you to stop chasing me.”
Those eyes stopped darting, finally focused. A decision finally reached.
“Alright. Deal.”
Jim grinned and leaned up to press their lips together in a decidedly unchaste kiss. Across the city, John Watson woke with a start on the morgue table, just before Molly could zip the body bag shut. Sherlock broke away like a man coming out of a trance, but Jim didn’t pay attention. He’d gotten what he’d worked so hard for, he’d succeeded at last.
Jackpot.