Hi guys! This is my first Sherlock fanfic. It's based on "Drunk" by Ed Sheeran. I was just listening to it one day and it came to me. Actually, I have tons of ideas and I just had to write it down. So I'm very sorry if it turned out a little OOC since this is my first Sherlock fanfic. Anyways, please bear with me!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, BBC or Ed Sheeran. Except the Idea.

Speakers pounding. Music booming. People drinking. Sweaty bodies grinding. Some other things not worth mentioning.

Irene Adler sat on the couch with her friends. Yes, as stupid as it sounds, Irene Adler has friends but she is not Irene Adler anymore. She is Rena Miller. Just an ordinary woman in the busy city of London.

"What's with the long face, Rena?" asked her friend, Kathy.

Irene(Rena) raised her eyebrow as she drank some from her glass.

"Oh, come on! Smile! For God's sake, we are not attending a funeral! Cheer up a bit, eh?" said Drew, Kathy's boyfriend.

She ignored their protests and continued to finish her drink. Her eyes shifted back and forth across the room when something caught her eye. Curly black hair. Her grip tightened as her heart beat fast. She leaned forwards to get a better view.

Impossible! Could it be...?

The man turned around and Irene shrugged off her shoulders in disappointment. She laid back on her chair. She thought it was him. She wanted to laugh at herself. He would never do that. He doesn't even know she's back in London.

"Alright!" Irene felt herself being pulled away."We are dancing." said Kathy.

"What?" Irene asked in confusion.

"Later, tiger. Wait for me." Kathy winked at her boyfriend.

Kathy dragged Irene across the dance floor where adrenaline was pumping fast and hard.

"Kathy, I don't want to dance. I just came back from the theater and I'm just exhausted."

Kathy groaned. "Rubbish! Come on, dance! And feel free!"

Kathy started to move her hips and swayed to the rhythm of the song.

Irene rolled her eyes and started to sway her hips.

Music pounded her ears as bodies swept past her, swaying and grinding with the beat. Lights and lasers covered the dance floor. They danced with their drinks on hand, taking a sip one after another. Before, she knew it Kathy was no longer by her side. She was surrounded by strangers but she didn't care. Her head felt light. Too light. Soon the music faded. People groaned.

Someone went up the stage. "People, no need to get mad. I just want to thank you for coming to my party."

People cheered. Irene sat at the bar as Cole, the one on the stage spoke. He was a close friend. He was the one who introduced her to the theater. They had been friends since they were kids. Irene smiled as she once again drifted back to memory lane.

Images flashed through her mind as she went through her childhood. She finished her bottle of beer. It's been a while since she drank beer. She felt the liquid burn down her throat. The bitter taste still lingering on her tongue. When suddenly our of nowhere, an image that stood out from the rest. She frowned. It should not be here. she thought. She found herself staring back at him. His cold blue eyes bore into her. He wore the usual long coat and scarf. His curly back hair was, of course, as curly as before. She smiled.

"Rena Miller!"

Irene snapped back to reality.

"What?" she asked as she felt the people's eyes on her.

"Come here, Rena and sing a few songs."

Irene shook her head. People continued to cheer her on but she kept refusing when she felt hands grab her. She turned to look. It was Kathy again.

"Come on! Go up! Sing!" said Kathy as she pushed her through the crowd.

Irene groaned. She knew Kathy wouldn't let her go. Might as well sing than face the wrath of Kathy. Sometimes she wondered how come she had such a stubborn person as a friend. Someone as stubborn as him on an average basis, of course. No one will be the same as him. He was different and he will stay different from the others.

She wobbly walked towards the stage. Her head felt light already.

"This is for you, Cole! Happy birthday!"

The song started. She hoped her voice would still sound the same. She wasn't sure if she can grip her voice among the dizziness but she hoped she can.

I wanna be drunk when I wake up
On the right side of the wrong bed

She remembered when she woke up with her hand in a bush of curly hair. She realized she wasn't in her own bed. Her chest felt heavy as she felt his breathing on her skin. The sun shone brightly upon him, making his delicious cheekbones stand out. That night was incredible. She never felt anything like it and she had a feeling she never will, not with anyone else.

He could have left her to die. He could have sat in his chair back in Baker street while she was in Karachi waiting for her time. But he didn't. After Karachi, she thought it was done. He was gone. She would never feel small again. Never. But she was wrong again.

It wasn't him that haunted her. It was the feeling that he brought to her.

Basically, she had fallen for the blue-eyed detective. She may never tell it to other people but she knew. She knew she did and she misses him now. She knew she would never feel that way again because no one can compete with Sherlock Holmes. Just like John Watson said, he will try to outlive God just to get the last word. She smiled.

How did she know? Well, she tried.

Her current profession was nothing like her previous one. Maybe it has one similar thing. She knows what her clients like. They cheer for her. They praise her. They want her. But it's not enough to entertain her boredom. She needed something more. Something more complex. She needed him.

Sometimes she would stare at the morning paper with his picture in the front page. She smirked. She remembered how those cold blue eyes swept over her, scanning her. Observing her.

She was always known to be a fast thinker. She can think faster than anyone. Maybe, not everyone. His electrifying gazes always sent her into panic mode. She always had to think a few seconds before retorting. She always seem to have this back swing every single time she gets lost in those blue eyes.

She felt her drink start to sink in slowly. Her vision started to blur a little. Images started to flash again in her mind. Images of him.

They were at the airport. He booked a flight for her to America while a flight for himself back to London.

She grabbed her things when the announcement spoke. She looked at him as she took in every detail of him. She would never see him again. She could visit him but she won't. She was not Irene Adler anymore. She needed to move on. She kissed his cheek in gratitude for saving her. She smirked inwardly when she saw his eyes soften a little. She started to walk away as if nothing happened. But at the back of her mind, she was hoping he would stop her.

She felt her phone grow heavy inside her pocket. She remembered their conversation.

"I'm not hungry. Let's have dinner."

"Bored in a hotel. Join me. Let's have dinner."

"I can see tower bridge and the moon from my room. Work out where I am and join me."

"I'm in Egypt taking to an idiot. Get on a plane, let's have dinner."

She smiled. That was her. She never gives up. Even though he never texts back except for one time.

She always wanted be the first. She always wanted to be the best. And she always thought she was. But she was wrong. Wrong again. He was there. She thought she would get over him as quickly as she would as to her other clients. She thought he would disappear quickly. Instead, he made his own image, etched in her heart. He burned her heart and splashed it with ice-cold water. She thought it would fade easily but it didn't.

Sometimes, she would think of going back to London. To see him. To feel his presence. To feel his blue eyes bore into her. But she can't. She wasn't Irene Adler anymore but that doesn't change her intellect and wits. Only her mask changed but underneath she was still Irene Adler. To everyone she was Rena Miller, the new rising star of the theater but to him, she was Irene Adler, The Woman.

She wanted to thank him. Thank him for giving her a second chance. For telling her she can still love. After what happened to her mom, she always thought she would never love a man. She always saw men as powerful, evil things until she saw her mom. She found this new strength in her to push on. To protect herself. But it all crashed down when the beast came out.

She realized she loved a man. The one and only consulting detective in the world.

Should I, should I?
Maybe I'll get drunk again
I'll be drunk again
I'll be drunk again
To feel a little love.

She felt dizzy. Her head felt really heavy. She immediately ended the song with a short "Happy birthday, Cole." speech and went down the stage. People cheered as the music started to pump again, gaining beats each second. She sat at the bar while Kathy was nowhere to be found. Irene shrugged her shoulders.

She ordered another glass of beer and took a sip. She laughed at the irony. She was drunk and she didn't feel love. She didn't feel his love. She always feels people's love when she was on stage but that doesn't matter to her. What matters is his love. She ended the song not because she was drunk already but because her eyes stung a little.

She gripped her glass tighter. She wanted to feel his love and he never gave it to her. She knew he will not give it away. The man won't even admit to himself that he feels something. Not for her but for everything. He always thinks sentiment and love are defects. Once, she did too but after realizing her feelings, she saw that they weren't defects. They were the absolute tools we use everyday.

If one doesn't have sentiment or love for anything, then you would simply not care about anything even yourself. But that's not possible. Sherlock Holmes was capable of caring and feeling emotions. He just doesn't admit to himself he does. If he does not care, then he wouldn't be the world's only consulting detective. He consults. He helps people when they are at their end. If he does not care, then he wouldn't be solving these cases. He just grew to think that his boredom and need to do something are the main reason because it is not. It must be accompanied by sympathy and care.

She finished her drink and had another glass.

But the man is as stubborn as a pig. He just simply won't listen. Just as she said before, he believes in higher power. In his case, it's himself. He would never step down and let someone go up. He would fight to get to the very top. That man is Sherlock Holmes.

She felt weird all of a sudden. She took another sip. The weird yet awfully familiar feeling was still there. She finished her glass, hoping it would die away but no. She had another full glass in her hands. Her heart felt heavy. She felt tears on her eyes. She made a wrong move but it was too late. She had already opened the door and there was no way to close it. This feeling.

Karachi.

She had this feeling when she had her phone in her hand. Typing the words:

Goodbye Mr. Holmes.

This was the feeling of utter defeat. The feeling when she felt like there's nothing she can do. There's nothing she can do to convince Sherlock Holmes to admit to himself of his insecurities because he is Sherlock.

Yes, Irene Adler was giving up and letting go. She laughed. She doesn't want to give up but she don't know what to do. Besides, she was a dominatrix. She moves on. Her whole world doesn't revolve around on man. Only her heart but her heart is not her whole world. Her whole world consists of her wits and brains and that is what she needs.

She finished her glass and walked towards the dance floor. She was a new woman. She had finally let him go. Her heart finally permitted her mind to take over again. She swayed to the beat of the music. She stretched her arms.

Freedom. Such a nice feeling.

She continued to dance as the music shifted from one song after another. But somehow at the back of her mind, she wanted him to save her. To save her once again.

Irene felt bad. Really bad. She tried to look for Kathy and Drew but they were nowhere to be found. She groaned. She wanted to go home. She felt sick. Like she was going to throw up.

She went out of the club. Warm air blew her hair back. It was dark while she wobbly walked towards the parking lot. Somehow, through her blurry vision, she saw her friend's car. She walked towards it but she tripped on some bins. She tried to stand but she was too drunk.

She started to feel sleep invade her senses when she felt a hand pulled her up. She tried to look at the man but it was too dark to see.

"Hey, baby. Want to have some fun?" said the man

Her heart beat faster as she cursed mentally. She tried to punch the man but to no avail.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down!"

"Get off me!"

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a party pooper!"

With one last strength, she pushed the man away. "I said! Get off me!"

She tried to run away but she fell again. Her body hurt and she cursed. Why did she have to be drunk? She felt the man's hands on her again but this time she heard another voice.

"Now this is a nice catch." said the second.

"I know right?" replied the first.

Their next words made her panic more.

"The others are going to be happy, I'm sure. They're itching to get their hands on a sexy girl. So come one! Help me!" said the first.

She can't do anything. She was too drunk. She felt herself being lifted by both men and dragged her away. She groaned. She tried to scream but it came out like a low groan. After a few seconds of struggling with her captors, she wore herself out. She just let her captors drag her off. There was nothing she could do. She let herself be dragged away. She was letting herself feel vulnerable.

All by myself
All by myself

Because she was alone and she was totally helpless.

Or maybe not.

She suddenly fell to the ground. She heard her captors groan. She saw the silhouette of someone, beating them up. She saw her captors fall to the ground before the man. She lifted her head, trying to see who it was. It was still too dark to see. She just gave up and laid her head back down. She wanted to laugh at herself for a night full of giving up. She needed to reward herself for that.

The man approached her. She didn't care who it was, whether he was one of the men or he was just a kind stranger, trying to help her. She was tired and she was fully entrusting herself to him. She felt the man pick her up, bridal style. He started to walk as he carried her in his arms. Wind blew and she caught a whiff of a very familiar scent. She knew this scent. With one last push, she turned her head to look at the man. She opened her eyes.

Curly black hair. Bright blue eyes. High delicious cheek bones.

She smiled. She was not alone after all.

I'm just drunk again
I'll be drunk again
I'll be drunk again
To feel a little love

So, what do you guys think? Please review! I am new to FanFiction and English isn't my native language. So any comments or corrections are accepted. Thank you for reading! :)