Thank you so much for the reviews, really, really appreciate them!

Gotta love those moments when Sherlock gives us a chance to analyze him... hope it sounds okay! thanks

**thanks for the review Kalima.. hope my changes cover the oversight you noticed!

As Sherlock Holmes had sat in Mycroft's study, he had been at first quiescent and almost completely detached from the scene around him. The game had been seemingly played out; for in spite of 6 months of work, he had been unable to decipher the password that would unlock the seemingly innocuous-looking phone. He owed Mycroft and his people no special favours or loyalties, especially when he considered the shocking scenarios they were capable of; and his only real disquiet lay in the fact he had been unable to best his opponent in the game of wits they had been engaged in.

At the mention of Moriarty, the stakes of the game had dramatically and exponentially increased, for now there was certainty that the information contained would become the personal property of a criminally psychopathic mind. In a flash, his brain began to work at lightning speed, and within seconds the mystery of Irene Adler's psyche vanished. The key to her ambitions and character lay in the new facet she had just exposed to him—the woman who that had failed to entice him in spite of every effort to do so. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" as the saying went, and the knowledge of how personal the game had become to her was the Achilles heel he could use to end this game.

Cutting into her arrogant tirade he spoke one simple word,

"NO..."

"Sorry, what?" (It was satisfying to see the arrogance waver)

"I said No. Very, very close, but NO... you got carried away, the game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much."

"There's no such thing as too much"

"Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine. Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathize entirely- but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side."

"Sentiment? What are you talking about?"

"You."

"Oh dear God. Look at the poor man. You don't actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?"

It had come to him that Irene's sniping at he and Mycroft was the result of a venomous, bitter spirit that indicated he personally had become an object of her scorn, and that she could conceivably have carried that over into her password. Although he bore her no ill will, it was undeniable that he could not allow Moriarty to gain an upper hand. He stepped closer to the woman who had toyed with him, reaching out his hand to envelop her wrist, and leaning in to whisper in her ear, he showed her that he had deduced the effect he had on her,

"No…because I took your pulse. Elevated. Your pupils dilated. I imagine John Watson thinks love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very destructive."

Taking the phone he began to punch in the 4 characters that would render her powerless,

"When we first met, you told me that a disguise is always a self portrait, how true of you, the combination to your safe – your measurements. But this, this is far more intimate. This is your heart, and you should never let it rule your head." (continuing to punch the code)

"You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you worked for. But you just couldn't resist it, could you? I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof."

"Everything I said it's not real, I was just playing the game," she bargained with him, as she realized she had lost him and her advantage in all the power struggles she had indulged in.

"I know. And this is just losing," as he punched in the last character, and showed her the screen which showed the completed phrase.

"SHERLOCKED" - the woman who had tried and failed to win an advantage over him both in the game of "love" and the game of power play .. how fitting for her to choose to show her fixation with him in her password.. and how destructive for her..

Handing it to Mycroft, he made for the door after listening to Miss Adler's pleas; he determined he owed her at least his protection now that she no longer carried the deadly information.

Later, he stored her phone in his drawer as a reminder of the dangers of being flattered by a devious, calculating, selfish woman. It could have ended a lot worse than it did.