Title: Would you be able to tell
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
AN: I did a re-watch of the original BR before I went to see the new one and when one particular scene came up it screamed Adlock to me. Can you guess which one?
-oo-
Now was a day as good as any, he thought. Commissioner Lestrade was waiting behind his desk looking less than pleased about the whole situation.
"You know I hate to do this, but I am stretched thin for staff since the outbreak."
Now was a good day as any to quit, Sherlock thought to himself. Instead he lit up a cigarette and watched his superior go on and on about the problems of replicant nature.
Sherlock inhaled the smoke and let it simmer in his chest, his thoughts on the current problem. The replicants or labor dogs in most cases. People didn't like them for taking away their jobs among other things. Sherlock wasn't too bothered by it because really people would always find a way to complain about things, for better or for worse.
The big corporations saw it as a good investment. Replicants could work longer and were typically stronger and could endure harsher environment, it just seemed logical.
"...and I am your boss, so I don't care if you feel like this case is beneath you, or not entertaining enough. You will do it. Am I understood Sherlock?"
Ah yes… back to Lestrade. The good man had the will to employ him all those years ago and now looked miffed that Sherlock didn't want to do the simple case of interviewing the potential culprit.
The said culprit may be a replicant as well, which did make things interesting.
"Come now, when have I ever said no?" he asked with a slight amusement in his voice. Lestrade on the other hand was having none of it.
"I don't have time for the cat and mouse games Sherlock, so the dossier has been downloaded to your communicator and for God's sake for once just do your damn job."
He turned and tossed a look towards Sherlock as if he was regretting the decision already, before emptying the drink sitting on the cabinet. Tough day for the boss. Sherlock knew he could be difficult but that was the point. If Lestrade wanted someone to kiss hiss ass he'd phone Anderson.
With that, he tapped his fingers on the armrest and stood up, annoyed at himself for worrying that the poor inspector was getting too stressed over all this.
Shrugging it off Sherlock tossed the cigarette in his full glass of bourbon, his fingers popping the collar on his coat as he made his way out.
"I'll have it done by the end of the day, boss. Don't lose any hair over it. You are already getting way too many greys for your age."
And he was off, but not before he heard a slight chuckle from Lestrade.
"I have you to look after Sherlock. Not an easy job," he heard the detective inspector say before he walked out. They had an understanding. Two straight arrows in the world of injustice and computers. Old souls, they would call them.
Be that as it may, the game was on and he felt the familiar excitement. It may be a simple case or...
"A good old murder," he said as he stared at the face of one James Moriarty on the screen of his phone.
-oo-
The outside was even worse than the inside if you asked Sherlock. Nothing but noise and concrete, with people bustling about. Always in a hurry, always somewhere to be.
"Time to get on with work," he said to no one in particular, before taking his car in the air in the direction of one James Moriarty. The man who owned the world. Sherlock was sure the man was as dirty as they got, but the power and influence deemed him untouchable. Still, he kept his eye on him through the years. You never know when the man could slip.
He was still waiting.
As his car made the stop at the top of the building, he could see power exude in every brick of the damn place. It was all oddly sterile and vacant. Not a bloody soul could be seen as he drove up the place.
He finally made his way to what looked like a reception. Low counter permitted him to see the face of the person or replicant at work. It was all very cold and professional. He should enjoy it, but somehow it made him feel even more tense and guarded.
"Good day sir. How can I be of assistance?"
The person behind the counter asked ever so politely.
A second passed. Then another.
"He is off site, but will be arriving shortly. My superior will be with you in a moment to escort you to Mr. Moriarty's office."
He nodded even though he couldn't see the man.
"Have a good day Mr. Holmes."
Replicant it is. Newer model considering how quickly he found the information about him. With that he heard a low and amused voice which was accompanied by the clicking of the heels.
Confidant woman.
"Mr. Holmes, I presume."
He turned to look at the divine woman in front of him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she waited for him to respond.
"And you are?"
Her face betrayed nothing.
"Irene Adler. I'm Mr. Moriarty's assistant."
She turned on her heal.
"Please if you would follow me."
She gestured with her hand and stepped ahead. He couldn't help but follow.
This was getting rather interesting.
Poised, powerful walk. He guessed she was used to being in control, likely was that way for a long time.
She had a regal posture but still looked as if she wasn't quite as comfortable in her own skin. As if something was missing.
He observed the business attire that somehow didn't go with what he glimpsed in her eyes. Maybe he was projecting, but the impression stuck. Damn replicants, it was always hard to notice the difference and she looked like she was top of the line.
"Have you had your fill Mr. Holmes?" she asked and his eyes jumped to the back of her head. She felt his stare. Interesting indeed. He didn't know many replicants who relied on their instincts.
Could she be human...
His gut said otherwise.
"So how accurate is your test for establishing replicants?" she asked casually.
He noticed that she moved on from her previous inquiry. He was glad - he didn't do well with small talk.
"Depends, but I would say 99% of the time I am confident in my deduction."
She led him into a giant meeting room. Cold concrete walls, minimalist design. Big corporate stick. He sat down at one of the chairs while she moved to sit on the other side.
"Yes, they say you are the best. Reputation is rather odd for one such as yourself."
He couldn't help but think that she was stalling and that Moriarty may not be coming at all, but looking at her he couldn't find it in himself to mind. Instead he lit up a cigarette, but not before he looked at her for permission.
"Be my guest Mr. Holmes. The air filtration system will rinse the toxins before they leave your person."
He raised an eyebrow, impressed with the technology. Those things rarely interested him because in the end, he has seen more impressive and strange things on daily basis working with Lestrade. So, he let it go, focusing instead on taking a drag from his cigarette.
The nicotine helped him relax.
"Would it be okay if I took the test?"
The question made him look up with surprise. Not many people volunteered for that one. He gave her a once over – one hand on her knee, while the other rested on the table as she gazed at him. No hesitance in her eyes. She was fascinating, he would give her that.
Still, he had a job to do.
"Mr. Moriarty is still on route. It would help to pass the time."
Now that was something. She followed his trail of thought by simply monitoring his body language. He exhaled the smoke.
"Why not?"
With that he took his scanner, placed it on the table and started to prepare.
"No notebook for writing down your findings?" she asked, a bit taken aback.
"It will all stay right…here Miss Adler," he said, placing a finger to his forehead. Irene raised an eyebrow in return.
"Good. Are you ready to start?"
She only nodded in affirmation.
"Alright, first we have to establish a baseline. First question..."
Before he managed to ask the question, giant window curtains opened to let the light in as he focused on her face. He was quite curious as the low lighting in the room hid her features quite well making it impossible to read her. Now he could see that she was quite a beauty. He shook himself out of it. It wasn't the sort of thing he usually cared about (or noticed). Pulling a bit at his collar suddenly he felt too warm. Must be the AC.
"You wake up, the day is Sunday. No work. It's early. Do you get up or sleep in?"
She took her time which he found compelling, considering these were mundane questions to help you relax. Unusually he got an answer in seconds.
"Sleep in."
He noted the way she said it. The way her lips curled around the words. Back to the test…
"Next question. The man lies dying, you are near a phone and a gun. Which do you reach for?"
"A gun."
Her answer was quick this time and he was surprised again. This shouldn't be happening. He knew she was just trying to confuse him but still he couldn't shake it off.
"Okay I got the base line. Now for some more personal questions."
She placed her other hand under her chin as she gazed upon him. Still relaxed, not an ounce of nerves showing. Interesting.
He found it fascinating how the light played with the locks of her hair and split the light on the desk before him. Almost like the fire was burning around her.
"Do you like your job?"
She took a moment before answering.
"Does anyone?"
A small laugh escaped him and he saw a small one stretch on her face too. Hm. Pleased to have her humor affect him. He snapped out of his haze, focusing back on the task at hand.
"Simple yes or no will suffice."
She raised a challenging eyebrow in his direction and he felt a smile stretch on his face before she said, "Yes."
Well now that he's established that all up until this moment was absolute crap he moved on, relaxing in his chair.
"After a day of work…how do you relax?"
She looked at him for a moment before glancing at his cigarette.
"Mind if I borrow a smoke?"
There were times when he felt above social convention. He didn't want to be tied down by the simple-minded goals and yet he couldn't tear himself away from the woman in front of him. Could it be that for once he was faced with a question he didn't have an answer to? Or maybe he deduced one already but was too afraid to admit it.
He didn't want to think about that so he focused on his pack, digging out a cigarette and handing it to her. As she leaned for light his hand automatically went for the lighter too.
The way she looked up to him then suggested more than he could understand.
"You have very nice hands Mr. Holmes. Not what I would expect from a blade runner."
The little quirk in her eyebrow made her look endearing – a quality he would never associate with her at the first glance. So many layers to peel and yet…there was work to do.
"The question Miss Adler."
She seemed to contemplate it a bit more, while enjoying the offered cigarette.
"Well it all depends on what kind of day I've had. If it was a grueling day, a good book and a drink are enough. Otherwise, I like to go out for a run or whatever I feel like to burn off some energy. You Mr Holmes?" she asked, leaning a bit lazily over the table.
Now that was definitely the train of thought he didn't want to follow. He liked the fire in her eyes.
"A bad thing has happened to someone you love, what do you do?"
She didn't wait to answer this time.
"I trap them in a meeting room of my evil boss and waste time making small talk because we both know I am just stalling for time."
He put out his cigarette and leaned forward.
"Mr. Moriarty is not coming, is he?"
She exhaled the smoke making a curtain around her.
"Well…considering he's lying in his bed with a giant hole in his head and a gun in his hand, I guess not," she said ever so casually.
Then there was only silence. But before she could even blink he laughed out loud. He was a weird one, she must have thought now if she hasn't figured it out already but this case… it grew more interesting by the second. She grew more interesting by the moment and he loved it.
"The good old criminal mastermind offed himself. Now that I did not see coming."
After a moment she snapped from her own thoughts, asking "And you do not find me to be a suspect?"
He scoffed.
"Hardly, but I do find your entire character something that holds my interest Miss Adler. I do hope you have more tricks up your sleeve."
After that her posture relaxed and she almost sighed in relief.
"I'm not sure what you know about him or his character, nothing good I'm sure. But you on the other hand I find, are much more than the reports I have on you."
He smiled - he had her attention.
"Good. I would hate to become predictable Miss Adler."
She stood up and he easily followed.
"Only time will tell Mr. Holmes."
Before his hand could reach inside his pocket to take out the communicator and call it in, she stretched out her hand towards him, the glint in her eyes back.
"Call me Irene... Sherlock."
He was almost sure she was a replicant, but also something else. Something more.
With that he took her hand in his and sure it might have looked as a simple handshake but their eyes said it was anything but.
"So, Irene..."
She looked knowingly up at him, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Sherlock."
He was looking forward to the mystery that was Irene Alder, but first…
"Would you please lead me to the dead body. I promised I'd have this case closed by the end of the day."
She looked at him like she couldn't believe he would be so casual and even eager about this entire situation.
"You are a weird one."
He only moved in the direction she pointed to, passing by her.
"That's what they keep telling me."
Her laughter followed him and he had a feeling that this day has turned into something else entirely, offering a whole new mystery to solve.
And now he'll take his time with it.