Any Advice?
Summary: Irene needs advice. Enter the only person The Woman trusts. Set during ASiB.
A/N: Just a quick little head cannon that hit me after watching ASiB for the millionth time today. Please read and review.
Irene Adler looked at the watch on her wrist, frustrated. Her dinner guest was running late. If there was anything that Irene hated, it was people schedules being broken. In an industry such as hers, time was money, and she had taken an evening off to have dinner.
She checked her phone, and was just about to send a text when a waiter pulled the chair out across the table, and her companion sat. Irene was going to start berating her dinner guest for being late, but instead was floored with an over ruling happiness that she was there at all.
Anthea looked up at the waiter who had shown her to her seat and batted her eyelashes seductively. Irene smirked as the young server fumbled with her napkin and then rushed off towards the kitchen.
"Sorry I was late" Anthea smiled, straightening the napkin in her lap. "How have you been Irene?"
Irene had anticipated that question, being it was the one that Anthea always opened with, but Irene didn't know how to honestly answer that question on this occasion. She was out of sorts, confused by her life situation, which hardly ever happened, and that was what had encouraged this little dinner date.
For the first time in a long time, she felt stripped of all her power. In her industry, sex was power, and Irene had done well in her chosen career because she was so good at it. Manipulating situations and entrapping men in her web came as second nature to her, had since she was a child, but this situation with Sherlock Holmes. It was the only one she had no control over. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted.
When she felt devoid of her own power, she liked to surround herself with powerful people. Visiting powerful clients who were high up in their prospective food chains or, like this evening, a dinner with the personal assistant of one of the most powerful men in the country, if not the world.
"Irene?" Anthea said again, and the woman shook her head gently to bring her back to the conversation she was in the middle of.
"Sorry." Irene smiled weakly. "I am just in the middle of a dilemma, and can't seem to work out how to solve it"
"The photographs of a monarch?" Anthea grinned, and Irene laughed. She often forgot that Anthea's job meant she was privy to some top secret information. Irene could speak freely with Anthea, and that made her very comfortable in the other woman's presence.
"One in the same" Irene grinned, raising her win glass to her lips. Anthea went to reach for the wine bottle, when suddenly their server was back, lifting the bottle and pouring her a glass.
"Well, this is new" Anthea laughed as she watched the young waiter, who was obviously watching their table like a hawk, make a hasty retreat. "I usually don't get the attention when sitting at a table with you"
Irene laughed with her. "Please, he looks to be about 20; of course he would go for you"
Anthea was just about to remind the other woman that she was almost 27 and therefore out of his age bracket anyway, but decided to take the whole situation as a compliment.
"Are we here to talk business then?" Anthea asked, resting her elbows gently on the table and leaning closer to the other woman. "Anything I can help with in the photograph case?"
"Wouldn't that get you in trouble?" Irene asked, genuinely concerned for the woman sitting across from her. Anthea would often go out of her way to help with things, breaking the law on occasion to do so. Irene didn't want to get her into any strife, as she seemed to really be enjoying her work as Mycroft Holmes' assistant.
"I am not afraid of Mycroft" Anthea smiled, puffing out her chest a little in bravado. Irene laughed.
They were interrupted by their server returning to take their order. Anthea dialled up the sex appeal and began shamelessly flirting with the poor boy. Irene, at one point, had to raise her napkin to her mouth to kid the escaping giggles. (Anthea had just complimented him on his belt, stating that it looked complicated to get undone.)
"Oh, this is too much fun" Anthea laughed at his retreating back, the poor thing red faced and stuttering. "I am only like this when you are around. You should visit more often."
"I would like to spend more time based in London" Irene admitted, and Anthea knew what that tone meant.
"You've met someone!" Anthea accused. Irene nodded slightly. There was no need to hide herself from Anthea. This was the woman she would always be able to be herself with.
"Oh, Anthea, I've ballsed this one up" She admitted, losing some of her composure. "I've made people angry, I've played the game too well, made some mistakes and I've fallen for entirely the wrong man…"
"Man!" Anthea exclaimed. In all the time that she had known the woman, she had been interested in female companionship. Professionally, she took both male and female clients, but personally, Anthea had never known Irene to be with a man.
"Yes, a man" Irene added, smirking at the younger woman's disbelieving look.
"it's Sherlock, isn't it?" Anthea asked instantly. Irene nervously toyed with her wine glass before nodding and downing it.
Anthea knew of her boss' brother. They had seen each other at a few events over the years. Sherlock always joked that she was Mycroft's wife and should divorce him as soon as possible, at least before Mycroft convinced her to carry umbrellas and eat lots of cake. Sherlock Holmes was an unusual man, but even Anthea would agree that he was attractive. The better looking of the Holmes brothers, for sure.
"So you've fallen for Sherlock, a man that is trying to get you to give up the photographs, and I will take it there is someone else involved. You said someone was angry… obviously someone you can't talk about" Anthea took a sip of her wine and developed a mask of pensiveness that she shot at her friend. "You're right, that is a tough one"
Irene rolled her eyes. When relaxed, Anthea was rather dramatic. "Any advice?"
"Ah, I knew you only got me here because you needed something" she grinned as their meals were placed in front of them. "I think I can solve this one for you."
Irene sighed in relief. Anthea was one of the smartest people that she knew, and whilst this meeting had been a last resort, there was no shame in Irene when she admitted that she needed the other girls input. "Well?"
"Where are your manners?" Anthea grinned, enjoying the upper hand. She had the position of power, and knew enough about Irene to know that that fact was killing the older woman. "Eat your dinner, order another bottle of wine, and then we will talk business."
Irene rolled her eyes and followed the agonising small talk Anthea insisted upon whilst they ate. They spoke of Christmas plans and new year's, her recent trip to America, a band that Anthea decided she loved and the new fashion for the office.
When their plates were removed, Irene pounced. "So? The plan?"
"Fake your own death Irene" Anthea said plainly, as though she was surprised the other woman had not come up with it herself. Irene sat back in her chair and looked at the girl in front of her.
"Fake my own…?"
"Indeed" Anthea replied. "Look through your phone book. I am sure you know someone who can help…well, you'll know what someone likes at least. And I don't know, have someone who works pretty high up in the British government doctor up some paperwork for you"
"It is that easy…?"
"It will get everyone off your case, give you time to think, or disappear, depending on what you need"
"You're a genius Anthie." Irene grinned. "Brainy, the new sexy indeed"
Anthea made an over exaggerated dismissing motion at the other woman, finished her wine and threw her napkin to the table.
"Was that all you needed Irene?" she asked. "I am assistant to the man who runs the country; I need to get back to work"
Irene nodded, understanding. Their dinners together were often cut short for that very reason, she was used to it.
"Send me a text once you've finalised the plan and I will get your death certificate organised." She leant across and pressed a quick kiss to the other woman's cheek. "Merry Christmas. Take care"
Irene watched her retreating back for only a second before calling out "Anthea"
"Yes Irene" the smaller brunette smiled back.
"You're the best little sister a woman could ever ask for" the dominatrix informed her. Anthea grinned at her big sister one last time before turning and leaving the restaurant.
Tell me what you think!