Psychotic girl
It was a warm summer's night in London. The sky mixed with thin clouds and the rosy redness that seemed to float above the skyline of the great city. 'Red sky at night, Shepard's delight.' Irene mumbled to herself. She closely watched the busy street below slow down to the seemingly calm tempo of the pleasantly mild night, between her fingers she held the edge of the thin lace curtains; running her red polished nails delicately along the pattern of the material.
In the distance a taxi appeared and came to a halt directly in front of 221B Baker Street. A mischievous smirk grew on her face, she closed the lace curtains; returning to her temporary hiding place.
Irene quickly yet gracefully exited the main living area of the flat, retreating to the consulting detective's bedroom. She wore only his dark purple shirt, matching underwear and her hair in the statement up do with her makeup identical to the first time they met. She lay on his bed; facing the door whilst resting her arm on the pillow.
Soon enough voices could be heard ascending the stairs, two of them she recognised as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson but she was not able to identify who the third man was, a trusted friend or colleague she assumed by their casual conversation and presence in the flat.
'We haven't seen or heard anything since then.' Said Lestrade. 'So you're expecting another crime linked to these.' Said John, Irene listened intently while she waited patiently to be discovered.
'Yes, sadly our hands are tied until we have more clues. Whoever this man is he is clearly very careful to leave little evidence.'
Sherlock had been extremely quiet since he entered the flat, she wondered if he had found her bait.
Sherlock sat in his armchair; focusing, immersed in the few clues the criminal had left him. At first the case he had been assigned had seemed completely simple initially, leaving Sherlock convinced that it would just be another boring, time wasting case, yet there was more to it than what it seemed.
A incredibly expensive diamond had been stolen, worth more than £7 million. It had been somewhat entirely secure in the Victoria and Albert museum of London. Their entrance to the museum was completely obvious to Sherlock (unlike the idiots at Scotland Yard) the air vent on the outside of the building had clearly been tampered with; even if it was carefully replaced the signs of a hasty removal were still noticeable. However the air vent in the room of the diamond was not, only the smashed glass on the floor and the missing diamond were the other clues, the escape was the same route as the entrance.
Something peculiar to his home disturbed Sherlock's thoughts, a single hair pin lay on the floor, his eyebrows knitted together in thought and concern. John noticed 'Sherlock is everything ok?' He did not reply, instead he rose from his seat and began to follow a very familiar scent, was that perfume? 'Sherlock?' John continued sounding more worried.
Sherlock continued along the hallway until he reached his room, the smell of flowers at its strongest he slowly opened the door.
There he found Irene Adler laying on his bed wearing his clothes in what appeared an attempt to invade his personal space.
His solid gaze remained on her whilst she spoke in a confident tone; too low to be heard by John and Lestrade, 'Hello Mr. Holmes. Miss me?' She smiled and stood up from the bed; encircling his neck with her arms in an romantic manner. 'John. It seems we have a guest.' Sherlock said never letting his eyes leave hers.
John walked to the entrance of Sherlock's room 'What are you talk-' He stopped talking when he spotted Sherlock and Irene in what appeared to be an embrace. 'Dr. Watson.' She acknowledged only turning her head to see the priceless look of shock upon his face.
'Irene? But you- your dead.' John said with complete confusion. 'Well obviously not.' Sherlock replied patronisingly gesturing at Irene and how she was clearly alive.
'How?', 'Someone turned up at the last minute and saved me.' She said whilst turning her head slightly sideways and looking into Sherlock's eyes adoringly. 'You?!' Lestrade said out of the blue, whereas he had been previously silent in disbelief.
'Miss Adler, I have no time for your childish games, I have a case to solve.' He said removing her arms from around his neck and returning to the living area. Irene followed ignoring John and Lestrade just as he did, 'Well if you haven't already deduced I'm here to help you with that.' Sherlock raised his eyebrows.
'How would you know about that case, it's not public yet.' Said Lestrade. 'Calm down I'm not the British media.' She said condescendingly. Sherlock smirked with amusement at her remark as she sat on the arm of his chair beside him.
With impeccable timing the landlady Mrs. Hudson entered through the kitchen, 'I heard you boys come in so I made you some tea.' She appeared in the room holding a tray with three cups of tea and wore a look of awe and happiness on her face when she saw Irene perched next to Sherlock. 'Oh, hello dear I didn't know you were here, I'm Mrs. Hudson.' She smiled at Irene. 'Nice to meet you, I'm Irene Adler.' She shook the elderly woman's hand.
Throughout the next couple of minutes the tea was drunk and the conversation consisted of the normal everyday subjects, Irene made an effort to join in; when on the contrary Sherlock stayed silent and totally emotionless, Irene caught him watching her a couple of times but did not comment.
'Well I better get going, I've got a date.' John said positively. 'Me too actually, better get back to the station, I'll keep you posted on the case.' After they left; Mrs. Hudson said 'I'll leave you two alone then.' Then added, 'Nice to meet your girlfriend Sherlock.'
'She's not my girlfriend!' Sherlock spoke with annoyance. Irene chuckled slipping herself into his lap and kissing him playfully on the cheek. Sherlock let out a sigh of irritation, 'So what did you need to tell me about this case?' Irene became more serious now and looked down into her hands. 'I know the criminal.' She said sounding worried, returning her gaze to his face. 'Who?'
She took a breath; speaking as she exhaled. 'Sebastian Moran. Moriarty's apprentice.' She then continued, 'When I was involved with Jim, I never met Sebastian; it was just whispers.' Sherlock listened intently, 'The crimes were not the only reason I came here, I think, he wants to kill you; just as his teacher did, and if he finds I'm alive, I fear he'll kill me too.'
'Thank you, I will not let them kill either of us.' The atmosphere had suddenly became too sentimental for his liking. 'If you don't mind Irene I would like to have a shower.' He gestured for her to remove herself from his lap. Whilst she moved she said 'Don't mind if I join do you?' She smirked slyly.
He ignored her and hastily retreated to his en suite shutting his bedroom door firmly behind him; just to make sure.
It was a few months after Sherlock's hiatus, he had spent that time with Irene, together they disassembled Moriarty's crime web and had defeated what they thought was the last organisation involved in early spring. It was now July and Irene suspected that Sebastian's power would have grown significantly during the time, making it far more noticeable than previously.
Once or if they were successful in ending the last of the crime web, there would most definatly be no more trouble from the recently deceased Jim Moriarty.
Irene would not admit it to herself but until Sebastian Moran was dead she was dependent on Sherlock in a way, she needed his protection, she needed him.
Once Sherlock had finished his shower Irene then had hers. When she returned Irene was surprised to find him laying in his bed; with space left for her, he was on his phone. 'They've found a witness we'll go to Scotland Yard in the morning.' He set the alarm for 6:30 and waited until Irene was laying in bed next to him to turn off the bedside lamp.
This reminded Irene of their days defeating the crime web, the days when they had no choice whether they slept in the same bed or not because it would appear suspicious. But something was different, she just couldn't quite put her finger on it.
'Goodnight Mr. Sherlock Holmes.'
'Goodnight Miss Irene Adler.'
'Sweet dreams.' She whispered.
They both drifted off into a deep sleep.
Sherlock was dreaming. He appeared in a large building with an immensely high ceiling, he looked around the church, he was surrounded by his friends and his small family (Mycroft and their mother) who were all seated in front of him. He turned to look beside him, standing there was John wearing a beaming smile on his face, 'ready?' He said quietly.
Loud music of an orchestra began to fill the church, was that the bridal chorus?! Then as clear as day a figure appeared before him, Irene. She wore a beautiful white wedding dress and an even more stunningly beautiful smile on her face.
Sherlock awoke with a start, he looked at the clock; it was two in the morning. 'Sherlock, are you ok' Irene said sleepily and calmly. He looked down at her, he was holding her tightly around the waist from behind. 'Mhm.' He replied much too quickly. 'You were talking in your sleep.' He did not reply. 'You said 'I do'.'
His eyes widened with shock and without thinking of what she would assume he abruptly removed his arms from around her and turned round to face his back to her. Irene felt his heat leave her body, but she was satisfied. She knew he was dreaming about her.