Author's note: I do not own the characters used in this Fanfiction.
In fact, this is a non-profit and non-commercial text... although - BBC, if you ever want to make a special episode about Irene Adler and some of the ideas from here will be suitable for it, please feel free to use them, it would be an honor.
Kate was out - her family lived somewhere south of London and she would occasionally take a break from her job as an "actress", as she had apparently told them, in order to visit her parents. The Woman sat down in the armchair in front of the window and started to think about her next... client, as she liked to call them. At least, until they'd end up chained to the bed, hanging upside down from the ceiling or whatever else she'd decide to have today. After that, they could hardly be called anything else than her subject, and Irene Adler would make sure it would come to that.
Frankly, when she had started her business as The Woman, she had been excited, nervous even while waiting for her next client, but now she felt hardly more than boredom. Especially since her next client wouldn't be someone special, not to say exciting. He shouldn't have any information that might help her or anything else she could possibly be interested in, but in the end, it wouldn't really matter, would it? She already had enough information to protect her, and if she could have some fun without having to think about it too much, well, why shouldn't she go for it.
The Woman took her whip in hand und gently bent it to test if it was still usable - during her first years, one whip even broke during one of her sessions, and she had made sure to never let this mistake happen again. After all, it would be such a shame if the subjects suddenly decided to try to overthrow their sovereign, wouldn't it? She usually kept these people at her house for a day longer - so that any marks on the face would be less visible. Just a precaution, she didn't want anyone here who wasn't a client... Although it wouldn't be so hard to make any intruders her subjects. She'd done this before a few times, after all.
Irene Adler's lips curved into a smile at the memory of the burglar who broke into her house, searching for something worth a few shots of whatever drug he had been on. She had seen him as she left her bedroom (where her current visitor was kept at the moment) and had immediately knocked him out cold with the handle of her whip (while her visitor was busy with herself - concentrating on something else while hanging upside down should be rather difficult). Together, Irene and Kate had brought him into the basement. She had come back after she was done with her client in order to question him - of course, recording everything on her camera phone. But instead of being the expected Interpol or CIA Agent, he turned to be nothing more than a desperate drug addict. She had kept him chained to the wall in her basement during the following week as he struggled with his cold turkey. And even The Woman, who had seen - and done - a lot of things couldn't help but pity a man who would probably never have anything close to a normal life and spent a whole week on the floor, even going so far as biting on his chain in his frantic attempts to distract himself from the pain the turkey caused him.
After it was finally over, Irene had told her next client - who was supposed to come that night - to postpone the session and spent the whole evening simply talking to the thief. Not to subjugate him, not to have fun with him… but merely out of sympathy, and partially, curiosity. His desperation she had witnessed during the last week even reminded her a bit of her younger self…. Apart from Kate, during this evening he became one of the closest friends she had ever had - not that this number was very high to start with. Even a week later, Irene found herself replaying the recording quite often. Yes, "friend" was probably an accurate word for what the man had become. She hadn't had any special feelings towards him that went deeper than a good friendship, but then, she never felt stronger towards anyone.
That had been about two years ago, and he still sometimes came over for tea - and occasionally, some fun, after Irene had promised him to never chain him up , she could have easily broken that promise anytime, but, as it turned out, even a dominatrix could be compassionate. Not to everyone, of course.
Irene Adler laughed quietly. The last time she had been "in love", she had been in 9th grade. It had even worked out for about half a year. Oh, they had had a lot of fun, but eventually, she dropped out - simply out of boredom. A year later, her parents were both killed by a mass murderer. Even now, almost 27 years after their death, Irene was surprised at how much of a shock it had been to her. Her father hadn't played as a big role on her life as her mother did...
She still remembered the day when her mother had accidentally found her whip she had hidden in her closet. The young Irene had felt as if she had lost the ground beneath her feet. She had loved her mother, she really had, and she didn't know what she would think of her daughter now. But instead of the scolding, instead of the expected disappointment, her mother just pulled her into a hug and whispered quietly that she would always love her, no matter what. She kept her promise, and so did Irene, who took up the pledge as her own. Sometimes, she even allowed herself to admit how much she envied Kate for just being able to visit her family. And how she wouldn't ever have to wake up to a muffled scream like Irene had then.
It hadn't been a nightmare that had woken her up, she would've remembered it, especially since she was a lucid dreamer (and liked to take advantage of it). So what was it? The teenage girl had tossed the blankets aside, put on her dressing gown and hurried out of her room… to run into a man with a blood-stained knife. He had given her a surprisingly genuine smile. "There you are, my little darling… it's really nice of you to welcome me like that, that will spare me the trouble of looking for you….." And then, he raised his knife. "Now, hold still and I promise it won't hurt."
It hadn't taken Irene even a second to understand the situation. The man had killed her parents just for fun, and she was a witness, as well as the next in line. Unless she did something about it. The stakes were high, but where was the fun if there was nothing to gain? With that thought, she took off her nightgown, suppressing the urge to hide her body from this psychopath. It was important that she'd watch him closely…. And as his eyes flickered down just for a moment, the girl knew she had a chance.
When the police came about two hours later, she was exhausted and could barely keep her tears in. The question a policewoman trying to be compassionate about where her handcuffs came from asked didn't help either.
…A roaring sound from outside pulled Irene out of her thoughts. The Woman looked up and saw a car pulling into her driveway that, by the looks of it, belonged to someone very rich... and she knew exactly who the driver was. Time to make sure her client wouldn't use the car anytime soon.