Just a Shirene fic, cuz I ship it so hard xD
This will definitely be continued, don't think I'm just gonna leave it there, btw
Enjoy!
Sherlock POV
There's no way I'm admitting defeat. Sherlock sat, eyes closed and thinking deeply. But the fact remains, I cannot to this on my own. Think…are there any other options? Any other person I could ask?
"Of course not," he murmured aloud. "I need her."
Cell phone in hand, he slowly typed in the letters: I need your help. He stared at the screen for a bit, thinking furiously of another way, any other way. But there was none. After another moment, he added, Let's have dinner.
Irene POV
Irene's phone buzzed and she glanced at the text that popped up on the screen. She allowed a second's worth of surprise and joy to flash across her face before composing herself once again. "He finally mustered up the courage," she whispered.
"Well, it's about time I head to London. I can't turn him down after waiting all this time."
Sherlock POV
"Sherlock, what the hell are you thinking? I can't believe you asked her for help!" John's rather annoying voice seemed very persistent, and Sherlock finally sighed and realized he would have to answer before the voice stopped. He looked up from his microscope.
"John, believe me when I say I went through every possible scenario if I had chosen not to contact her. There's no way I have the connections to solve this one." Sherlock turned his attention back to the microscope, ignoring John's next comment.
"…ou even listening to me? Sherlock? Sherlock!"
Irene POV
She had already planned the dinner in her head. If it went how she had envisioned it, it would be a truly amazing night with him. Of course Sherlock allowed her to pick the restaurant. She looked at his first text again: I need your help. Let's have dinner. She sighed, laying her head back on the seat of the airplane. What would Sherlock ever need help with? And why would he ask me, of all people?
Oh, who cares, the bottom line is he asked for my help. A moment of ecstasy sent her heart fluttering, but she quickly wiped the smile from her face and calmed her heartbeat. Composure is everything, she mused. What would he think of me if I acted like a foolishly nervous schoolgirl? I need his respect above all.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the pilot's voice was projected through the plane, "We will be landing soon. Please…" His voice slowly faded away as Irene snuggled back against her seat, fantasizing about the night ahead of her. I must stay calm and composed. Like always.
Sherlock POV
"I'm going alone," Sherlock put his coat on and ruffled the collar.
"Like hell you are!" John was right behind him, voicing that loud opinion of his. "I am not allowing you to have dinner with a psychopath like her!"
"She's not a psychopath, John. And if I don't go alone, she might not cooperate." Sherlock noticed for the first time his heart was beating slightly faster than normal. Am I…nervous? "I'll call you after our meeting, if it'll make you stop worrying over it."
He opened the door and jogged to the road, holding out his arm for a cab. "Sherlock, wait!" John followed him out, as Sherlock was getting into a cab. "Just—be on your guard, ok?"
"Yes, yes, whatever," Sherlock called, shutting the door. What a mothering worrier, he chuckled to himself.
Irene POV
Irene had spent all the time she could picking out the perfect outfit for her dinner with Sherlock. She spent 40 minutes on her makeup alone. The time was running out, though, and she finally strapped on her heels and left the hotel. I need to be punctual. Exactly punctual.
She called a cab and thought about how Sherlock felt about this. He would be angry at himself, for having to ask for help. But the fact that he asked me…does he have feelings for me? Was I really a last resort? Or maybe he's also excited for tonight…
The restaurant she had chosen was a good one; a great one. She took her phone out of her purse to check the time. Exactly punctual, that's what I need to be. She wondered if Sherlock would willingly pay for dinner; it was an expensive restaurant. But he had allowed her to choose, and he would've researched the restaurant before anything. If he'd had a problem with it, he would've said something.
Unless…no, I can't think like that. Irene fought another smile off of her face, squaring her shoulders and breathing deeply. If I think like that, this won't go according to plan.
Sherlock POV
What is this? Nervousness? Why do I feel like this? His heart was definitely beating faster than normal. Sherlock held a hand up before his face, noting the shakiness of it. This…isn't normal...why am I nervous? I'm in no danger, I'm just enlisting her help…
The cab stopped behind another, right in front of the restaurant. Perfectly punctual. Sherlock opened his door, and the door to the cab in front of him opened as well.
The woman who came out of the back seat was Irene, without a doubt. Dressed in all black simplicity with blood-red lipstick, she turned to him and smiled. Sherlock closed the cab door, and she did the same.
Why am I here again? He couldn't really remember. My hands are shaking again…is she the cause of it? Am I in danger here? I don't understand why I feel this way.
Irene walked towards him, and he walked to her. Her red lips formed a perfect smile. Sherlock had always observed everything about anyone he saw, but in this case something was different. He didn't just notice things about her, he noticed them. Her slate-blue eyes sparkled as she stopped, two feet from him. He stopped as well. She tilted her head slightly.
"Hello, Sherlock."
Well, there ya go! Definitely continuing, not gonna leave it at this awful cliffhanger, but let me know whatcha think! If the POV changes are a bit confusing, don't worry cuz I'm gonna cut back on them later on. Thanks for reading!