First of all I want to thank anyone who takes the time to read this story. This is my first Sherlock FanFiction, and the second one I've ever written. I've decided to make it a oneshot since my first FanFiction was begun over a year ago and hasn't been updated in months. At some point, life gets in the way and one can't continue writing consistently. The beauty of oneshots is that there's no further commitment to write more. This is simply an idea that popped into my head of what could've been on Irene Adler's mind seconds before her execution. I realize my portrayal of Irene is slightly off-character (for she normally wouldn't be so vulnerable) but I had to make alterations to fit the story. Once again, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it!

If I had a diamond heart, I'd walk straight through the dagger, never break the pattern. Diamonds don't shatter, beautiful and battered. Into the poison, cry you an ocean, give you all I've got.

-Diamond Heart Alan Walker ft. Sophia Somajo

She had never imagined it would be this way much less that she would find herself stuck in this situation. She was The Woman after all. She didn't give in to illogical sentiment, at least not until he came along.

"Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side"

The words that broke her resonated through her head. His words.

"And so here I am."

She thought to herself. She'd had practically won already. She'd played the Holmes boys adeptly, and given Moriarty what he wanted; victory had been at her fingertips.

"No."

"Sorry?"

"I said no. Very, very close, but no"

And with those words she'd watched her entire life crumble before her eyes as a dreadful realisation settled in; she had lost.

And now she was here. Hurt, both physically and emotionally. The Karachian terrorists hadn't harmed her too badly though. She'd been hit, yes. Kicked and thrown to the floor as well, but she knew it was the lack of food, water and sleep that had taken the largest toll on her body.

Her actions had taken their course and led her to this moment. She was going to die and she knew it. It was unavoidable. The Woman had made attempts to escape; thorough and carefully planned out in her head at first, then frantic and uncalculated.

One thing or another would always go amiss. Whether it be an unexpected bout of lightheadedness from attempting to run a long distance on very little food, or a dead end on a street, if you could even call them streets. After the adrenaline had worn off just a moment's hesitation had been sufficient for her to be caught the first time. The second time she'd had nowhere to run, and after that, it all became a blur. At least 4 more attempts at freedom had occurred after that; all of which had failed miserably. If only her body hadn't faltered, perhaps she could have made it to safety. She had been very close after all.

"But for how long?" she mused.

No, this was it. Even if she'd somehow managed to escape, remaining in hiding while she was still nearby would be difficult, who knows how long it would be before she found a way to leave the country. It wouldn't be long before she'd be found yet again. The terrorists had transferred her to different locations while in their custody. This one was an open space, even less suitable for hiding than the other places had been.

Another escape attempt would be futile. She was in a foreign territory, outnumbered, with no weapons at her disposal. She stood no chance against them especially with nearly every inch of her body already sore and aching. And so she accepted her fate.

"All because I couldn't keep any sentiment out of the matter. My job was to play the game, not become infatuated with him."

She chastised herself, but her thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that traveled down her spine as she heard the sword lift above her head, picturing it with all its sharpness and lustre reflecting a glint against the car lights that illuminated the barren dessert in which she would take her last breaths.

Before her imminent death, she asked for a final request. One last text. They conceded.

She grabbed a hold of her phone and began to type to the best of her ability with her shaking hands.

Goodbye Mr Holmes.

She kept her composure as she hit send and returned the phone to her capturer.

She closed her eyes and allowed a single teardrop to slide down her face. She was ready.

Ahh

An erogenous moan reached her ears. Her moan.

She opened her eyes instantly; knowing exactly what it meant.

Shock and relief washed through her along with a mixture of other emotions she couldn't quite pinpoint, but in that split second; she knew she was safe.

She didn't dare to turn her head in the direction she'd heard her own moan come from.

Teary ocean eyes never met steely blue ones as a million questions buzzed through the Woman's head. There was no need; she knew it was him.

"When I say run, run!"