DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock and I'm not gaining any money from this work of fiction.Please forgive the grammatical mistakes because this fiction in unbeta'd and English is not my first language.
A/n- This is a small fic as gift for my friend, who requested for a Irene Adler/Jim Moriarty (Adriarty?) And I tried my best with this. Not my usually pairing.
Read on and review! :D
IMP: The present happenings are in normal font while the past is in italics

A small creak echoed across the room as the front door opened and closed.

The raven haired woman entered her tiny apartment wearing a long coat and a muffler to protect her against the strong wind blowing outside.

Closing the door, she removed her boots and went to the dark sitting room. Tired from walking such a long way from work to home, without switching the lights on, she dropped her coat on the floor and lied down on the sofa. Freeing her hair from the tight bun, she wove her fingers through her hair giving a light massage to her scalp. A small sigh escaped her rosy lips as she felt her body relax.

"Long time, no see, isn't it, my dear Woman?"

Irene sat up, her breath caught in her throat. She had heard he was dead, had seen it the news and even had it confirmed by the sources. Then how...?

"Jim? Is that you? "

The consulting criminal walked into the light coming out from the street lamp in front of the window. James Moriarty looked thinner, his face gaunt, and his hair a wide mess instead of the clean, sleek look it usually sported. However his voice still had the pleasing tone, which Irene had always found soothing.

"That my lovely Miss Adler is a secret. I'm afraid if I tell you, I might have to kill you."

Forgetting about her fatigue, Irene jumped up and ran at him, hugging him tight.

"I missed you, Jim Moriarty," She whispered, trying to hold back her tears.

Jim stared at her, holding her in his arms. He brushed back a strand of hair away from her face. Devoid of all make-up, she looked even more beautiful in the pale light. Her eyes glowed bright, shining with unshed tears.

"And did you mourn?"

"What are these tears for then, if I didn't mourn you?"

Jim smiled. After Sherlock had rescued Irene and arranged for her to be settled somewhere away from prying eyes, he had searched high and low for her. He still remembered when he saw the first time after a long time.

She had entered the coffee shop wearing a simple dress and a pair of slippers. He almost hadn't recognised her without her make-up and the haughty look on her face. However when her eyes met his, that smirk returned and he had known it was her.

"Mr. Moriarty." She extended her hand as she sat in the booth opposite to his. Without hesitating, he took her hand, placing a kiss on it. "Long time, no see, Miss Adler. You look... different."

"Good different or bad?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Different."He simply replied.

"You look different, Jim." Irene said, touching his cheek with one hand while the other rested above his heart.

"Good different or bad?" He said, his eyes crinkling.

She gave a small chuckle. "Bad, I'm afraid."

He waited without saying anything. Irene wrapped her hands around his neck, and standing on her tiptoes, she leaned forward reducing the distance between their lips. Sparks flew just like the first time they had kissed.

Jim Moriarty. Consulting criminal. A man who didn't care for anything or anyone. Yet, he was the only one who visited her or bothered to take any news on her.

"Mind if I come in, Miss Adler?"

Irene had been sitting in her bed, reading the paper. "You're already inside, why bother asking?"

"Manners do matter, don't they, Miss Adler?" He had walked over to her and picked up the glass of water from her bedside table.

"Oh I wouldn't know about manners, would I? Given my history."

Drinking the water, Jim smirked. "I'd agree, but given the past few months, I'm afraid I've to disagree with you."

Irene had set aside her paper and stood up. Drawing closer to him, she said," And have I disappointed you?"

Jim didn't answer. Instead he had bent down and kissed her. His lips had been soft and he held her in such a tender way that it had surprised her. She hadn't expected for the consulting criminal to be so gentle.

"No, I don't think so you have, Ms. Adler."

"Irene," She had whispered softly, once again kissing him.

"That is almost romantic. Quite unlike you, Irene."

" Kissing me was also quite unlike for a man like you, Jim, wasn't it?"

"I guess, we're unlike ourselves for each other, huh?"

"Yes, and unlike me, I love you."

"Likewise, love."