With Greatest Care

Iren's thoughts whilst applying her warpaint.

-XXX-

Her fingertips skim the rows of garments, lingering for bare seconds upon silken fabrics, delicate laces, smooth satins. She had never needed the frilly business of seduction – the perfumes, lingerie, or other toys. Though, now that they are within her means, that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy them. Just as much as her other delights….Irene's mind drifts to her riding crop, which she recalls currently occupies the vanity. She's left it there this morning after a good polishing.

She needs something…bold. Something commanding – more so than usual. This was a man who read into every stitch and seam of a person's wardrobe. So her costume needs to send just the right message.

After deciding that the appropriate outfit for the occasion was not to be found within her closet, she trails back out for quick straighten-up of her hair and makeup.

Though the house is chilled by the winter air, she remains in her exceptionally sheer sage-colored dressing gown. The sensation of cold against her skin is welcome. Ivory gooseflesh aside, she appreciate the feeling of utter bareness that wintriness brings. It's oddly soothing.

Just as the ritual of applying makeup is. The mechanical way in which she lays out brushes, applies powders and magic liquids, blends, steadily applies various colors, it all brings her into relaxed state. A drawn sort of focus. The feel of a brush in her hands, swirling oh-so-softly against her skin, sweeping a line of rouge high across cheekbone – it's something so comforting, so basic. Mundane, even. Still, she regards the ritualistic application of cosmetics near that of a warrior dressing for battle. Her mascara her sword, the blush her shield. With each step, resolve mounts, building until she's staring into the mirror, eyes of glittering ice. A feeling of sheer might reverberates inside of her chest.

"Ready ready ready ready ready…."

Kate always arrives then. Before Irene can lose herself in the moment. Her timing is impeccable. She's prepared for the final touches.

"What are you going to wear?" Kate asks lightly as she opens the drawer containing lipsticks.

Irene presses her lips together, already feeling quite pleased with herself. "My battle dress."

The assistant laughs, pursing her lips together, too. "Lucky boy."

"Indeed." He'll be quite luckier still it he managed to make it out of the house walking straight after she's through with him. She's seen that face. And those eyes. Oh yes, if Mr. Holmes is half the fellow they've hyped him up to be – roughly one-third of what he himself believes – she'll be glad to have him at her feet within the hour.

"What color?"

"Blood," Irene answers shortly. Kate selects the bold scarlet hue and a brush. For a few moments, the lean into one another, one gentle in painting creamy pigment upon the opening bud of the other. When they are finished, Irene returns her gaze to the mirror.

"Perfect." For a moment she examines herself. Marvels at Kate's careful handiwork and her own perfectly composed appearance. Then she dismisses the assistant. "They'll be here shortly. I'd wait near the door, if I were you."

Kate nods and then makes herself scarce, leaving the room vacant, save for the lady of the house.

With the greatest of care, Irene removes the dressing gown, tossing it upon the bed. Traces one long line from her temple to her jaw. Gazes into the mirror, into her own eyes. Her body hums with anticipation.

"Ready ready ready ready ready."

"Ready," she whispers to herself as the doorbell chimes.

-XXX-

I've been away for so long, now that I've gotten a few spare moments I'm updating like mad. That, and I've no desire to study for finals. It's the holidays, so sue me.

Thank you for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed this snapshot into the mind of one of my most favorite characters. Please review!