ue arguing about the merits of how he went about saving her life. "You knew he was going to kill me?"

Author's Note: This is a fanfiction of Guy Ritchie's creation Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows. This story is pure conjecture on my part and is to my best belief how things would play out in my silly little vision of their story.

Goodbyes

As horrible as she was feeling, the silence between her hand Holmes was devastating. The world was passing her by at a horse's trot. And their cobblestone path towards the Liverpool docks did her no favors. Gone was the will to argue the merits of her remaining in London, but still she did not abide by the decision to leave England's embrace.

"Not a word from you in the past two days, tells me you are still angry about me and my involvement with your affair with Moriarty."

For a moment, Irene considered the silent vow she made two days ago.

"You will tell the Doctor that I wish him well in his new married life, won't you?" Irene told him, breaking her silence finally. Her gaze met his. He was rather dapper in appearance. More so than she remembered him being in his best-dressed manner. A little cleaner, though no matter how he scrubbed he could not remove all the rough edges of his appearance.

He pulled out his pipe. Out of habit. A trait of nervousness or irritability. "The first words you speak and you concern yourself with Watson and his family status? You must be quite angry with me. Well deserved, I suppose."

The memory of falling, struggling for breath. She watched helplessly as her former employer leaned over and took something from her. What it was she had no clear memory as she had sunk into darkness by that point. "You could have killed me."

Holmes lit his pipe and harrumphed in response. "I suppose I could have. It was that or let him do the deed with his pot of tea."

The matter was serious. Serious enough for Irene to contin

"Leave here and you'll be dead within an hour."

"Remember that bit I warned you about strings attached while dealing with Blackwood?" It wasn't exactly a gloat, but Sherlock wasn't being humble either. "It amazes me you didn't catch on to that earlier."

Irene didn't often carry a case with her. Typically, on her travels she packed everything in her trunks, trusting that no one that worked for the railways would have the knack or time to pick the locks. But today she only had a carpet bag with her. Always in sight. Irene always carried her most guarded secret with her. Well, outside of certain men. Holmes would have searched everything of hers under the right circumstances. But since he was busy trying to save her life, she doubted that he would have rummaged through her belongings.

The carriage came abruptly to a stop and the driver yelled: "Docks."

"I'll remember that next time I'm in London," she said in response to Sherlock adding a smile to the bargain.

"There won't be the next time. You won't be returning to England, ever again." Gazing at Holmes, Irene thought he was joking, but a set of his eyes was determined. Silently, they walked towards the ship she was leaving on. Her heart was heavy. She had failed in many ways. But more, she failed to impress subtly on Sherlock the importance he had in her life. "Moriarty's reach goes beyond the shores of England, but they are stronger here than anywhere else in the world. Even if I manage to defeat him, there will be substantial remnants of his organization here. He and his followers must continue to believe you dead, until such a time where I can render it completely inert."

Irene stopped short of the gangway that led up to the end of her stay and possibly the end of everything she held dear. "Just you and not with the help of Dr. Watson?"

"Watson is no longer part of this game, and neither are you. Please Irene," he begged. "Please get on the ship and go home and marry once more and be safe."

Holmes's words bit into her heart. The ship whistle blew taking her attention away from him for a moment, then she turned back to him, trying to memorize every line, every crease in his face. She pulled her hand from him and turned abandoning her dream and mission.

She got two steps up the gangway before she came to a halt because someone was tugging gently on her hand. She turned to find Sherlock standing eye to eye with her, his gaze full of passion. "I love you, Irene. If things were different..."

Lost in her fantasies, she allowed a smile and patted his cheek. "I know. Goodbye, Sherlock."

Before she could turn away, he had pulled her closer to him. He held her just as a husband would hold a wife. His mouth was on hers letting lose the passion she knew dwelled within his stoicism. Logic be damned. Sherlock was a man who was telling her that he wanted her with all his soul. Perhaps not wanted but needed. It brought tears to her eyes, this kiss of his. Because of her sake, he was sending her away. Perhaps forever.

As he ended their kiss, the ship's whistle blew once more and seemed more aggressive and impatient than the last. With his thumbs, he softly wiped the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "I'll miss you, Holmes."

"So will I."

Holmes released her and backed down the gangway. Irene turned and made her way up towards the ship feeling like she was loved by the greatest man on Earth.

There were no more words to pass between her and Sherlock. Irene waved goodbye, knowing hat he was correct and that they would probably never meet again. In her heart, though, she hoped that he was wrong.