Sherlock swallowed as she eyed the large ring on her index finger. He glanced back at her quickly, his face clouded in indifference once more. "I see. Well, I suppose a congratulations should be in order." He murmured, brushing past her to look out the window.

Irene smiled, however, it looked a little empty and she was glad he could not see her. "I suppose they are. Funny how things turn out."

"Indeed. So, who is the lucky man?" He asked sarcastically.

"His names Ed." She told him. "And he is lucky, thank you very much. The one man that could get me to marry him." Yet again, her smile was empty.

Sherlock glanced down, frowning at her words, he too, was glad she could not see his face. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about your constant hounding and torture anymore. That's something to be grateful for." He murmured, not meaning a word of it.

Irene also frowned, did he really hate it that much? "That's true. It was getting old anyway." She responded, though it was a complete lie.

He nodded turning around, "Yes...it was." He paused a moment, taking a step forward before retreating again, "So, why are you here? Giving me an invitation in person? I won't be attending."

She smirked. "Of course." She pulled out a white envelope from her coat and passed it to him. "You get a plus one too, why wouldn't you want to come? Thought you'd want to know that I definitely won't be coming after you."

He took the invitation and glanced at it before setting it on the table, "Like I said, I won't be attending." He repeated. "Is that all?"

"Why won't you come?" She asked with a small frown, stepping towards him.

"I have no interest in seeing you walk down the aisle." He snapped.

"Why not?" She pressed further, unsure what she wanted to hear him say.

He faltered, realising how what he had just said might come off as sentimental in some fashion, "Because...it would be boring and...uneventful."

She chuckled softly. "Uneventful? Possibly the biggest event of my life."

"For you." He retorted.

"Don't you want to see me happy?" She asked curiously.

He paused, "Not really, no."

"No?" She smirked. "Great. Thanks." She said sarcastically.

"Anytime." He hissed. "Now, I'll ask you again, is that all?"

"I told you. I came for dinner." She reminded him.

He narrowed his eyes, "So you aren't happily engaged? After all, if you had been, why would you be here, if you weren't?" Observed, crossing over to her slowly.

She eyed his movements. "I am happily engaged. I came to say goodbye, goodbye to my old life."

"You mean to me." He retorted, grabbing her wrist with his hand.

She snatched her wrist back. "Stop it." She spat. "And yes, I suppose to you as well."

He glared at her and reached for it again, pulling her against him, "No." He growled darkly.

She glared back at him and once again snatched her wrist from his hand and keeping it out of his reach without moving away. She couldn't let him feel her pulse. She couldn't let her heart betray her again.

"What do you really want from me tonight, Miss Adler?" He asked lowly, bringing his hand up to cup her chin, forcing her gaze upwards.

She fixed her gaze on his. "Dinner." She replied simply, making no other move.

"Which kind?" He asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Which ever you want." Irene smirked.

"You know my answer. I'm asking for yours." He enforced.

"We'll I came for delicate dinner but I won't say no to indelicate." She replied.

"I already ate." He said simply.

"Shame." She replied before stepping away from him. "I'll go and eat with my fiancé instead then." She said, wondering if he'd try and stop her.

He grabbed her hand pulling him back, "I believe you said there were two options." He reminded her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, the other is rather indelicate though." She murmured, searching his face.

"I'm aware. Obviously." He spat, eyeing her darkly.

"Sex." She said simply, a smirk on her face.

"I know." He said lowly.

"So unless you're interested in that then I'll be going." She said, pulling away yet again.

"Have a drink with me." He offered stiffly. .

"You don't strike me as a drinker." She responded.

"I'm not." He answered, reaching out for her. "Please." He said, quietly.

Irene eyed his arm, she had to stop herself from walking back over to him. "Well how can I say no when you beg?" She smirked. "Fine. I'll have a drink with you."

"What's your poison." He asked her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Anything strong." She replied, brushing past him and onto the sofa.

"Wine?" He asked, heading to grab two glasses.

"Wine's good. Merlot?" She asked, leaning back on the sofa.

"Fine." He answered, crossing to the fridge and taking out an expensive bottle of merlot. He poured them each a glass and brought it to her. "Here." He said, sitting down next to her.

"Thanks." She muttered, taking the glass from him and taking a heart sip.

"You're welcome." He murmured, taking a sip. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, "So, how did you two lovebirds meet?" He asked acidly.

"He was a client. We found love." She shrugged slightly. "Same old story."

Sherlock frowned, "I see. Well, here's to the happy couple." He grimaced, holding up his cup stiffly.

"You don't exactly look happy." She observed, turning to face him.

He gulped down his wine, "Did you expect me to be?"

"I don't know what I expected you to be. Indifferent I suppose, this certainly isn't that." She pointed out, following his lead and gulping her own wine.

He looked down, "Even indifference gets boring." He muttered.

"Right, of course. Boredom." She smirked slightly. "Oh, how I'll miss your boredom." She rolled her eyes.

He arched an eyebrow, "Well, you are the one who wanted to have dinner." He snapped.

"Touchy. Touchy." She smirked, downing the rest of her wine.

He poured her and himself another glass. "Forgive me, if I'm a bit...derailed, by the news."

"I don't understand why though, I mean we had our fun, not as much as I would have liked." She smirked but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "And you know...Karachi." She paused. "We knew nothing would ever happen."

"You know that's not true." He hissed.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

He took a large sip of his wine, "You heard what I said." He spat again.

"What are you implying?" She asked, once again downing the wine.

He sighed, "Nothing, forget it."

"No. Tell me." She said, turning on her side to look at him properly.

He inhaled and turned towards her, "Can we just...enjoy each other for once...before I'll never see you again." He said quietly.

"Enjoy each other?" She asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, trying to lift the extremely heavy tension that had descended on them.

He glared at her, "Not in the conjugal sense, Miss Adler. Purely, intellectually."

"Miss Adler." Irene murmured. "I'll miss that. And I know what you meant."

"Me too." He said quietly, finishing his glass.

She gazed at him for a moment, there was so much she wanted to say to him. So much she couldn't say. She closed her eyes as she willed the words away.

"Well, I guess there's nothing left to do but get drunk, eh?" He said, uncharacteristically.

"That's the plan." She blinked her thoughts away and smirked, drinking straight from the bottle.

He arched an eyebrow, the picture of her mouth around such a phallic symbol a bit...disconcerting. "Right."

She couldn't help but smirk slightly as she realised how it looked when she drank from the bottle, she took it further into her mouth than necessary as she drank before easing it out and passing it to him.

He took it and eyed her before taking a swig, "Thanks." He muttered.

She simply nodded, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the ring on her finger.

He took another swig, and handed it back to her, "Here."

She took the bottle back and swigged it. "Good wine."

He glanced at the ring, "I don't get it." He said vaguely.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Pardon?"

"Marriage...I don't understand." He tried to explain.

"It's what two people do when they love each other." Irene shrugged, taking another drink from the bottle.

"So, you believe in love, now? With him?" He asked, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Is this about love in general? Or me loving him?" Irene asked.

"Both." He said, casually, finishing the bottle.

"How do you explain love? It just kind of happened really. Out of the blue, I wasn't even aware of it myself until it happened." She shrugged slightly. "And him because he's the only man that really counts, you know? The only one who is actually worth it." Irene was very well aware that she was not talking about her husband to be.

"The one man that...matters." He said, trying to be as matter-of-factly as he could.

"You could say that, yeah." She said with a small smile before taking another drink.

He nodded, "So why are you here with me instead of with him?" He questioned, looking at her before tentatively placing a hand on her left knee.

She looked down at the hand and swallowed, the alcohol hazing her brain. "I told you, to say goodbye."

"Well you could have said goodbye and left by now...yet you are still here, sharing a bottle of wine, with me..." He looked at her darkly.

"If I'm going to say goodbye then I might aswell do it properly." She murmured.

"And what is your definition of 'properly?'" He asked.

She mused this for a moment. "I'm not sure."

He reached his hand over to pull her cheek over to look at him, "Tell me." He said, lowly.

She searched his gaze, seeing as she could look nowhere else. "Tying up loose ends. There were a lot to tie with us...Too many." She murmured.

He nodded, taking his hand away, "Yes, yes there are." He swallowed as his eyes went from her lips back to her eyes.

She glanced down at his own lips. "So I came here hoping to tie a few."

"Which ones specifically?" He asked quietly.

She shrugged slightly. "There are many. I didn't have any in mind specifically. I just... didn't want to get married knowing that there would be nothing else for us. That that was how we were leaving it."

"I see. Well, do you want there to be something else for us? It seemed rather clear in Karachi." He murmured, pained at the memory.

She shook her head. "I love him." She lied weakly. "I just wanted to know. Curiosity I suppose."

"You mean to know if I wanted anything?" He tried to understand.

Irene nodded. "To know if there ever was a possibility of anything."

"Well, love and sentiment are clearly off the table, you've already found those, so what else remains?" He asked somewhat bitterly, his heart breaking that anything that might be left between them would have to be purely physical, purely lust. When he felt so much more. Still, he'd rather have her once and as his for one night, than never.

"So you never felt love or sentiment towards me?" Irene asked, trying not to let her voice betray her disappointment and heartbreak. "That's all I needed to know."

Sherlock swallowed and looked down at his drink. He couldn't tell her yet, if ever. "N-no...nothing like that." He lied.

"Good." She said quickly, taking the bottle from him and taking a deep drink.

He sighed, "Give me that." He said asking for the bottle. "So what does this dream man look like? Hm? Oh God, I hope he's not all buff and supermodely? Or a bodybuilder Who wears tight white t shirts and has a ponytail?"

Irene couldn't help but chuckle. "Nothing like that." She rolled her eyes. "He's a CEO of a computing business. Not as exciting as supermodel or body builder. Rich though."

"So he looks like a horse than?" Sherlock asked, praying it was true.

Irene laughed again. "No. He's quite good looking actually."

"How are his cheekbones?" He asked offensively.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Well I wouldn't cut myself on them."

"Hmph, sound like a clout." He mumbled. "I'm somewhat disappointed in you, Miss Adler." He continued.

"Just because you have pretty amazing cheekbones doesn't mean that my future husband has to have them." She muttered

He glared at her, "The lady doth protest too much methinks." He spat.

She glared at him. "What are you suggesting?"

"Do try and think, Miss Adler." He hissed.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "He might not be perfect but he's mine." She hissed.

He sat up and turned towards her, "There's no way you truly love him. He was a client. Therefore, he is a submissive. And while you dominate them for money, I'm confident in my beliefs that a sub is the last thing you would want to go home to everyday or sleep with every night. Face it Miss Irene Adler, you are and always will be a top who secretly loves to be topped. In every sense of the word. Physically, intellectually, hell, even emotionally. You like a challenge. It turns you on, in every way. A man that is a sub and that has the bore to choose being a CEO as a career clearly does not have the brains or wit or intellect of your level. He is business, business, business. And faced it dear, we both know how boring financial figures can be. He will wine you and dine you and be charming, I'm sure. Show you off to the world. You will go to party after gala, after ball, and you will be the belle of them all, I'm sure. But when it comes down to it, at the end of the day, you'll have to strip off your beautiful, lavish dress, and get in bed with a man who has mommy issues and wants to be spanked. Is there anything really more degrading or mood killing than a man who wants to be hit till he cries and then fuck? Besides, judging by his salary figure, I'm quite certain he's compensating for something downstairs. Shame. So, do you love him?" He chuckled deeply, "I think not." He took a breath, having spoken his deduction at rapid speed and took a chug of wine, needing the strength.

Irene just stared at him blankly for a moment, her mouth slightly agape. He was right. Of course he was right. She snatched the bottle off of him again and drank deeply before sighing. "You're right." She groaned slightly. "He's such a bore."

Sherlock hid a smug grin, "Thank you. That wasn't so hard." He replied, pausing a moment before asking, "So then why are you marrying him?"

Irene sighed and slumped back in her seat. "Money. It always comes down to money. And protection. He can give me both."

Sherlock nodded, slowly, "I see, makes sense. Well, lucky you." He said somewhat sadly.

Irene laughed harshly. "Yeah. Lucky."

He glanced at her and hesitantly reached his hand out to place it on top of hers and squeezed it lightly.