Chapter Three
I'm just burning through this episode, must be all the reviews :P
Sherlock's POV:
It was quiet in the taxi, Charlie sat wrapped in her own thoughts (worryingly enough) next to him, until John broke the silence.
"Okay, the smoking, how did you know?" Sherlock smirked, if for nothing else he kept the man around it was that he loved getting a private laugh out of John. He shook his head bemusedly.
"The evidence was right under your nose john. As ever, you see but do not observe." He said and felt rather than saw Charlie scowl.
"Observe what?" John asked as Sherlock reached into his coat.
"The ash tray." He flipped it in the air as John laughed before he slipped it back into his inner coat pocket, smirking. Charlie remained silent all the way home.
This was a serious problem, he had nothing to wear. He smacked himself mentally after he heard that feministic thought complete itself. He was standing ankle deep in disguises with nothing to wear for this meeting. Why did he care again? He thought about it and came up with nothing but a naked picture of the Adler woman. Jesus, this was ridiculous. A policeman's helmet? No, too obvious.
"What are you doing?" Came John's worried voice and Sherlock groaned.
"I'm going into battle John, I need the right armour!" He called back, stepping into vision wearing a luminous jacket and looking up. Charlie sat at the counter fiddling with one of his experiments he was about to yell at her when she looked up at him and shook her head firmly.
"Too obvious." She said and went back to fiddling. He nodded and disappeared.
Back in a taxi John spoke.
"So what's the plan?" He looked to his right, where Sherlock found himself crammed.
"We know her address." Charlie said as she re-checked her hair in the compact mirror she held before her, she pulled out her iPod as she replaced the mirror.
"Mycroft texted me." She said and Sherlock frowned. When was it alright for his older brother to text Charlotte Myers? Never, that's when. When had he been this upset about it? …? He puzzled over that one before taking in Charlie once more. She'd left her nun's habit in the flat. Without it she looked more herself. A professional black pearl-toned shirt and red pencil skirt ensemble would do nothing to hide her bump, which was currently the size of a small orange, however a mid-thigh over coat offered her some protection and her sensible flats gave her some running room. He nodded and relaxed back against the seat. Then remembered why he was angry and frowned again. Charlie was ignoring him, humming quietly to a song on that infernal iPod.
"So we're literally going to ring her doorbell?" John asked.
"Exactly right John. Just here please." The latter half was directed at the cab driver who slammed on the brakes and accepted his payment, allowing them enough time to leap out of the taxi before he sped off again. Stood on the pavement, John looked over to Sherlock again.
"You didn't even change your clothes." He said and they both looked over to a dancing Charlie who had begun to attract attention from some passers-by.
"Then it's time to add a splash of colour." He said and tugged at her arm. Mid-twirl she stopped and pulled out her ear phones.
"Hey, it was getting to the good part." She complained and he rolled his eyes. He directed them towards an alleyway and Charlie quirked a brow.
"Are we here?" John inquired, looking around them.
"Two streets away but this will do." Sherlock said smartly, knowing he was going to regret the next sentence before he said it.
"Punch me in the face." He said calmly and Charlie's head snapped up sharply enough to give her whiplash.
"What?" Came the simultaneous interjections from his flatmates. Charlie's iPod was officially disconnected and she burrowed it into the folds of her coat, shock on her face.
"Punch you?" John repeated.
"Yes. Punch me in the face. Didn't you hear me?" Sherlock asked as the pair looked at each other.
"I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking. But it's usually subtext."
"Oh for god's sakes…" His right fist shot out and caught John across the jaw. It was a good punch and it sent John windmilling backwards. Charlie's eyebrows skyrocketed and she hung back as John himself, once he had recovered, smacked Sherlock as hard as he could with his balled fist.
"Thank you." Sherlock spoke as he stood straight, his head ringing slightly from the well-aimed strike. It would appear that John had other ideas, as he continued punching him before clinging onto his neck like an angry monkey, causing Sherlock's face to go bright pink as he struggled to breathe. He looked over at a bored Charlie and indicated to the insane war veteran.
"Charlie!" He called out in a strained voice,
"I don't know if I could." She responded honestly. She was looking at John worriedly.
"You want to remember Sherlock, I was a soldier. I killed people!" John said and Sherlock sighed, despite the grip on his throat.
"You were a doctor!" Sherlock argued.
"I had bad days!"
Finally Charlie intervened and lunged at John, effectively pulling the crazy man off Sherlock and towards the alley wall. Sherlock staggered to his feet and looked at her in astonishment, still breathing hard. She turned and smiled thinly.
"Nurses are big guys, I used to knock them on their asses for fun… no offense John but you're nowhere near as big." She said and the doctor waved her off.
"Are you okay?" She asked Sherlock after a moment and he nodded. She clucked at his face moving closer and reaching up to dab softly at a point on his cheek. It hurt like buggery but he stood stock still while she checked him over.
"Nothing's broken." She said and her eyes softened slightly.
"Good." She whispered before stepping back and turned away. Sherlock wanted to call her back, ask her to keep checking him over. He'd even go through to pain just to make sure she was still touching him. He remembered the look on her face when Mycroft had… well, whatever. She hadn't laughed which surprised him, she hadn't jeered or even looked surprised at the announcement. No, she'd looked guilty as all hell and he was going to find out why… after the mission of course. Straightening up he re-wrapped his scarf. John cleared his throat.
"Right. What now?" He asked.
Charlie POV:
They watched from a few feet away as Sherlock, dressed surprisingly well as a vicar; spoke into the intercom of the house. Charlie had to admit, he'd make a fine preacher to look at, might have even convinced her to go back to church.
"He really is too good at the role playing." She said quietly. John smiled and nodded.
"Yes well if he wasn't we'd be entering by force." He remarked dryly and she sighed. They followed as Sherlock was allowed into the house. John spoke for them.
"I saw it all happen, it's okay I'm a doctor. This is my friend Charlotte."
Charlie nodded and tried to look worriedly into the house.
"Thought we'd sit with him until the police came. Have you got a first aid kit?" John asked and although the pretty, red haired woman before them didn't look entirely convinced by their act she nodded and stepped back to allow them inside.
"In the kitchen." She said and John went to fetch it. The red head smiled at Charlie in a predatory fashion and Charlie's eyebrows had another work out. She moved after John as they retrieved the first aid kit from a large, showy kitchen as Sherlock headed to the sitting room around the corner. John had her find a bowl and fill it with water, grabbing a cloth as they went to find him.
"Right this should do it…" He stopped suddenly. Charlie scowled as she was forced to stop suddenly with the water in the bowl slopping back slightly and wetting her coat. She looked around John and nearly screamed. There, in the middle of the room, was Irene Adler. If she'd been pretty in the pictures, she was nothing short of beautiful now. She wore nothing but a pair of killer heeled shoes and had Sherlock's white 'vicar collar' between her teeth. Said detective was seated on the couch looking as uncomfortable as he could get, which was actually rather nonchalant for a male in a room with a naked dominatrix. She nudged John lightly to stop him staring and moved to sit down beside Sherlock placing the bowl on the table and forcing herself to relax. Irene smiled at their entrance until Charlie sat down, then it became war. Previously Charlie hadn't liked her, now she hated her.
"Ah, you must be Charlotte, what a pleasure." Irene said, smiling like an alluring booby-trap.
"If you'd like some tea I can call the maid." She said and stepped back, her fine curves coming into view. Charlie just stared politely into her face after a quick perusal. Know thine enemy.
"We had some at the palace." She said shortly, glancing at Sherlock.
"I know." The woman said brightly.
"Clearly." Sherlock said lightly as Irene sat down opposite them in an armchair. Although still naked, the folding of her limbs provided more protection for an obviously flustered John would was still standing in the doorway with a thunderstruck expression on his face.
There was a moment's silence and Irene spoke.
"Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes? However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait." Irene said and Charlie snorted quietly.
"Last time I checked Miss Adler Sherlock wasn't a vicar with a beaten up face." Charlie remarked tartly and Irene glowered slightly.
"Please call me Irene, Miss Adler is too old fashioned." She said in a forceful voice she probably used in the bedroom and Charlie shrugged herself out her coat, affectively avoiding an answer. Irene smiled again after her own perusal. She turned back to Sherlock, obviously thinking herself the victor without a doubt. Charlie's self-esteem plummeted for a brief moment then she shook herself. No jumped up poxy was going to re-define her self-worth.
"No, I think he's damaged, delusional and believes in a higher power. In his case, it's himself." She leaned forwards.
"Oh and Mr Holmes if I had to punch that face I'd avoid your nose and teeth." She said making John laugh sarcastically.
"Could you put something on please? Anything at all…er…napkin?" He held up the cloth. Irene looked like a cat who'd got at the cream.
"Why? Are you feeling exposed?" She inquired innocently, leaning forwards.
"I don't think John knows where to look." Sherlock said, removing his coat. Oh and you do?
"No, I think he knows exactly where." She stood in front of them, facing John.
"Not sure about you, however." She turned to Sherlock, who handed her his coat.
"If I wanted to look at naked women I'd borrow John's laptop." Sherlock spoke calmly. Irene raised an eyebrow.
"You do borrow my laptop." John said annoyingly, oblivious to the slow sinking in Charlie's chest.
"I confiscate it."
"Well never mind," Interrupted Irene,
"We've got better things to talk about. Now tell me, I need to know, how was it done?" She sat down next to Sherlock but looked across him at Charlie. The two women stared at each other for a long moment before looking away and returning their attention on the detective between them. Said man stiffened slightly.
"What?" Sherlock asked.
"The hiker with the bashed in head." Irene answered, taking her shoes off.
"How was he killed?" She looked over at Charlie in amusement, obviously thinking her to be stupid as well as pregnant.
"Do you know?" She asked and Charlie smirked.
"Of course, it was simple however that's not the reason we're here." She said boredly and looked around the opulent room. Adler frowned, annoyed. She recovered quickly.
"No, no, no you're here about the photographs. But that's never going to happen." She turned to Charlie and smirked.
"Though I'd be more than willing to make some of our own, I would enjoy breaking you in… gently of course." She remarked after a quick glance to Charlie slightly protruding stomach. Charlie quirked a brow.
"Oh, it would take someone stronger than you to dominate me Miss Adler." She said primly making the dominatrix scowl slightly. John was staring at them open mouthed and Sherlock seemed more than a little dazed. The two women engaged in another round of eye fighting. Charlie imagined what it would be like to pull out that nice clump of hair at the front of her head. Then they smiled at each other and looked away. After an oddly tense moment John spoke.
"Sorry, that story hasn't been on the news yet…how do you know about it?"
"I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes." Irene said nonchalantly. She clicked suddenly, making everyone jump. John was glancing around the room. He took in Sherlock who was now watching Irene as one might watch something suspected was poisonous and didn't want out of their sight. He'd gotten up and the two women were now alone on the couch.
"Oh." John said, clearing his throat as all eyes turned to him,
"And you like policemen?" He asked. Irene smiled indolgently.
"I like detective stories. And detectives. Brainy's the new sexy." Sherlock coughed.
"Position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire, that and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head, that's all you need to know." Sherlock paced as he spoke. Charlie shook her head. A fain smell was beginning to form and as she breathed in her stomach began to churn slightly. She looked around to see if anyone else were affected but they weren't. She looked down at her outfit and slumped. Of all the days to feel sick her body chose this one.
"Okay, tell me, how was he murdered?" Irene asked, leaning forwards. Charlie grinned, despite her stomach.
"He wasn't." She said and although Sherlock looked put out from her interjection the look on her face was worth it. She looked puzzled.
Irene just looked at her like she'd grown two heads.
"You don't think it was murder?" Irene said and Charlie slumped on the couch brazenly. She looked up and met Sherlock's eyes briefly, her smirk widening slightly as his lips twitched upwards in what could have been a smile.
"We know it wasn't" She said.
"How?" Irene's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Same way we know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs I'm looking for are in this room." Sherlock said and Charlie decided to let him have a run, god knows he needed to show off before he exploded in frustration. Irene's expression was suddenly infinitely more guarded as she clutched Sherlock's coat around herself. Charlie couldn't blame her.
"Okay but how?" She asked.
"So they are in this room? Thank you. John, man the door, let no-one in."
He sighed but obediently got up and left the room, closing the door behind them. Sherlock began to recount and, for lack of better phrasing, showing off.
"Two men alone in the countryside, several yards apart, and one car." Sherlock said. Charlie yawned and curled up on the sofa, one arm under her head and her eyes shut. The smell was getting worse and she could feel her throat closing in effort.
"Oh…I-I thought you were looking for the photos now?" Irene sounded tense, confused perhaps.
"No, no, looking takes ages. I'm just going to find them." Sherlock responded coolly.
"But you're moderately clever and we've got a moment so let's pass the time. Two men, a car, nobody else…" She zoned out for a moment, trying her hardest not to throw up all over the spotless floor. That would mean defeat and that was something she couldn't swallow, not like vomit which she could if she tried really hard.
"Any moment now something is going to happen, what?"
"The hiker is going to die."
"No, that's the result. What happens?"
"I don't understand."
"Oh, well, try to."
"Why?"
"Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring me and think, it's the new sexy." He finished, mimicking her voice. Charlie actually chuckled at this. Opening her eyes briefly to smirk over at Sherlock who looked at little bashful. She winked and reclosed her eyes. Not before she saw a note of concern in his face. Maybe she looked as bad as she felt.
"The car is going to backfire."
"There's going to be a loud noise." Sherlock said frimly and Charlie could tell this was a signal. She braced herself. Rolling up to brace herself against the sofa arm and stare around the room.
"Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance…"
The smoke alarm began beeping violently and appreciation for the power of John Watson filled her. Irene's gaze flashed momentarily towards a large portrait and the tow genius' caught it. Sherlock called through the door.
"Alright John you can turn it off now!"
"Yes! I'm trying!" He shouted back. A moment later she heard the unmistakable sound of a bullet whizzing through the air and the siren went dead. Charlie, swaying slightly from whatever the smell was doing to her system, stood and moved towards Sherlock who caught her by the arm. The door opened and John entered followed by four others. "Hands behind your head, on the floor, keep it still!" The head called and Charlie bit her lip. Sherlock leaned down and whispered in her ear.
"Are you alright?" He asked and she shook her head tightly. He frowned but straightened. There wasn't anything he could do at this point. The man who had spoken had an American accent and even Sherlock seemed surprised as John was forced to kneel.
"Sorry Sherlock…ow!" John winced as his knee hit the marble flooring harder than anticipated. Charlie wretched slightly and looked over at Sherlock. After a small moment he reluctantly let go of her arm.
"Miss Adler, Miss Myers on the floor!" The American man commanded, and the two women knelt simultaneously. They smiled at each other thinly and Charlie grimaced apologetically. Head above her head Irene could only roll her eyes dismissively.
"Don't you want me on the floor too?" Sherlock asked.
"No, sir, I want you to open the safe." He pointed the gun at Sherlock, who didn't seem remotely phased.
"American. Interesting, why would you care?"
"Sir, the safe, now please."
"I don't know the code." He responded coolly, hands by his head.
"We've been listening, she said she told you." The man continued and Charlie snorted.
"Well if you'd been listening you'd know that she didn't!" Charlie retorted sharply earning a barrel to the head for her troubles. That got Sherlock interested. He scowled.
"I'm assuming I missed something. But from Mr Holmes' reputation I'm assuming he did not." The American said firmly. John looked around desperately and gestured towards Irene.
"For god's sake, she's the one who knows the code! Ask her!" He said. The American raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, sir, she also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm I've learned not to trust this woman." He said and Irene looked up.
"Mr Holmes doesn't-" She began.
"Shut up! One more word out of you, just one, and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, would be no hardship." He spat bitterly. Charlie looked over at Irene and smirked knowingly. The woman shrugged despite the situation. He paused.
"Mr Archer, on the count of three, shoot Miss Myers." He said and Charlie looked at him in shock.
"I'm pregnant." She said and the man quirked a brow.
"That really is unfortunate. Wrong place, wrong time love." He said callously and she snarled.
"I don't know the code." Sherlock insisted and Charlie began to .
"One." The gun was pressed into her neck and she was forced forwards slightly.
"I don't know the code." Reiterated Sherlock, an edge of what might have been panic to his words. Charlie looked up at him and smiled reassuringly. He had seen it, he just didn't realise it yet. He'd get it in a moment.
"Two." Hopeful now.
"She didn't tell me I DON'T KNOW IT!" Sherlock insisted and now she began to panic a little.
"I'm prepared to believe you any second now." Smiled the American man as Sherlock looked desperately to Irene who looked down at herself,
"Three."
"No! Stop!" Shouted Sherlock. He turned to the safe once he was certain they weren't going to shoot her and typing a code into the keypad of the safe. It clicked open and she sagged in relief.
"Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it, please." The American continued and Charlie's stomach swirled violently she groaned and collapsed forwards. Sherlock took the window. He turned the handle before facing John and Adler.
"Vatican cameos!" He announced, ducking as he opened the safe door and a bullet, then two, whizzed out into the room, shooting the man behind John as both Charlie and Irene made use of their positions and made short work of the two behind them. Irene just about killed the man whilst Charlie swung her legs and knocked her flat, his skull bouncing off the marble floor with a sickening crack. Sherlock snatched the gun from the ringleader's hands and proceeded to knock him out with a sound hit to the temple from the butt of the gun.
"Do you mind?" Sherlock requested, gesturing to the remaining conscious assailant. Irene shrugged.
"Not at all." She answered and knocked him out swiftly as Sherlock reached into the safe and withdrew a phone. John checked the pulse of the man who'd been shot.
"He's dead." He announced and Charlie slowly clambered to her feet. The world turned and she groaned. She fell and two males raced towards her.
"What's wrong with her?" John demanded and Irene chuckled.
"A woman's body is three times as sensitive during the state of pregnancy. Her sense of smell affects how her body's hormones react in certain situations and right now I have a mixture of typically odourless chemicals floating through the room effectively leaving her in a perpetual state of nausea which is paralysing her. We can't smell them but she sure can and look, she can barely walk." She said and Charlie moaned as she leaned back into someone's arm. Looking up she saw Sherlock and grimaced.
"Help me up." She said and he did. She stood swaying slightly and faced Adler.
"Well thanks for the national geographic lesson, keep it up and I will knock on your ass before you know it." She said fiercely, swallowing bile stubbornly. The woman frowned and turned away. Charlie patted Sherlock on the arm and went to lean on the sofa arm. He moved back to his original spot by the wall, staring at the phone in his hands.
"Thank you." Irene announced loudly in Sherlock's direction,
"You were very...observant. I'm flattered."
"Don't be." Sherlock said starkly and Charlie was glad to hear his voice was cold.
"There'll be more of them; they'll be keeping an eye on the building." He marched out, followed by John. Charlie staggered up and went to follow but Irene smirked. Giving her the highway salute Charlie stalked out.
"We should call the police." John announced as they stepped out of the house.
"Yes." Sherlock responded quickly, firing four shots into the air, terrifying a passing driver.
"On their way." He announced.
"You're mad." Charlie announced boredly, her stomach returning to normal almost the instant the stepped out of the house. He grinned before walking back in. John rolled his eyes and Charlie groaned.
"Oh for God's sake, please don't encourage him."
"Oh shut up, it's quicker than calling." She grinned. Sherlock nodded.
"Check the rest of the house John, see how they got in."
John darted off and she followed Sherlock into the room where Adler still stood in his coat. Her stomach was beginning to roll again and Charlie quickly sat down on a chair whilst the two talked.
"Well, that's the knighthood in the bag I'd say, wouldn't you agree?" He inquired coolly, flipping Irene's phone from one hand to the other. She rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.
"The last thing you need is a bloody knighthood to make yourself feel more important…" She teased, closing her eyes and placing a hand over her stomach. Somewhere deep inside the baby moved. She bit her lip worriedly.
"Oi, Shirley Jnr moved again." She said and he froze. She punctured her lip in the effort to keep from throwing up. The smell had gotten worse and she cursed Adler.
"Good or bad?" He asked and she shrugged.
"Can we leave now?" She begged.
"That's mine." Stated Irene, holding out her hand. Sherlock turned it on and sighed when he saw the lock screen.
"All the photographs are on here I presume?"
"I have copies of course." She replied defensively, voice sharp.
"No you don't, you'll have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection . Unless the contents of this phone were provably unique you wouldn't be able to sell them." He said and Charlie groaned. Irene dropped her arm.
"Well who said I'm selling?" She demanded and Charlie blanched, and not from the smell. That tone of voice was dangerous.
"Well why were these guys interested?" She asked, gesturing to the men on the floor,
"Whatever's on that phone is clearly not just naked photographs."
"That camera phone is my life, I'd die before I let you take it. It's my protection." She said and Charlie's theory was confirmed. Adler wasn't power playing, she was protecting herself and even more powerful motivator. John called them from upstairs and Sherlock slipped the phone into his pocket.
"It was."
The red haired woman lay sprawled across the floor. John checked her pulse as his flatmates walked in, the scantily clad dominatrix in tow. He gestured to the window.
"They must have come in this way. Don't worry she's just out cold." He said and Irene chuckled slightly.
"Well God knows she's used to that. There's a back door. You had better check it hadn't you?" She said to John who nodded and walked off. Charlie clung onto Sherlock who wrapped his hand though her arm and assisted her back to the original room.
As they re-entered the room. Irene moved to another place in the room Charlie hadn't noticed. She picked up a riding crop and moved towards them. Charlie felt her intuition scream at her to run. Her stomach finally gave out and she collapsed again. Taking the distraction Adler attacked. Sherlock had not chance. She was desperate and soon she had him on the floor. Charlie scowled and swore at her.
'Gheobhaidh mé thú bitch." She said as Irene retrieved the phone.
"Sorry I can't understand you, must be on a bad connection.' She mocked and turned away. Charlie watched her disappear. A few moments later the smell disappeared and she got up. Irene returned.
"Bitch, I will kick your ass and then I will kill you, revived your bleeding carcass and kill you again… Sherlock?" She looked over and saw him laying on the floor, twitching occasionally. She ran over and knelt beside him. John walked into the room. He was beside his friend in moments.
"Sherlock?" She turned to Irene,
"What the hell have you done to him?"
"Oh don't worry I've used it on loads of my friends." Irene replied airily from where she sat on the windowsill. John knelt opposite Charlie.
"Try not to let him choke on his own vomit, it makes for a very unattractive corpse." Adler said and Charlie ignored her. Instead she pulled Sherlock head up onto her lap whilst John rolled him into the recovery position. She was worried, his eyes were wavering in and out of focus and she looked over at John who shrugged.
"You know I was wrong about him. He did know where to look." Added Irene, Charlie wanted to strangle her.
"The key code to my safe."
John frowned.
"What was it?"
She smiled.
"My measurements."
With that she dropped from the window, clasping the curtain pull and using it to lower herself onto the street. John ran to the window as sirens approached but she was gone. Charlie sighed and stoked his hair away from his face. He opened his eyes wide and looked up at her for a moment. She smiled.
"Codladh sámh asearc." She said and he grimaced. Chuckling she stroked his hair. He whispered something and she leaned closer. Her eyes flew wide and he slumped back.
"What did he say?" John asked and she shook her head.
"Ná tréig mé a stór." She said and he tilted his head. She laughed and shook her head.
"Nothing important." She said just as the police arrived.
Eventually they reached Baker Street and after much manuevering of Sherlock's unending limbs, managed to get him upstairs into 221B. Her Aunt popped her head out to look at them as they passed. John taking most of Sherlock's dead weight whilst Charlie tried to be useful and direct his.
"Good God, what's happened to Sherlock?" She asked and Charlie sighed.
"He was drugged." She responded after a considerable thought. Sherlock chose that moment to half open his eyes and mumble incoherently. After a quick check up, and by quick she meant rough 20 minutes of having to stand around arguing with medical professionals, it was agreed that the drug would wear off and that it would be alright for them to take him home to rest. Mrs Hudson frowned again.
"Well if he needs anything, just let me know…I'll make some tea." She said and Charlie blew her a kiss. Her aunt moved off and the pair continued to lug their gangly friend up the stairs and into his extraordinarily neat room. They managed to lower him onto the bed and stepped back, exhausted, as he rolled onto his front.
"I think I saw a phone or two out." She said and John smirked.
"Wouldn't hurt to get a little humiliated." He said and she frowned slightly. After a second they both laughed.
"Right, the doctors said he'd need water so you get some of that and come back. Don't want to leave him unattended…" She said and John nodded.
"I'll go explain to Mrs Hudson…" He said and she smiled. There was a loud bang and she turned to see Sherlock moaning on the bed. More than a little bothered at memories best left for another time she tried to get him to relax. He flailed and she sighed.
"Too hot…" He grumbled, and she sighed, walking over to the window and opening it. A breeze swept in and he sighed contently.
"Better?"
He nodded. Charlie smiled and bit her nail thoughtfully as he drifted off again.
"You're a bloody nightmare you are, I can't believe the situations I allow myself to get into because of you." She spoke to the unconscious man. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her belly.
"Hm." She pondered morosely. He seemed unmoved by this so she grabbed a chair and sat down next to the bed. Remembering her new book she had planned to read she went and fetched it. As he slept she flicked open the first page. He groaned and she quirked a brow.
"Boomarang." He muttered and she grinned.
"Excellent." She murmured before turning back to her book.
Irene POV:
The damn bitch wouldn't leave. She just sat there and read. Occasionally the doctor would come in and they would have a quick talk then he'd go and the pair would be alone.
"Damn." She muttered. She really wanted to leave her present. Finally when it appeared Charlie wouldn't be going anywhere she slipped into the fire escape and crawled up onto the window sill. She knocked to be polite. Charlie looked up and frowned.
"What?" She asked and flicked another page.
"I came to return this, it's not really my style." Irene said, indicating th coat over her arm. Charlie smirked and looked up.
"What a shame?" She retorted and closed the book.
"Well hurry up, he'll wake up soon." She said and flicked a piece of that amazing hair out of her eyes. Jealousy coursed through her and she paused.
"Fine. I am sorry about the chemical issue but that phone is very important to me." She said and Charlie shrugged.
"You're just protecting yourself, I can understand that even if I don't like how it's done." She said and glanced at Sherlock thoughtfully. Taking this time Irene slipped in and replaced the coat. Both women paused as Sherlock turned over and woke up momentarily. As Charlie watched she walked over and leaned to stroke Sherlock's unruly black curls back from his forehead as he frowned in his sleep.
"Hush now; it's okay. I'm only returning your coat." She murmured huskily, flicking a smug glare over at the quiet woman behind her. Saluting her briefly she hopped back onto the window sill and was gone. Running through London was fun, messing with 221B Baker Street residents, even better.
Yeah! Take that! Oh I love righting conflict between these women it just so interesting. Hope you're all enjoying it, I know I am.
Translations:
Gheobhaidh mé thú- I will find you
Codladh sámha searc- sleep well my love. (note the my love applies they were or are lovers which I thought was appropriate seeing as Charlie's dominant side came out a bit in this chapter)
Ná tréig mé a stór- Don't abandon me my darling.
