Irene didn't know what happened. She had been perfectly fine before the performance. Her voice had been fine for her usual warm-up. She got into costume and then her maid gave her the throat spray she always used. Then she opened her mouth to sing and nothing came out.

She'd tried again but nothing. John ordered the curtain closed and then proceeded to get on stage and apologize. He then announced that Molly Hooper would be playing the Countess.

Of course.

Irene had never been an incredibly vain woman. She knew that there were people that could sing better than her and perhaps Miss Hooper was one of those people, but there was something about the way things happened in this case that bothered her. Irene felt that Miss Hooper knew more about whoever was writing these notes than she let on. Sherlockwould be able to figure it out.

Sometimes Irene missed him. A lot of the time actually. He was so smart and clever. Not to mention a fantastic lover. But she had wanted to pursue her career. She wanted to be a famous singer. And it wasn't as though Sherlock didn't support her. He did more than anyone actually. But she couldn't be a wife, a mother and a famous opera star. It just wasn't an option. It was one or the other for women.

God he'd been so sad. The sight had almost made her change her mind. Sherlock was not the person to sob and sob, but Irene had seen his heart break into two pieces. He hadn't said anything it was all in his eyes.

You should have told him. Irene said to herself. He had a right to know.

Shortly after Irene broke it off with Sherlock she discovered she was pregnant. She got scared. She went abroad to Italy and had the child there. A boy, named Hamish. He was a handsome little thing and Irene loved him from the moment she saw him, but she didn't keep him. He was adopted by the Destlers'. The family had been kind enough to take Irene in and they promised to take care of little Hamish. She still received letters from them about her little boy. He was 9 now.

Irene had thought about telling Sherlock, but he'd disappeared. And perhaps that was for the best, if Sherlock wanted to take the child he'd be within his rights, but that wouldn't be good for Hamish.

Hamish knew that his parents had not been married and that's why he lived with the Destlers'. He knew his mother loved him more than anything but couldn't raise him on her own. But he thought his father was dead. Irene had confided in Christine Destler the identity of Hamish's father, but Christine had promised that she would never tell.

Irene sighed. She wished she'd done so many things differently.


One minute Molly was dressed as the pageboy the next, she was being rushed into Irene's dressing room to play the Countess.

Molly couldn't deny she was overjoyed that she could play the Countess, however, she hadn't wanted to get the role like this. She couldn't imagine what Irene had went through.

"Molly, please hurry." Mary said through the door.

"Right, I'm almost ready!"


"CLOSE THE BLOODY CURTAIN!" John yelled. The dead body of one Joseph Buquet had just landed on stage.

God, he'd really done it. Well this was certainly a disaster beyond John's imagination. After everything they'd been through, how could Sherlock have done this to him?

Somehow, John made it back to his office.

"John," Mary said softly. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm not alright. I'm ruined, Mary."

Mrs. Watson made her way to her husband and pulled him into a hug. "Don't worry, my love."


"How could he do this to me, Mary. How?"

Sherlock didn't believe it. He truly didn't believe it. All he had done was sabotage Irene's throat spray. He would never kill anyone in a situation like this. The question was who would?


Sebastian quietly slipped back into the box he shared with Joanna

"Well done, tiger, well done." Joanna smirked.

"Anything for you, darling." Sebastian smiled.


So I decided to fem!Moriarty in this. Dunno she's just fun to write.

Review!

~Kate