Chapter 10 is out! Irene Adler is now making her Grand entrance! Which means things are going to get more interesting concerning OC! Make sure you're playing close attention from here on out, I'll try to make it easy to understand but other than having some leverage against Sherlock, Jim does have his own seperate reasons to being drawn to Adele. And remember bold is flashbacks okay? Thanks sooooo much to those who have fav'd/follow both my story and myself. It really is nice to know people like to read what I write:

The Miffe Writer

tatiyanaross

Diamondtearsx

Marie Chandler

PsychoBeachGirl88

CayCay1996

Blahurface

NightWindAlcchemist

EffyinNeverland

Deductions-of-Sherlolly

niteshine

RoseWatch2

yellow-eye-demon

(SOOOOO MANY PEHPOLES! MAKES MEH HAPPEE!)

And to Deductions-of-Sherlolly and PsychoBeachGirl88: Thank you so much for your reviews! Lets me know the story is pleasing and keeps me writing. Im very glad you are enjoying it thus far!

Irene Adler and Jealousy

Payphones: germy, disgusting, nasty, spying, and awful technology. I had a hundred more insults to give the stupid thing, standing there in the middle of the side walk all confidently, knowing it owned that little strip of sidewalk, but I had to call mom and fast. Punching the numbers shakily I felt like I was being closed and swallowed up, like a package being filled with packing peanuts and taped up to be shut away in the dark depths of a plane's cargo. I had actually waited two weeks after being discharged from the hospital to call. I needed to do this, it was now or never. And I couldn't afford never.

Riiiinggg. I know you're there so pick up.

Riiiiiiiiingggg. C'mon, I'll hang up and you'll just keep thinking I'm dead.

Riiiinnnnnnnggg. I'll just leave a message then…

"Hello?" Mom's voice rang through the other end, like she had been rushing around in a hurry.

"It's me." I said quickly, shifting uncomfortably, 'Q' was clawing at my brains, scratching at all the bugs I was letting in through my ears. I told him to stop or I would die, to which he responded 'good!'.

"Adele? Jesus! Why haven't you been paging!? We thought something horrible had happened! Frank! Frank! Get over here, it's Adele!" I closed my eyes, sighing. She knew how much I hated phones, why would she try to get the entire house to come on over and have a 'nice chat'.

"You're land lady said you were in the hospital! Did you have an episode? Do you need us to come get you? Are you feeling okay?" Millions of millions of questions.

Major mom is gonna get you, and she'll lock you away in your dark room. –Q

I don't like her. –Rachel

She was never there. –Rachel

Be quiet, she's always there. -Adele

Because she has to be. –Q

"Okay first off, be quiet and let me explain. I was just busy with work, which I got fired from so I was doing a lot of job hunting. I was in the hospital because…I ate something bad." I really hoped they didn't already know the details. If even a hint of me lying was given off they'd be here to take me away in a heartbeat.

"You were fired? Why? Do you need us to wire you money?" Dad said, talking over mom.

"Because I wasn't good at my job." Lies and more lies, digging my hole so much deeper. "And no, I don't need you to wire me money. I'm fine." I hung up quickly, wrapping my scarf tightly around my neck so that nobody could see me rubbing it back and forth against my scalp and neck.

"Miss Banks?" I glanced around my shoulder, coming face to face with two rather big men in suits.

"Uh, yes?" Oh god, the government's onto me! I side glanced to escape.

"We're going to need you to come with us." Yeah, there was no way that was going to happen. With a horrible and futile attempt I dodged to the side, to which the burly man flicked his arm out, catching me effortlessly.

"Ma'am do not make this harder than it has to be." I kicked my legs which had been tightly secured in the second man's vice grip. It made me look like a retarded mermaid. Arms flying around I started screaming, damn right I was going to make a scene. A very nice scene.

John

The Buckingham Palace, grand in every aspect. Except for a naked guy wrapped in his sheets sitting on one of the extravagant sofas. And if that couldn't be strange enough, Adele had been carted in by two men. One hoisting her up by her waist, arms pasted to her sides. The other, holding her legs. Adele's mouth had been taped shut. Here eyes swiveled madly in her skull, poor thing was a panicked mess.

The guards placed her gently on the adjacent sofa, pulling the tape roughly from her mouth as if saying: you-deserved-it-for-being-such-a-brat. Then promptly left without uttering a word.

Adele rolled off the sofa, landing hard on the floor with a loud 'thump,' steadying herself on the coffee table, her eyes slanted as she stared angrily around the room. When he found out she was schizophrenic, he felt sorry for her.

Sherlock explained what it might be like in her mind, her emotions, her thoughts. He wondered if she lived in constant fear of herself. Yet John had to admit he didn't catch onto her act at all. She'd done very well. Well enough to fool Sherlock, who didn't admit it up front, but had been curiously edgy after leaving the lab.

"You wearing any pants?" John looked to the stoic Holmes, who uttered a quick 'No', his face caught between annoyance and disgust.

"Okay." John bobbed his head, that wasn't unusual at all in the great halls of the Buckingham Palace. The two snickered, John personally wanting to steal an ashtray, heck he'd be happy with one of the throw pillows.

Adele

Their easy laughter annoyed me, seriously? I was practically kidnapped…by the freaking British government! This was no laughing matter! I remained on the floor, the sparse bodied coffee table offering me little protection from the elements.

"The Buckingham Palace!" John mused in delight, "I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray…ahem, what are we doing here Sherlock Holmes? Seriously, what?"

"I don't know." Sherlock replied, his face faltering slightly from his laughter.

Sheesh! Now they ask! I thought, head bobbing unsteadily on my shoulders. Whatever the reason I wanted out, I didn't care about meeting the queen or anybody else. I just wanted to go home and crawl in bed and remain hidden. A man in a dark suit, with thin stripes walked in, his yellow tie contrasting against his serious face.

"Oh, apparently yes." Sherlock snorted, causing another fit of laughter. The man lifted his chin, perhaps suppressing a sigh, glaring down his hooked nose. Instead he plastered a fake smile on his face, resisting the urge to slap the giggling school girls into another dimension.

"Just once can you two behave like grown ups?" The man bit out in an elegant but commanding British voice. John shrugged nonchalantly,

"He solves crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. So I wouldn't hold out too much hope." The unnamed man pressed his lips prudishly, casting Sherlock an angry look. He reminded me of nun, always scowling, looking upset, while somehow retaining some grace from Marry Poppins. Tie-guy glanced down at me, tilting his head.

"Miss Banks, how nice of you to join us." I glared, eyes narrowing into pencil thin lines.

"I was kidnapped, I didn't come willingly." Again a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Right you are, the damages to the vehicle say it all. Also, the driver's broken nose speaks for itself." I flashed a pretty grin, full of malice and respite. They deserved it. Kidnapping someone off the street in broad daylight. Unheard of!

"Perhaps a simple pop in, no?" I snapped, shakily rising to my feet and teetered over to the window.

"You're arguing with a schizophrenic Mycroft, it's utterly useless." I threw my hand up, rounding on Sherlock.

"Well, just blab to the whole neighborhood why don't you!?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"It's Mycroft, he probably knew everything about you before you even got into England. Bet you 100 quid he has a file on you." I opened my mouth, turning to 'Mycroft' who gave me an indifferent shrug.

"I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft." Sherlock snarled, if there was anything I learned in the past two weeks about Sherlock, it was that he was adamantly dedicated to his cases. He did not tolerate interruption. Good thing I don't tolerate being ignored. Mycroft apparently ran off the same policy I did.

"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. A bit obvious, surely."

"Transparent."

"Time to move on then." Mycroft cleared his throat, turning with the neat pile of clothes in his hand. I just realized Sherlock was naked. I turned awkwardly away, deciding it's better to listen than to observe. I stared out the window, head swimming. Mycroft sighed like a mother clucking to get her children dressed who simply refused to.

"We are in Buckingham Palace-" Obviously, I thought. What else would be this damn fancy? Along with John stating so like five times.

"The very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on." Mycroft's voice leaked venom while I wondered who still said 'trousers'.

"What for?" Sherlock huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Your client." Sheet clad the brunette detective stood, he did realize sheets became somewhat transparent near windows during the day, right?

I plugged my ears, chanting some verse from a children's nursery rhyme. From the mental blundering I could hear the heated argument which was entirely one sided –courtesy Sherlock.

One thing led to another, I saw Holmes and Watson getting ready to leave and hurried after them- I mean, I wasn't staying here by myself, they would dissect me and plant robot babies in me to do I-don't-know-what. While getting a full view of Sherlock pretty much naked.

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock growled, hands pressing his hips to squeeze the sheet tighter against his backside and legs. I wanted to cover my eyes. Key words, wanted to. Doesn't mean I did.

"Or What?" Mycroft snapped, his cool and indifferent demeanor rapidly boiling away.

"Or I'll just walk away."

"I'll let you." Mycroft taunted, it was amusing to see the brothers bicker like they were in grade school. Ha, John was playing mommy now.

Boys, please. Not here. –Q His voice pitched and mocking. If he had hands I imagined him moving them around like mouths, jutting his own lips to act out the scene.

What a fine and fetching mommy! –Roach

"-Make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake, put your clothes on!"

I quietly walked alongside nobody, trailing behind Sherlock who was still upset at being thoroughly controlled. Not that I blamed him. He was supposed to be pursuing a woman, called Irene Adler, a Dominatrix. A legal prostitute of some sort that smacked you around like she were your pimp?

I wasn't too sure. I was seeing far too many people naked today, her site had been pretty…forward. Not that it mattered to me what people did in their own time. But the woman had a flipping website! She was flawless, angular face with stunning blue eyes. Along with her great beauty she also had a ruthless cunning. Her lipstick a voracious red, giving her the look of a woman who knew how to be a ball grabber…figuratively and literally.

Since leaving the palace Sherlock looked somewhat embarrassed, and refused to acknowledge my presence. He offered no apologizes when he squashed me in the car between he and John, or when he was getting 'dressed for battle' while tossing articles of clothes in my arms, face, over my head and around me. My helping was simply to gather everything up and put them away.

Something Mycroft had said earlier, combining with me being in the room had put him in a bad mood that was all directed at me.

"Don't be alarmed. It has to do with sex."

"Sex doesn't alarm me." Sherlock prompted, to which Mycroft scoffed, lips curling into a sneer as he proceeded to make a jab at Sherlock's pride.

"How would you know?" And in the mili-second whether anyone noticed or not, Sherlock's eyes fluttered over at me, his face annoyed at my presence, standing in front of him.

It was definitely an under-the-belt blow. Like grating someone's ego with coarse sand paper. I guess I understood why he'd be embarrassed. But I wasn't, I could blunder around all through town telling people I'd never had sex. Of course I wouldn't do that in the shady areas…

When I came out of my thoughts the guys were rolling around the ground, fighting. Ridiculous. Why did I come along?

Because Sherlock made you. –Rachel

Obviously. –Adele

I still didn't understand why I had been pulled into the situation at all. I didn't do any detective work.

"You were a doctor!"

"I had my bad days!" John howled, I pushed a 'kretek' in my mouth, inhaling rigorously. Hopefully nobody saw this.

Why afraid someone will accuse you of something? -Rachel

Shut up. Don't you have a corner to cry in? –Adele, my skull burned, brain sloshing as the corners of the streets curled with the shadows. They needed to sort this bitch fit out before the earth swallowed us.

Irene Adler was a very interesting woman. Strutting in with her birthday suit on to greet her guests. Or as she called it-her battle armor. Funny, think I've heard that somewhere.

"I had tea too, from the palace." John said, eyes not looking away. "In case anyone's interested." They weren't. Sherlock was intently staring at Irene, who was intently staring back, and I was intently staring at Sherlock. Wonder what deductions he was making. I wasn't a deduction-maker. But Irene was the only 'smoking hot' person in the room. Which was cool with me, I just don't know why she had to be naked. At least she wasn't looking at me.

When the detective seemed to not be able to say anything, Irene turned to me, lips charmingly pulling over her teeth.

"And you must be Adele." Spoke to freaking soon.

"You know me?"

She didn't answer only continued to smile, slowly standing as she strode over. I turned my body away, I might have been dressed but I felt bare and vulnerable near her.

"Your eyes truly are remarkable…I can see why they would be a point of interest. I have something of particular for you. It seemed appropriate to call you in with the boys." So she had requested me to be here.

"And….that would be?"

"Some clothes. Kate! Take Miss Banks here, and dress her in the finest. You know which one."

John pushed his lips, staring holes into a wall.

"Could you put something on? Please? Uh, anything at all. A napkin?" I was whisked away by 'Kate', neither guy noticing me being kidnapped, again.

Stripped naked, showered, groomed, dressed, and then shoved back into the room of 'adults'. I stood awkwardly in a cloth thin cocktail dress and stilettos. Now it was everyone's turn to stare at me. This time it was me refusing to acknowledge Sherlock.

"Where are my clothes?" I demanded.

"There." Irene drawled, fingers lazily motioning to the burning pile of clothes in the fireplace. "Dark clothes don't suit you." My face was red, flaming over my cheeks. Irene twirled, hips shaking underneath Sherlock's coat. At least she was dressed this time.

"Okay, what is this? We're here for the photographs-"

"They are. You're not." Irene smiled lusciously. She tilted her chin, "A gift. From an admirer, they adored your handy work." The woman was in front of me, taking me around the room like we were dancing to a serenade, to which I followed blindly. In her final spin she shoved me with a bump of her hip, sending me into Sherlock's lap, causing him to grunt from surprise. The detective's hands caught me, steadying me as I clawed to stand while trying to not flash my whoo-ha at everyone.

"Ack!" I fumbled, too embarrassed to stand next to anyone.

"I'm…going home." I stammered, storming and then stopping short. "Can I have that coat?" Irene shrugged it off, dropping it into my hands. It smelled just like Sherlock, and Irene.

"What? No-!" John tried to stop me but I dodged around him, flying out of Irene's home as fast as I could. Heels tapping against the pavement. How did anyone wear sequin dresses? I felt like it was going to blow off my body any second. It was tight and loose at the same time, which should have been physically impossible.

It was nearly an hour walk and when I got home I was happy to see my dark, ghoulish flat. It was empty. Completely empty, void of naked people and people from the palace and empty of the detective and Irene Adler. The way I had left it, they way it should have been. Save for Jim standing in the middle of it. A bouquet of roses clasped in his fist. Could this day get anymore surreal?

"Hello darling. Did you miss me?" Jim smirked, raven eyes flashing a deadly taunt. "Or have you moved on already? Sherlock is it?" I paled but somehow found my courage.

"It's not moving on if 'you' never existed." Jim smiled, a very rich Richard-y smile.

"Touché my dear." The suited man sauntered over, knowing I wouldn't run. He knew like I knew –which I hated to know, was that I wanted to see him. Slowly he pulled the jacket off tossing it down. His eyes first trailed over the small puckered skin that had a bluish bruise. The wound was healing nicely, too bad it looked gross.

"I knew it would look stunning." His finger strummed the small gold chain between my breasts, the only thing keeping them hidden actually.

"You're my secret admirer?" Jim bowed dramatically, the red curtains closing around us, roses being thrown at his feet. "The one and only."

"Now, why don't you tell me all about you and Sherlock?" He said,a smile smearing from his face.

"What about it? You jealous 'Richard'?" I might have wanted to see him, but I hated being deceived.

"Oh, Richard isn't jealous. Not caring and loving Richard. No, my damsel…but Jim is." His arm curled ill-intently around my waist.

"How about we talk about it over dinner hm? I got something very special planned."