Sometimes the cases were exciting and Iris found herself entertained fully…
"You're kidding," Sherlock droned drily as the nerd in their client chair continued on desperately.
"I swear Mr. Holmes! The comic books are coming to life!" He pushed the glassed back up his nose as he pleaded with the stoic detective and John gave him a skeptical stare.
Sherlock scoffed but before he could rebuttal a new voice entered the conversation, "That's a fun sentence to come home to," The dark haired and olive skinned girl walked in, tapping her professional heels by the coat rack before moving across the room pausing to introduce herself, "Iris Brook, pleasure."
The geek watched with jaw dropped as the woman moved to the right side of Sherlock Holmes's chair and endearingly ran a hand down his arm, "Right on time Ris, if our client could shut his gape."
The nerdy boy shut his mouth instantly and Iris smiled leaning against Sherlock, "How fortunate, why don't you fill me in?"
This is how Sherlock and I ended up dressed as ninjas, fighting a comic book geek in Soho while Iris gathered the public attention with social media and simple crowd formation. After which we ran off and Chris pulled off his mask and told the audience exactly what KEMP and his publishers did to him. Iris uploaded several videos of this stunt and his confession to facebook, twitter, and google plus if you are looking for more information.
"How is your ego going to handle this one Mr. Holmes? People just calling you a genius, they don't even know you," Iris scrolled down the comments, shaking her head fondly while the detective stood at the table with beakers of acids and bases.
Sherlock didn't respond at first and Iris was sure he had tuned her out when he said, "Something tells me you'll find some way to keep me humble," Iris scoffed and he amended the statement, "Humbler."
Sometimes they were trying and argumentative…
"He's not a murder!"
"The victim was presumably killed by a snake and her fiancé owns quite a few of those!" John rebutted from the other side of their tall companion.
Iris rolled her eyes, "He's strange, I understand, but not a murderer. There's no perceivable motive."
John rose a finger, "You said perceivable!"
"And you said presumable!"
Sherlock tired of their raising voices and sighed, "Children!" He interrupted, before pausing his stride, "That's new," He is rarely not the child in these instances, "Anyways, the sister's getting tired while we're still figuring this out. We have to work quickly."
Just then Sherlock had an idea. He decided to relive Julia's last night. So Iris was cast in the role of the drunk girl returning home and having a bath. For a girl I've never seen drink, she is hilarious while thinking as though intoxicated. Just as she spoke on the prettiest bathing lotion in the apartment that Sherlock became suspicious. He went into the lab with Iris at dawn and his suspicions were confirmed. Long term poisoning.
"Chris the geek has a girlfriend!" Iris smiled while reading the comments, one of which being from the nerd of their earlier case, "Good for him," she posted back with congratulations just as Sherlock entered their bedroom.
"Won't last long, just for the fame at the moment," He laid next to her on the bed to read her laptop as another comment popped up and Sherlock quickly stole the computer from her to reply that the fight wasn't real, and he wasn't beat up.
Iris scowled at him, "Sherlock, let people be happy if they aren't hurting you."
"Why should I?" He asked genuinely curious and Iris smiled kissing the confusion off his lips. She could show him better than tell him anyways.
Some cases weren't actual cases…
Sherlock was lying on the couch as John read boring cases one right after another, waiting for Sherlock to pick one. He was disappointed at the dark haired man stayed lying silent on the couch, hands templed under his nose. Then a phone alarm went off and several quick footsteps came from the bedroom to their living area.
Iris entered to shoot a glare at Sherlock before answering her phone, "Hello?" The phone call only lasted nine seconds but Iris kept the phone to her ear for longer before saying, "Alright, be right there Molly." Pretending to hang up she looked at Sherlock, "Why was my phone out here?"
"You must have left it there," Sherlock replied innocently up at her, "On your way out, want to let the client in?"
John watched as Iris just scoffed and ruffled her boyfriend's hair before looking to John, "Do try to stay sort of out of trouble while I'm gone right?" He nodded even though Sherlock shook his head and the doorbell rang downstairs, "Be right there!" Iris threw her jacket on over her jeans and tank before walking down the stairs.
Opening the door for the client with instructions to head right upstairs, she walked out the door and down about two blocks before a black car conveniently pulled up on the curb for her and she got in smoothly.
"One day Mycroft will pick me up himself." She muttered upon seeing his all too familiar secretary in the car.
The body of a 45 year old man was found in a car on wasteland in Surry. I genuinely never thought I'd see the day. Sherlock is BAFFLED! He hasn't a clue! He's flummoxed! He's bamboozled! He's stuck, and not even his most reliable un-sticker is able to help as Iris seems just as confused by the situation, but entirely apathetic whereas Sherlock is determined.
Iris laughed as the three of them walked into Scotland yard to see Lestrange about a case and she caught sight of the print out of comments on John's latest blog update was hanging, "That's a nice touch, don't you think?" She asked John who laughed at the sight and Sherlock glared at their teasing.
"It is a great example of the work that Scotland Yard usually accomplishes," Iris stopped teasing, knowing that Sherlock liked when he knew everything, "Virtual and amateur." Maybe on some other day, far in the future she would tell him what role she played in it but for now, silence was wise, "I still don't know why you had to mention it at all." He muttered.
"People like to know you're human Sherlock." John said justly looking to Iris for help.
She took Sherlock's arm suddenly as he said harshly, "Why would they care?"
"Because it's cute Sherlock, people like the sort of thing, imperfections." Sherlock looked down at her angry but his face softened as he saw her. Her hair that had a stray piece from the pony tail and the smile that was more to the left than the right. Imperfections. Ironic, considering how much she hates those.
Some cases made the news…
"There's a lot of press outside guys!" Lestrade commented as the three of them moved off the stage to the back exit and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
He waved off the police man, "They won't be interested in us," Their case had just wrapped up and Sherlock intended on a quick getaway.
Lestrade scoffed, "That was before you were an internet phenomenon," They were weaving through the halls at every turn and Iris laughed at the idea as Lestrade continued, "Couple specifically wanted photographs of you three."
"I can stay inside," Iris said quickly, not actually wanting to be in any pictures, or wanting to see the lights, or wanting people to be touching her or grabbing her but Sherlock's hand wrapped around her pulling her with them.
"For God's sake, Ris stay by me, they won't touch you," He tightened a hold on her as she allowed him to, "John," Who seemed unconcerned, "Cover your face, walk fast." A slight detour was made as Sherlock grabbed two hats from a prop room.
The newsboy hat he handed to John and himself put on a deerstalker before pulling Iris hood over her head, knowing that a hat that has been on another stranger's head would make her uncomfortable, "Still it's good for the public image, isn't it?"
Iris took up Sherlock's hand as the door opened and muttered as they walked by, "There used to be a private in your job title." Sherlock couldn't agree more.
Hat-man and Robin have a tight grasp on mystery all the papers say. Mystery being Iris of course who was the most hidden of all of us is quite proud of her cloaking abilities as only the lower half of her face and hair are visible. Sherlock is not as amused.
"Home," Iris said as she came home on day to Sherlock holding a blowtorch to a chicken leg, "Hope you didn't want to do that interview with the London Sun because he called today."
"How much did he offer this time?"
"7000 euros." Sherlock scoffed as he stayed focused and Iris moved to see exactly what he was doing, "You're not making Mrs. Hudson clean this up like last time."
"Would you rather it go uncleaned?"
Iris rolled her eyes before kissing his cheek, except he moved to kiss her lips instead, "I'd rather we go out tonight. If you can find a case that includes some semblance of dinner I'd appreciate it." Her phone rang and she walked away to answer it while Sherlock knew he'd be doing just that, and probably cleaning this mess when he was done, or just throwing it all out.
Some cases were unexpected…
A nice dinner and theatre date. Rare, true, but Sherlock was aware that on her birthday, his girlfriend may want to do some normal things. He was wrong, she was overjoyed at the very real murder that occurred and spurred them both into action.
A couple people have asked me what he's really like, especially with Iris, so I've transcribed the voicemail messages; anything underlined was Iris's speech…."John I've just been to see Terror By Night at some terrible little theatre on the Strand with Ris. The play itself was mediocore. I'd like to argue but I can't there. Then there was a murder! Live on stage! Our last Christmas was spent solving a case, why not my birthday too? Ris, you do love this, and we haven't got time to tell the police what happened so when you've finished dinner or whatever it is you're doing with… Sarah, Sherlock, her name is Sarah. I need you to take this message to XXXXXXXXX. Don't worry, it's quite simple. By simple, John, he means get a pencil and pad to write it down.
"Did you actually find a one-night murder investigation with Sherlock to be the perfect way to spend your birthday?"
Iris smiled at John's question as she poured their tea, adding honey to hers, "Completely, John it's hard to believe but Sherlock has always been the one source of disorder in my life."
John raised an eyebrow as he took his tea and she sat down across from him, "You hate disorder, if I understand correctly."
She shuddered and nodded with a knowing smile, "Yes, I do. I hate that you leave the door knocker crooked and that Sherlock never makes the bed. I hate that things are left out of place and that sometimes one of you mess up my kitchen index. At my core though, my mind is in constant chaos. Sherlock is opposite, outwards that's all he is, on the inside though, his mind is just as ordered as I try to make the world around me. I love that, I love being his friend, and I love Sherlock Holmes." John didn't understand exactly what she meant but he did understand that she loved him. Vice versa was just as obvious to John's eyes.
Some were… well, different.
Sherlock was in the room inspecting the pillow. It was newly replace from the last one. A patient, shot in bed and the bullet was from close enough range that it even ripped through the pillow.
Iris was on the roof with John when she suddenly made the strange request. Hanging by her feet she just reached to poke the gun into the hospital ward and aim upside down as Sherlock noticed with surprise.
Consider this our snapshot, if you don't prefer the literal one from a case above.
"Iris," The two were supposed to be spotting trajectory points from other buildings, how would she be hanging- John, "Iris, let John pull you up. I'll take your place." The window was broken and he was sure she heard but instead she continued taking aim. If John let her go at the gunshot-
Suddenly a shot rang and Sherlock jumped away squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened his eyes he saw the shot, perfect head shot, and stared with narrowed eyes at Iris's smile before he ran up the last flight of stair down the hall to the roof.
"It is do-able," Iris was explaining to John, "Especially because our murderer was taller than me, but it would have a considerable amount of tracks to cover-"
"Iris Athena Brook. What were you doing?" The roof door slammed shut.
Iris laughed as John paled, he knew if had dropped her that Sherlock would have a list of nine hundred ways to murder him without being caught, "You must have thought of it!"
His angry stormy eyes met her calm stable ones as he towered over her defiant form. Looking to John, he turned his anger, "You let her?"
"I wouldn't have dropped her-"
"You could've. A gunshot at that close range could cause anyone to jump-"
"I was a soldier!"
"You were a doctor-"
"Meaning that I help, not hurt."
Iris interjected, "John had a good hold on me Sherlock, and remember, I have been well trained." At her words Sherlock's glared turned to daggers.
"Don't remind me."
Let's just say that this case ended with Iris hanging by her feet off the roof of St. Bart's hospital while I held her feet, scared to death her sociopathic boyfriend would kill me while she attempted to shoot into the closest room. Her theory, while correct, had disputed methods.
"Sherlock, were you being protective?"
Sherlock paused at the end of their bed, unbuttoning his shirt, "Aren't I always?" He had almost lost her too many times, she was his, and she was never leaving.
Iris smiled as she followed, coming up behind him to wrap her arms around his neck, "Do you really want to argue that you aren't my knight in shining armour?"
His eyes rolled as he turned in her arms to face her, "I rarely actually rescue you."
She tilted her head up at him cutely, "Only because I've learned so well. The princess can rescue herself every once and a while, she doesn't need her knight to complete her, but instead to write the story." Sherlock hid a smile and she reached onto her toes to kiss his bottom lip lightly.
Sherlock, of 'course, needed to get the last word so he pulled away too soon, "How is the story so far?"
"What do you think?" Iris replied on cue and Sherlock was content with losing the last word, FOR NOW as he pushed her onto the bed with a kiss and threw his button down to some corner of the room for now.
And some cases... well, we'll get to those…