Sherlock's mind went blank as Irene pulled his shirt above his head, but he immediately regained control of it as he started realizing that he knew what she was doing. She did it once before, and during that one time that he let himself be fooled, he never felt like more of an idiot. He felt an instant bitterness and began feeling like an idiot again. God knows what she wanted from him. Was she playing him this entire time? Could he really be so stupid? He shouldn't really feel so bad about her having to resort to such measures, he's the one who's been lying left and right. But what could she possibly gain from manipulating him? He had nothing to offer! Maybe she was going to sell him off for some type of bounty, but he couldn't be sure without more proof, maybe he could break into her computer later. However, it was important for him to not let her know that he was on to her.

But as he watched her face fall when she first lied her eyes on the yellowing bruises that were covering a better part of his chest, it was as if shards of chilly culpability were being driven straight through his heart and twisting it around. Her not knowing that his lie is a lie was causing her pain already, and he didn't even get to telling her that he had been lying to her! Why else would she resort to manipulation unless she felt as though she couldn't get the answers she wanted by being transparent? She wasn't planning on selling him off to anyone, because, as the look on her face just sharply reminded him, he made sure that everyone thought he was dead. He raised his arm to stroke her face, and attempted to lift it to avert her gaze from the fake bruises he gave himself to make fabricating this story that was causing her distress easier to believe. He would burst if she didn't stop it, and bursting didn't seem like the best solution to his predicament. But her head didn't budge, so he dropped his arm right back down to his side.

She didn't like seeing him all battered and bruised. One would think that in her line of work, she wouldn't be alarmed by seeing a body covered in bruises. But this, this was extremely different. This was the result of running, clear as day. She never saw the effects of running on anyone but herself and always scolded herself for thinking of it as being so very difficult. She is Irene Adler, she isn't allowed to find anything difficult. But now, seeing someone as inhuman as Sherlock really physically effected by running, made her feel something she couldn't quite identify churn and flip around in the pit of her stomach.

She lightly traced the outlines of Sherlock's bruises with her fingertips and imagined him hitting the sidewalk and playing dead. He told her he really did pass out for a second, probably because his body needed a way to deal with the pain of his entire weight hitting the concrete after a multiple story fall. She looked up to him and he studied her eyes that were full of worry. She rested her cheek on his chest and sighed, breathing in his clean, sharp scent. Sherlock relaxed and put his arms around her as she thought and thought and thought.

Then, she broke the silence with a little whisper.

"Are you bored?" So THAT'S what she chocked his peculiar behavior up to be. She may be clever, but he is a really good liar.

He set his cheek on the top of her head and sighed. His sigh sounded strange to Irene, almost like relief. Was he relieved that she was the one to bring it up first?
"Are you?" He asked monotonously.

She pulled her head out from underneath his and then kissed him full on the lips. She didn't know why she did that, but she felt like he needed it, like it was his turn for some reassurance even though he might behave like he doesn't need it because, as she was taking of his shirt, she saw something flash in his eyes. Shock, surprise, and something else masked by an ominous darkness falling over his eyes that matched the one that shrouded his pain when he finally cracked the code on his phone. He was always good at hiding what he really thought when he put his mind to it, and she knew it. He thought she was pulling one of her old tricks on him once more, like the one that wounded his pride and made him look like a complete fool. Little did she know that she was the one being taken for a fool. Even though she just straight up asked him about what was worrying her, it doesn't seem as though she was going to be getting an answer soon if she doesn't stop what's going on right now. She considered asking him later as he deepened the kiss, putting his large hand gingerly on the back of her neck, and the other on the small of her back as he leaned forward, holding her in place.

Somehow, she found it in herself to gently pull away.

"I'm serious, Sherlock. Are you bored?"
"Not at the moment, no." He said as he started kissing her neck gently, but she used one of the hands to grab on to his head and pull his head away so their eyes could meet.

"So that implies that you expect to find yourself bored sooner or later."
He let out a guttural little growl that sent shivers down Irene's spine. "Must we discuss this right now?"
She took a deep breath and said, "Yes."

He threw himself back against the cushions of the sofa and said, "Fine. I probably will get bored soon," he said, following the lead she had handed him wrapped in a little bow, "but I know how to fix that quite quickly, so don't go on worrying about me."

She reached behind her for her teacup and grabbed the closest one. Sherlock watched her and raised an eyebrow as she took a sip.

"That's my cup."
"Oh, like it matters."

In one swift movement, he snatched the tea cup from her hands and threw it against the wall. The sound of the tea cup shattering into bits didn't alarm Irene.

"Shame. I really liked that china set. How am I supposed to go on using it if I have one piece missing?" She just out her lower lip in a little mock pout.

"When I get really bored, I'll go buy you another." Sherlock said as he leaned against the couch and put both his hands against Irene's back, pushing her towards towards. She let out a little scoff.

"As if."
"Try me. I'm into all sorts of domestic trifles now. I'll bet everyone but me would find it really funny." She let out a peal of laughter as Sherlock pulled her into him for another very steamy kiss.

The doubt they both previously had for each other evaporated as their bodies moved in unison. Neither of them could fathom a time when this could possibly be boring.