Céline hailed a taxi from outside of Scotland Yard after replying to Sherlock's text.
"221b Baker Street please." She softly spoke toward the driver. As they took off she noticed a woman snapping photographs of her from another car and frowned turning to look back at her. But before she could get a good look of her face the car had taken off.
The photographs of Céline, as well as photos of Sherlock leaving Buckingham Palace, were sent to Irene'sphone. Irene was sitting on her bed thumbing through them. When she got to the ones of Céline she frowned, she couldn't understand why Sherlock had picked her.
"Kate!" Irene suddenly called. Kate hurried in. "We're going to have a visitor. I'll need a bit of time to get ready." Irene spoke, smiling. Kate walked up behind her.
"A long time?" Kate asked.
"Ages!" Irene smirked before rushing to her closet.
At 221b Baker Street Céline sat in Sherlock's bed as Sherlock searched for something to wear. He had explained the case to her and she found it interesting. Watson came inside.
"What are you doing?" Watson asked. Céline giggled.
"Going into battle, John. I need the right armor." Sherlock spoke, emerging from the bathroom wearing a bright yellow jacket. "Céline?" Sherlock turned to her, showing it off. She studied it and shook her head.
"No," Céline spoke. Sherlock agreed and began rummaging through his closet again. Watson went back into the front room to type up a blog entry as Céline and Sherlock continued to pick an outfit. After a little while, Sherlock decided to wear what he usually did.
"Are you coming?" Sherlock asked, sitting beside her on the bed.
"Probably not. I have some work to do." Céline replied as Sherlock cupped her face.
"Mycroft saw your markings," Sherlock spoke. Céline giggled.
"Sorry, I thought you wanted me to…" Céline began, thinking back to the previous night.
"I did," Sherlock replied. "Are you sure you don't want to come?" He asked again. Céline gave him a light kiss.
"I want to. But I can't." Céline spoke. Sherlock pouted a bit and Céline laughed. "You'll see me tonight." She reassured him.
"You're staying here?" Sherlock asked. Céline nodded.
"I'll be right here waiting for you." She smiled. Sherlock kissed her one more time. Watson walked in as they were kissing and nervously hurried out, muttering a sorry. Céline and Sherlock also quickly pulled away and exchanged a glance before getting up to leave. Céline walked home and Sherlock and Watson took a taxi.
"So, what's the plan?" Watson asked. Sherlock shrugged.
"We know her address." Sherlock spoke. Watson laughed.
"What, just ring her doorbell?" Watson asked. Sherlock nodded.
"Exactly," Sherlock spoke, he turned his attention to the cab driver. "Just here, please."
"You didn't even change your clothes." Watson protested. Sherlock nodded.
"Then it's time to add a splash of colour." Sherlock spoke. They got out and wandered into an alleyway.
"Are we here?" Watson asked, confused. Sherlock nodded.
"Two streets away, but this'll do…Punch me in the face." Sherlock suddenly asked. Watson was surprised.
"Punch you?" Watson asked. Sherlock nodded.
"Yes. Punch me, in the face. Didn't you hear me?" Sherlock snapped impatiently. Watson was still taken aback.
"I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking, but it's usually subtext." Watson spoke. Sherlock frowned.
"Oh, for God's sakes." Sherlock began before punching Watson in the face. Watson flew back and caught himself. Before he could process through what happened he quickly punched Sherlock back.
After a brief tussle, Sherlock and Watson hurried two streets down to Irene's house. Sherlock rang the doorbell.
"Hello?" Irene's assistant Kate asked, as she listened through the call box. Sherlock began to act as if he was distressed and flustered.
"Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I've just been attacked, um, and, I think they...they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?" Sherlock asked.
"I can phone the police if you want." The woman nonchalantly replied.
"Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?" Sherlock asked again. "Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much." Sherlock continued as the woman opened the door to let them in. Sherlock and Watson both tumbled in. Sherlock began to mutter thanks. Watson followed.
"I…I saw it all happen. It's okay, I'm a doctor." Watson spoke. "Now, have you got a first aid kit?" The woman nodded and led Watson to the kitchen after ushering Sherlock into the front room. Sherlock sat and waited. After a few minutes of silence, he heard a voice in the other room.
"Hello. Sorry to hear that you've been hurt. I don't think Kate caught your name." Irene spoke, waiting to come in.
"I'm so sorry. I'm…" As Sherlock began to speak Irene walked in completely naked. Sherlock was taken aback and turned his gaze away. Irene frowned a bit when he looked away. He stuttered trying to say his alias.
"Oh, it's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright, isn't it?" Irene asked, turning his head to face her but Sherlock kept his eyes away. "Céline would be having a fit right now wouldn't she? Mr. Sherlock Holmes…" Sherlock frowned when she brought up Céline.
"Miss. Adler, I presume." Sherlock observed, looking at her face. He was trying to ignore her quip about Céline. Irene studied him with a look of admiration.
"Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try? I see Céline doesn't appreciate them like I would." Irene spoke. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"No, thank you…" Before Sherlock could finish speaking Watson came in and jumped.
"I've missed something, haven't I?" Watson spoke, turning bright red. Irene smirked.
"Please, sit down," Irene spoke. "Oh, if you'd like some tea I can call the maid." Sherlock and Watson sat in silence with Irene for a long moment. Sherlock was trying to get a read on Irene but he could barely get anything. "Don't stare too much, what will Céline think?" Irene giggled. Watson crossed his arms and sent Sherlock a look. Sherlock quickly retorted back.
"You keep bringing her up but I don't see how she is relevant to this situation." Sherlock snapped. Irene smiled and perked a brow in thought.
"Oh, she's very relevant to this situation." Irene thoughtfully spoke. After another moment of silence, Irene spoke up again. "Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock just watched her, he didnt reply. "However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait."
"You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?" Sherlock sarcastically responded. Irene laughed.
"No, I think you're damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it's yourself." Irene spoke, Sherlock rolled his eyes. Irene studied him closely. "Oh, and somebody loves you. Why, if I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth too." As Irene spoke she looked over at Watson. Watson nervously laughed.
"Could you put something on, please? Er, anything at all. A napkin." Watson suggested. Irene watched him with a calculated glance.
"Why? Are you feeling exposed?" Irene asked. Sherlock stood and removed his coat.
"I don't think John knows where to look," Sherlock spoke, handing his coat over. Irene ignored him and walked to Watson. Watson awkwardly shifted in his seat.
"No, I think he knows exactly where," Irene spoke. Sherlock cleared his throat and forced Irene to take the coat and she put it on. "I'm not sure about you." Irene flirty spoke too Sherlock.
"I see a naked woman quite frequently but thank you." Sherlock curtly spoke. This made Irene upset and she crossed her arms, sitting back down. Watson turned red again. "Besides, even if I didn't I could just borrow Watson's laptop."
"You do borrow my laptop." Watson retorted. Sherlock walked to the fireplace as Watson spoke.
"I confiscate it." Sherlock shrugged.
"Well, never mind. We've got better things to talk about. Now tell me, I need to know." Irene spoke, changing the subject. "How was it done?" Sherlock frowned and turned toward her
"What?" He asked. Irene took off her shoes.
"The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?" Irene asked. Sherlock and Watson exchanged a glance.
"That's not why I'm here." Sherlock replied, crossing his arms.
"No, no, no, you're here for the photographs but that's never gonna happen, and since we're here just chatting anyway…" Irene continued.
"That story's not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?" Watson asked. Irene shrugged.
"I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes." Irene explained. Watson cleared his throat nervously.
"Oh." Watson spoke. Irene turned back to Sherlock.
"I like policemen just fine but. What I really like is detective stories and detectives. Brainy's the new sexy." Irene winked. Sherlock ignored her flirting. "Okay, tell me: how was he murdered?" Irene pressed.
"He wasn't." Sherlock responded, gazing around the room. Irene was interested in this.
"You don't think it was murder? How?" Irene asked. Sherlock shook his head.
"The same way that I 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 replied. Irene ignored the comment about the photographs.
"Okay, but how?" Irene asked. Sherlock smirked.
"So they are in this room. Thank you. John, man the door. Let no-one in." Sherlock spoke. Watson nodded and left after the two exchanged a glance about their plan. Watson got up and left to the hallway and lit a newspaper on fire. Irene sat up and frowned, looking at Sherlock. Sherlock took out his phone to text Céline the estimated time he would be back at 221b Baker Street.
"Is that her you're talking to?" Irene asked. Sherlock looked at her after he sent a text.
"It might be," Sherlock spoke.
"She's a girl. I wonder what you might do with a real woman." Irene cruelly spoke. Sherlock scoffed.
"Céline is as much a woman as you are." Sherlock snapped back. Irene pouted a bit.
"She's a bit plain for my taste." Irene quipped.
"Well, she isn't for mine," Sherlock responded. Before Irene could say something else the fire alarm went off. Watson had used the newspaper to set it off. Sherlock quickly followed her gaze to the mirror and smirked. "Thank you. On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities." As Sherlock spoke he wandered over to the mirror and placed his fingers under the mantelpiece until he found an opening. The opening had a small button and when pressed a wall safe was revealed behind the mirror. "All right, John, you can turn it off now," Sherlock shouted. As Watson attempted to turn the fire alarm off two men emerged with guns and Watson raised his arms.