Beethoven's "Immortal Ode to Joy" was on repeat on the old Gramophone. Her shoes were off. Her hair was in a tangled mess. The right cheek wound was swollen and red. A arrow in one hand, a bow in the other. Irene was lying on the couch, body facing up the ceiling. She straightened her bow, strung her arrow and released. The arrow shot up and stuck itself in the roof. A few second passed and it came falling down. Irene lazily reached out and caught it. She repeated until the record reached its 9th loop.
Sherlock walked through the door and stood a few feet away from the couch. Irene had her eyes closed, but her bow still pointed at the ceiling.
"Sherly." She smiled, eyes still closed. Sherlock's face remained emotionless. "I have a question." She paused. "Are you aware of 'Immortal Ode to Joy?" Irene unhitched the arrow from the bow and pointed to the gramophone. "Beautiful piece of music. It provokes so many emotions. Like-"
"Get to the point." Sherlock cut her off. Irene smiled again.
She pointed her stretched bow to the ceiling. "Is emotion a weakness?" Smack. The arrow plunged into the roof. It stayed. Sherlock titled his head.
"Yes."
"Why?" She asked and looked at him.
"You become distracted. Your decisions affected and you become weak."
Irene looked into Sherlock's eyes. "Is that what Mycroft taught you?" Her lips smirked a little. Sherlock glared at her.
"This isn't about me. This is about you. Have we done something stupid?" Irene looked away.
"No." She softly said.
Sherlock smiled. "Yes. Something very bad. You let your emotions get the better of you." Irene turned her head more. "How interesting. Let me guess. He abused them. He tore them. Turned them to ash. Why? Its because that is what Moriarty does." Irene jumped a little. "He takes them, and turns them against you." Sherlock grinned. "I find it all rather amusing."
"Amusing?" Irene sprung off the crouch, bow aimed at Sherlock's skull. "How amusing is this?" Sherlock stared her down. Irene's eyebrows knitted and her face was serious. Sherlock raised his own eyebrows.
"Very." A short silence passed and a smile crept on Irene's lips. Sherlock smiled too. She laughed and rolled her eyes and lowed the bow.
"You're lucky that I like you, Holmes."
Sherlock titled his head. "Why?"
"I would have released." She shrugged and flicked the arrow, inspecting the metal.
"Without hesitation?" Irene gave a small nod. "How alike Moriarty you are." She laughed in a sad tone.
"How true." She curled her lip.
"How is my nemesis, by the way? You've seen him lately, judging by the wound on your cheek. Gun, I assume?"
"You assume correctly." Irene's eyes narrowed. "If anyone else did this, they would find themselves at the bottom of a creek." Sherlock smiled. "Yes, seems Jimmy was in a bad mood. And you've only seen him in a good one. Pray to God you don't." Her eyes lowered to the floor and she become distracted. "Hang on, you didn't come here to talk, you came here to collect. Hm, Sherlock?" Irene pointed an arrow at him. Sherlock sighed.
"John misses you. He wants you to come back." She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe it has something to do with me burning a hole in the carpet. He feels he needs someone watching me." He groaned. "Like Mycroft doesn't already do that." Irene suddenly shot up.
"You mean Mycroft has like... cameras in your house." Sherlock gave a sharp nod.
"Ah, I see." Irene internally groaned. Mycroft would have seen all the times Jim came into the flat. But, wouldn't Jim himself know and somehow block it? She submitted the thought. "That's good to know now."
"Why?" He asked, curious. Irene bit her lip.
"Never you mind." She retorted. "Now, I don't really feel like going back, but I assume you are not taking now for an answer because John has you whipped. I assume I'm going against my will?" Irene held out her wrists. "How about you chain me up?" She gave a wink and a wiry smile. The subject obviously went over Sherlock's head.
"Unfortunately I didn't bring any." Irene dropped her wrists and gave Sherlock a sigh.
"Fine. How boring." She pouted and threw her bow and arrows on the couch and picked up a already packed bag that was sitting beside it. Sherlock looked at it quizzically. "Oh please." Irene smiled. "I knew you'd come crawling back to me."
