"What the hell is she doing?" John asked pacing the room with his cell phone to his ear. He was trying to get a hold of Jen but no dice. There had been an attack at the flat, and Mrs. Hudson had a scare, but Jen was not answering her phone worrying John every so sligtly. He got her answering machine again.

"Hi, this is Doctor Lorraine. I'm obviously avoiding you," her voice said before a beep was heard to leave a message.

"This is John. Pick up there's been an emergency," he said before closing his phone to look at Sherlock, who seemed to be a in a rather perplexed state as he focused on his violin,

"She's been increasingly absent from the flat ever since Irene Adler's supposed death," he muttered picking up his violin to compose. It was one of those days; since Irene's supposed death, he had been playing relentlessly. "Why do you think that is? They were lovers, so perhaps she has contact with The Woman."

"Lovers!?" John asked suddenly his mouth adjourned as he thought about the idea. "Wonder who was-?" he muttered before cutting himself off and trying to shake the idea of the two as lovers out of his head.


She was home two hours later looking exhausted -more exhausted than usual that is- like something was slowly wearing away at her, eating her from the inside out like a disease.

"Jen!" John called sounding angry. She sighed knowing she had at least fifty missed calls from him and ten unseen texts. She ran up the steps quickly and faced John and Sherlock to be reprimanded for her petty crimes. "Where have you been!? Why didn't you answer your phone!?" He paused and took a good look at her perfectly straight hair wondering what happened to the chaos that usually consumed the strands. The change was drastic. "What did you do to your hair?"

"Relaxant," she informed him not having time for either of them right now. All she wished to do was get in her flat and sleep, and so help them if she doesn't get the chance. "I used to do it all the time."

"Why did you-"

"It's not your business," she said sharply not really wanting to know what the fuss was about in the flat that day, "and as to everything else, it's none of your business. Good Evening." Jen left curtly making John frown, and Sherlock start playing his violin to think again. It was rare of her to be so curt; she could be rude yes but never like that.

"What was that?" John asked aloud.

"She's hiding something," Sherlock muttered, "but what?" He wouldn't have to wait horribly long to find out.


Irene was using them though Sherlock was too distracted by her to understand that, but Jen knew what she intended, and she snatched the phone from Irene's hand before she could even unlock it. Everyone in the room paused to look at her. Irene's eyes widened as she gapped at Jen as if she was a ghost. Sherlock and John looked at the two and realized that they had both missed something so very obvious. For at the moment, Jen was nearly the mirror image of Irene. Her hair was done up as Irene usually did hers as was her makeup and clothing. She wore a perfectly carved out white dress for her body. Her black heels gave her the extra height needed though Irene was only a few inches taller than her, but it was the face. Yes, they were different, but the similarities were striking so much so that Sherlock finally understood.

"Nymphomaniac sister with anti-personality disorder," he said to himself looking between the two women. Jen turned away with the phone in her hand. She tossed it up and down trying to think of the password quickly eliminating options in her mind.

"Is that how you describe me?" Irene asked acting dignified or trying, but her sister always had a way of getting under her skin.

"Yes," Jen said still thinking as continued tossed the mobile up and down not bothered by the chance that it might drop and shattered into pieces, "though I say nymphomaniac, but I should really say power hungry. Sex is nothing but a power play to you."

"How did I miss it!?" Sherlock asked looking between the two starting to see the details he had missed. "It's so obvious! You two even have a few manners alike! How did I miss it!?"

"Because we're Adlers," Irene told him as if it was so simple. "You can't deduce us."

"Verowns," Jen corrected her.

"He wasn't our father. Regina Adler is our mother," Irene told her. "We had no biological relation to him."

"I will not take that woman's name," she hissed.

"How are you alive?" Irene asked changing the topic, not wanting to step on Jen's nerves, and her mother was a sore one. "I went to your funeral. You're supposed to be dead!"

"It seems no one's told me that," she remarked collapsing on the couch still exhausted from the previous weeks. "My, it's exhausting being you! How can you be so sexualized all day!? I'm exhausted playing the I-could-take-you," she said as sensually as she could that it was like it fell out of Irene's mouth and not Jen's, "game all day."

"Yes, well, you don't do it for a living," Irene said sitting in a chair across from her before turning her attention to the task at hand. "Can I have my phone back, Jenma?"

"Hm?" she asked looking at her sister as if she had forgotten what she was doing for a moment. "No. You've been cleared."

"I've been what?" she asked not appreciating her pushing her way into her life again.

"My dear sister, since I heard Sherlock ran into you, I've made plans to clean up your mess the legal way," she told her staring at her locked phone finally starting to piece together the password. "You're enemies have crawled back under their rock, and your protection will be here in ten or so minutes."

"You… that's why you look like me. You were posing as me," Irene said understanding now why her sister looked so like her when the idea would likely appall her.

"That would be correct," she said. "Being The Woman certainly has its advantages and threatening them as Irene Adler certainly has its rewards. Now," she paused looking at the phone, "what were you trying to get out of Sherlock? And who- oh, James. Of course. You were about to hand something over to James Moriarty. That's cute." James Moriarty had been silent for the time being, and it was making her nervous; she worried what he had planned for her and for Sherlock and John. Silence was always the worse things he could get from an enemy.

"That's my protection, Jenma! I need that!" she shouted at her angry now as she practically jumped Jen, who moved in time to prevent her from snatching it from her. She was loosing the charm and elegance that made her a formidable opponent, and Sherlock Holmes was disappointed in Irene and rather impressed by Jen and this new side he was seeing. She was playing the game so elegantly that Irene Adler was becoming flustered.

"Now, now, darling," she said tossing the phone up and down again as she strutted around the room, "no need to let that personality disorder control you. As for what you need, I told you before. Don't worry about it. I have it arranged. Now tell me… what were you sending him?" She was silent as she stared at Jen with a sort of vicious anger that was not the anger her clients would see when they disobeyed her, but the anger of woman who would rip out your throat given the chance. "Sherlock?" she questioned looking to him.

"A 747 ready to depart at 6:30PM from Heathrow. Flight Double O Seven," he told her quickly not wishing to admit the wrong he had done.

"Oh, dear me," she muttered quietly as she fished her own phone from her pocket. She sent out a text to various people before she quickly made a call. "Good evening Mycroft," she said. "I have something you want, and I want something in return." There was a pause. "What do I have? How about enough information to watch the world burn." Pause. "Good. I'll be seeing you then." She shut her phone.

"Jenma," Irene said looking up at her trying to play the innocent act realizing she was loosing. "Without that, he'll kill me."

"I know," she replied calmly, "but I'm not going to let that happen, Irene, so stop trying to twist my emotions." She turned back to Irene's phone.

"You'll never guess the password, love," Irene assured her. Jen chuckled at her cocky attitude; she was always that way. In a way, it reminded her of their little brother, Peter.

"Let's see… here's what I know about you- one: you love wordplay; two: you like playing games; and three: you're in love with Sherlock Holmes."

"Don't confuse playing the game for love," Irene said coldly. Sherlock had a hard look on his face, and this conversation was making it worse; it didn't escape her notice.

"I'm not," she said simply as she punched in four letters and showed her and only her: I AM SHERLOCKED before hitting enter. The phone was accessed.

"What was it?" Sherlock asked her. She ignored him as she twisted away from his attempts to look at the code.

"Love and sex has always been your downfall."

"And yours is to always see the good in people even when they don't deserve it," she snapped. "Yet, you see no good in me, your own sister."

"Ginny, what-" Sherlock started.

"Hush," she told him turning her eyes to him before pausing to address her sister. "Irene," she said turning to her sister with an exhausted look on her face. The days had been cruel to her, more than usual; she was going to crash and burn at any moment, and it wasn't going to be pleasant. "I'm trying to help you, but I will not have you blackmail and use my friends to get what you want. So let me help you start over." She looked at Jen with a look of disgust and perhaps a small bit of envy. The Woman was envious of her older sister despite years apart.

"I don't need you to take care of me!" she shouted standing. Around her sister, Irene lost any sort of cool persona she had. She let her mask slip and showed herself. "You always do that! I'm not a child, Gina," she spat. "I don't need you holding my hand every step of the way. I can take care of myself, and I don't need you to play mommy, because you aren't out mother. As much as you'd like to try, you aren't my mother, and you never will be." Jen stared at her blankly before she shook her head disappointed in Irene's outburst.

"Irene, it was never about being mother toward you," she said quietly. "It was about taking care of you, because you and Peter are all I have left. You are my family, and whether you like it or not, I would do anything for you even if you don't believe it's simply because I love you. I was not- am not perfect," she told her. "I tried to be for our family, because I thought it was best, but it tore me apart. There is so much I could tell you, but I am too ashamed to tell you. I want to help you, because you're my sister, and family stays together even if they fuck the other's fiancé."

"I'm not sorry about that," Irene informed her in a more dignified manner as she processed her words. "I just wanted to break you two up, because you deserved better. He was an idiot."

"I know," she replied simply. There was a thick silence in the air as they attempted to patch over the things that had gone wrong between them; years of damage couldn't be repaired with a simple conversation. "I have an old friend dropping by," Jen finally said speaking first. "She has brand new papers for you, and you'll go with her to America. You'll stay there under an assumed name if all goes well."

"Who?" Irene asked quietly.

"Old friend," she replied with a quick smile. "I expect Mycroft will be here first."

"You said you wanted something in return for my phone," Irene recalled. "What?"

"You'll have to wait and see," she muttered twisting the phone in her grasp nervously as she debated telling Irene what she didn't know. Irene paused sitting down and moving the chair to face her.

"What did you not tell me? Something's troubling you," Irene said taking in her sister's face. Years apart, and they could still read each other as perfectly as they could read books. "I can see through you, Jenma, as you can through me."

"Peter's in Rampton," she said finally. Irene was silent as she thought on this new snip of information. It wasn't surprising, but it was still upsetting to know of their brother's fate.

"Not surprising," Irene said taking a sip of the tea now in her hand. "He was always… well, you know. What did he do?"

"What do you think?" Jen frowned as she fiddled with Irene's phone in her hand. She flipped it over and over with one hand. She seemed worried, nervous.

"How many?"

"The number is unclear," she replied, "but it was more than I was expecting. Dominatrix?" she said quickly changing the subject. "How's the business? The Woman, they call you. The Woman." Jen smirked. "The only woman. It's a bit presumptuous."

"Ah, and what would they call you, sister?" Irene asked leaning back as she looked at her sister. "I've been told you are very naughty in bed, rough I hear."

"I like making them squirm under me, because of course, I'm always on top, and they're always so very eager to please," she told Irene with a rather sultry voice. It was the sort of voice that could make one uncomfortable if they were not used to her being so very seductive. John cleared his voice. Irene and Jen gave him a rather incredulous look.

"Making you boys uncomfortable?" Irene asked looking at the both of them before turning back to her sister. "My, Jen! You've been far too good around them. Do they not know you're a woman?" Jen laughed at the question; she forgot how enjoyable her sister could be when not being a manipulative little whore.

"John and I went on a date, but there was nothing of interest between us, and well, you've met Sherlock, so that should be explanation enough. So do they see me as a woman? Obviously not."

"Shame," Irene replied casually. "You could have either begging for mercy."

"Twice," Jen assured her, and it echoed Irene's earlier words to Sherlock. The sound of footsteps caused her to glance up toward the door. "Ah, Mycroft," she said standing as the elder Holmes entered the room.

"Jen and Miss Adler?" he said curiously looking at Irene. He had obviously made a connection by now, and that wasn't incredibly surprising.

"So how long have you known?" Jen asked noting that he was not in the least surprise by this new development just curious as why Irene was there.

"Since the day after Christmas," he told her sitting across from Jen, who had moved to the table. "So what is it you want, Jen?"

"I'm afraid, Mycroft, that this is business," she told him crossing her legs. Her façade warped, and she was no longer Irene's sister or even Jen. Her face held a sort of sharp defiance that could be imitated by very few people. It held a pride and arrogance her BPD usually didn't allow her to keep, but she did because she had to play Lupa, and that was who she was. "You intend on starting a war."

"Why are you so sure of that?" he asked her.

"747. Double O Seven." He paused and stared at her.

"Miss Adler inform you of that?"

"She used Sherlock to get that information," she told him. There was a flicker of sentiment in Mycroft's eyes. He felt pity for his brother, who obviously felt something for Miss Adler. "She will be properly punished when we are alone. I assure you. The information I have acquired from Irene has alarmed me."

"I only intended to use the plane to satisfy terrorist demands without the loss of life," he explained.

"Tell me," she said calmly looking at her nails, "do you think me naïve or simple-minded?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why do you insist on such meaningless lies?" she asked dropping her eyes to look at him. There was a sharpness to her tone that was not missed. Mycroft understood now that he was not in front of Jen at the moment. He was in front of Shadow. "An attack on the 747 would satisfy the bombing, and the bombing would enrage the people. Calls of war would be heard from throughout the country, and you would gladly heed that call. So Shadow was informed, and as in the old days, a vote was called." Jen took out her phone and looked at the conversation that had formed. "It's been agreed unanimously. So, here's the thing, Mycroft. I have Irene's phone, and I have the passkey. I give this to you, but I'm going to give this information to Moriarty to make Irene square with him and to end this war before it started. Understood?" Mycroft watched her carefully, but her face gave nothing away.

"A formidable opponent, Lupa. It's a wonder Shadow got away with so much for so long," he noted as she texted Moriarty from Irene's phone.

"You're wrong," she told him as she sent the text followed by another text. "I had been there with Shadow during its forming due to my connections not my abilities. I do not have any ability that Shadow would have wanted. It was merely my connection to Christopher Black that allowed me a place."

"I think you underestimate your worth," he informed her holding out a hand. Jen set the phone in his hand. "The passkey?"

"I am Sherlocked," she told him with a pleasant smile. Mycroft gave her a look of surprise and slight disbelief. "Now, get out. This is exhausting me."

"Will I be dealing with Lupa again?" he asked her curiously.

"Not unless information like this falls into my hands again," she assured him. "Shadow is disbanded."

"So you keep claiming," he said standing, "and yet, I just had to deter months and years of planning because of Shadow."

"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes," she smiled giving him a look that very clearly said get the hell out of my home. Mycroft left her after one more look. "That went well," she commented looking at her phone for the time. "Now, Irene," she looked down at her sister and slapped her across the face; Irene gapped in surprise. Jen had never hit Irene not even when she slept with her fiancé. "You might be family, but let me tell you something, darling. You see those two men," she said grabbing her face, so she was now looking at Sherlock and John, who both were watching them. "They're my family too, and if you try to play them again, that's it for us. I will defend them with my life, and you know I am true to my words." Irene looked down at Jen's steeled face.

"I see," she said with a creeping smile. "They'll lucky to have you." The doorbell rang signaling that her old contact was there.

"Come in!" she shouted again not looking away from sister. "You have me too… as long as you don't cross anyone else I love. I love them," she said nodding to Sherlock and John. "They mean a lot to me. Don't play with them."

"I understand," Irene said with a nod as footsteps echoed in the room. They both looked behind them to see an amazingly beautiful redheaded siren. A smile fell on the woman's face as she stared at Jen.

"Lupa," she grinned with a laugh.

"Susi," Jen said with a same smile, and the two women met for a hug. They looked each other up and down.

"You look-"

"Don't judge my looks right now," she laughed. "This is just a disguise. Usually I'm all atrociously curly, messy hair, no makeup and jeans and a jumper too big unless I am meeting someone I'm trying to impress or have work."

"Where do you work now?"

"Bart's as a psychiatrist."

"Though still causing trouble or so I hear," she said.

"Oh, really?" Jen asked. "And you're not? I hear interesting rumors about you, Susi. I hear, now stop me if I'm wrong, I hear you've caused quit a scandal pretending to be the Princess of Orange?"

"Well, they were a bunch of idiots. They weren't even aware the princess isn't even in adulthood," she said airily. "But I need to lie low. I brought your papers. Ulric says to stop getting in trouble."

"Susi, this is Irene Adler, my sister," she said gesturing to Irene, who gave her quite an appreciative look. "Susi will act as a bodyguard, and don't let her looks fool you. I once watched her kill five heavily armed men naked with her hands tied behind her back."

"Do you enjoy your hands tied?" Irene asked taking her hands in hers.

"Only if he or she knows how to actually tie a knot," Susi assured her with a smile.

"Oh, I think you and I will get along very well," Irene said with the same mischievously smile.

"Okay, enough," Jen growled wanting to get Irene out of her home for the time being; her presence was becoming exhausting. "Susi has your papers. The only thing I change was your last name. Congratulations. You're a Verown again." Irene gave her a look before she paused.

"By the way, Gina's married again," Irene told her wondering if it would trigger any sort of sentiment in her sister.

"I don't care about our flighty mother," Jen told her. Irene sighed knowing that she could hold a grudge for what seemed like forever.

"Well, she thinks you're dead. She was devastated," Irene told her, "and yes you do."

"Don't fight with me. Who knows when I'll see you next," Jen said kissing her sister's cheek.

"Thank you," Irene told her at last. Jen just shrugged.

"You're my sister. What else was I supposed to do?" she asked before she smiled gingerly at her. Irene hugged her again.

"It's been a thrill, Mr. Holmes," Irene said, but the way she said it made Sherlock flinch. It was so very much like Jen that it was nearly dizzying to see the two side by side. How did he miss it?! Irene left them, but before she could get in the car, Jen ran to the window and stuck out her head.

"Irene!" Jen shouted. She looked up.

"What is it, love?"

"Love you, darling, so don't ever come back!"

"Now, now where's the fun in that, dear?" she called back with a smile playing on her lips knowing this would not be the last time they saw each other. "Love you, Gina." Irene slid in the car, and Jen watched it leave. She turned to see the two boys still looking at her, so she pulled up a chair to complete something of a triangle between the three. She sat ready for a hailstorm of questions.

"You have questions. Go," she said finally back to Jen- not sultry, seductive Jen, not proud, commanding and secretive Jen, not angry, overly protective sister Jen, just Jen.

"You and Irene… so you've known since the first incident… that's what you've been doing this whole time? You've been trying to help Irene Adler?" John asked.

"That would be correct," she said with a nod. "My sister and I have a very complex relationship."

"I can see that," John said looking still slightly amazed by the whole thing. "And you forgave her just like that?"

"She's my sister, and I love her."

"You recognized her from a moan on Sherlock's phone?" John questioned confused.

"Thin walls, small house, you sort of learn to ignore it, and unfortunately it likes to burn itself into your brain," she laughed.

"How did you know the body was hers?"

"Irene broke four ribs when she was a small child," she told him. "She climbed into a tree and couldn't get out; I went up to help her. We both fell; she broke three ribs, and I broke my arm. Had to become right handed after that. The body didn't have the telltale signs of breaking and healing of the ribs.

"And the thing with Mycroft?"

"Accidental," she told him. "Information fell on my lap; I acted."

"How did you know her passcode?"

"I know my sister well, and I knew her feelings for Sherlock. She did have feelings for him," she said as her eyes fell on the younger Holmes. "It wasn't all a game."

"No?"

"No," she replied.

"When will the chemical makeup breakdown?" Sherlock asked suddenly breaking his silence for a trivial question.

"I'm sorry?" Jen asked confused by the sudden change in questioning

"Your hair," he said with a frown. "When will it be the way it was before?"

"I've had my hair like this during school," she told him touching her straight hair. "I rather like it this way. It's much more manageable. I think I might-"

"No," Sherlock said cutting her off right away.

"What?" she asked flatly.

"No," he repeated.

"Why do you care?" she asked suddenly irritated he wanted to control her actions.

"I-," Sherlock paused to try and put what he wanted to say in words that sounded less personal. "I regard your curls to be an exemplary emblem of you, Ginny," he informed her. "I don't care for the paint-"

"It's called makeup, Sherlock," she informed him.

"Or the clothes," he finished ignoring her. "I prefer you stay the way I am used to." Jen titled her had at him before she chuckled.

"Whether you know it or not, what you said was very kind," she told him. He said nothing but simply stared at her before turning his eyes away. "I'll go take this paint off," she said teasing him, "and change my clothes then. I'm feeling rather uncomfortable. I'd rather be wearing a jumper," she admitted as she stood to head down to her apartment.

"The green one," Sherlock said absently not looking at her as she walked to the door.

"What?" she asked.

"The green jumper," he told her.

"Okay…," she said slightly confused but went down to her apartment to wipe off the makeup and change into jeans and a forest green jumper only a size too big for her. She took out her elaborate hairstyle before shoving it in a disheveled bun. She ran back up the steps to 221B to see John gone just leaving her and Sherlock. "Where's John?"

"Went to get takeout," he told her absently. He looked to be thinking and didn't really seem to fully realize she was in the room. It didn't bother her as she stepped into the kitchen to make tea for the three of them. She stirred the sugar into Sherlock's tea before sitting in her chair and handing Sherlock his cup. He suddenly looked up at her. "When did you come back?" he frowned.

"Just now," she told him not concerned nor offended that he seemed to have been on autopilot when he answered her question. "What were you doing in your mind palace?" she asked him as she sipped her tea. John had told her about the palace, and it was easy to see when he had started wandering through. "…If you don't mind me asking."

"Going through your room," he informed her.

"My room?" she questioned. "I have a room?" She was genuinely surprised by this but also pleasantly happy over this fact.

"Next to John's room," he informed her. "It's a little bigger than a garden shed."

"Why were you going through my room?" she asked him.

"I find it curious how you warp your personality to those around you," he replied now looking at her face. "Do you around me?" he asked trying to spot the mask she would often use.

"Yes," she said simply taking in her tea. "I try to hold myself with more confidence and to wipe my emotions. I also occasionally try to boost my intellect."

"Could I see under that façade?" he asked her. She paused and looked at him.

"I've… I've never tried to… just remove my armor," she admitted. "It's a comfort, and what you're asking of me is like if I asked you to walk through your mind palace. It's not a plausible feat and even if it was, I would likely say no."

"Could you try?" he asked her. She thought about this for a moment.

"No," she told him. They were silent as they both sipped their tea. It wasn't uncomfortable or tension just peaceful as they were both lost in thought.

"Would you really lay down your life for John and I should the occasion arise?" he asked breaking the silence.

"Of course," she told him as if it was the simplest decision she's ever made. "I think I've known this for a while, but I've denied it for a while out of fear of being abandoned again."

"Don't be ridiculous," he told her. "Abandoning you wouldn't be beneficial for either party." Jen turned her head to stare at him.

"Will it ever be?"

"Unlikely," he replied, "and at one point, if it was beneficial, I would reverse the circumstances so that it would be detrimental once more."

"Is that…" Jen was trying to carefully tread around her words, but she didn't feel like beating around the bush. "Is that your way of promising me you won't abandon me?" His eyes met hers, and he knew the answer to the question wasn't one he had to think about.

"Yes," he told her simply. She seemed a bit surprised by the confession, but her face lit up, and she threw herself at him causing the chair to topple over allowing them both to end up on the floor as she hugged him.

"No one's ever made that sort of promise to me before," she muttered to him as his mind tried to wrap around what was going on. "Hug me back, you idiot!" she said punching his arm, and instead of questioning her- perhaps due to not wanting to be hit again- he put his arms around her and held her tight. "You better mean it," she muttered into his shoulder.

"I do," he said simply as John came in the room to see the two on the floor in an embrace. He gave them a curious look. Jen looked up at him with a grin.

"Hello, John," she said happily. "I knocked Sherlock out of his chair." She grinned, and John smiled fondly at the two.

"Dinner?" he questioned holding up the takeout, and Jen stood as did Sherlock as he straightened his arm chair.


A/N: And there we have it. It's very Mary-Sue to relate characters together, and for a while, I considered them actually being lovers but decided sisters actually fit much better, and then debated getting rid of the idea of her knowing Irene all together, but I really couldn't resist. Next up is just a chapter or two of life in Baker Street, but oh, there is always plenty going on, and then we'll move on the Hound of Baskerville, because how could I not cover it when Jen's a psychiatrist.

Thanks to reviewers flaming-amber, Rodent2000XD, SemiraBlake, Adrillian1497, Anon, short-skirtbluescarf, Feint Illusion, and scarlet tribe. I'm getting close to a hundred and was thinking of posting a sort of thank you gift when I get to a hundred, but I have no idea what I would do. Suggestions are welcomed, so review please! Also Happy late Thanksgiving to my American readers.