Chapter Sixteen - The Woman
Holmes - oh, who was she kidding now? - Sherlock, was currently seated at the tea table, reading something in the newspaper through a magnifying glass. It was the morning following their evening with Mycroft - they're eventful evening.
"Is your eyesight really that terrible?" she poked at him while sipping her tea.
"I'll have you know, my eyesight is in tip top shape." He lifted his head so he was staring at her through the glass, his eye enlarged.
She giggled. "Ah. So that's why you called me plain during our first meeting, is it?"
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"
"Never."
"Well then, I guess I shall have to make it up to you."
"Oh, and how do you expect to do that?"
"By telling you the opposite until you believe me."
"For how long?"
"For as long as it takes."
Now he had her smiling. She chuckled, but at the same moment she was sipping her tea, so she spluttered a bit and had to set the teacup down and clear her throat. He noticed this, her flustered state, and grinned a boyish grin.
And there it was again, that playful, flirtatious banter. And my was it fun! And she had to admit it was nice not to have John and Mycroft breathing down their necks and commenting to them over their playful flirtations.
"Mr. Holmes, the post is here for you." Mrs. Hudson brought in a letter.
"Ah - and who's it from, Nanny?"
"I wouldn't know. Unlike you, I would never go through someone else's mail."
Caroline chuckled - that sounded like a story she would enjoy hearing.
He took the letter and read it and instantly his expression changed. It looked as though he'd seen a ghost. "I have to go." And with that he grabbed his coat and practically flew out the door.
"Well goodness, I wonder what that was all about," remarked Mrs. Hudson.
Caroline was just as startled and confused. "Indeed. Must have been something important."
Our Room, the Grand.
Two o'clock
Followed by a heart.
That was all the letter contained. But that was all he needed. And she knew that.
Arriving at the Grand Hotel he didn't even stop at the front desk - he didn't need to. He just headed right on up to the third floor as though he owned the place, to the familiar room.
The all too familiar room.
He knocked a couple of times.
"Enter!" her voice called from within.
He did not enter. He stood there until he heard her footsteps coming towards the door from the inside. Then it opened.
And then he saw her.
"Oh Sherlock, you don't need to knock. This is your room as well."
"Didn't know what I'd find inside."
"Are you satisfied, disappointed?"
"Neither."
"Hmm. Well, do come inside." Irene opened the door further to allow him to step inside. He didn't follow her inside though, instead choosing to stand in the doorway.
"Not in a rush I see," Irene remarked with a smirk. Sherlock tried not to meet her eye - he would fall much too quickly were he to do that. "Well come on, or are you going to stand there all afternoon?"
He took a single step inside, keeping the door open just a crack. "You sent the man."
"Which man?" Irene sat at the tea table.
"The man who has been stalking us."
"Not stalking, observing."
"So you admit it then."
"I wanted to keep an eye on you."
"From afar."
"Yes. Until now. Some wine?" She held up a bottle.
"No, I'm not falling for that again."
Irene smirked. "As you wish." She poured him a glass anyways, as well as one for herself. "So, tell me about your new lady friend." She grinned as she swirled the wine in her glass.
"She's not my friend, she's my client, nothing more."
"Hmm that's not what my friend the observer has been telling me."
"Well then he is twisting the truth."
"Won't you sit down?"
"No."
"Very well, we'll stand if you'd like." She rose to her feet and smiled at him, sipping her wine. "Hmm." Irene hummed. "She likes you, I can tell. Not that she would ever admit it. She's intrigued by you, rather, and your methods. But then again, aren't we all." She grinned at him over the rim of her glass.
"I told you, I'm not falling for that. Not any of it."
"Any of what?"
"Your advancements."
She gave a melodic laugh. "Oh admit it, Sherlock, you've missed me."
"I have, I will admit it. I told you I would." More than he was going to admit to her.
"And you're glad to see me."
"Not quite."
"Are you having fun on this new case?"
"Very much, yes."
"As much fun as we used to have?" He didn't answer. "No, I thought not."
"Speaking of - stay out of this case. It's for the better."
"Of who, you? Her?"
"For you."
Again, Irene hummed. "What if I told you I have some inside information of my own?"
"You're bluffing."
"Am not. Oh, Sherlock, I thought you knew me better than that." She stepped forward, running her free hand that wasn't holding the wine glass up his chest, her fingers coming to brush his scruffy chin. He pulled back and her face fell.
"I must be off."
"Sherlock, what are you doing?"
"Something I should have done long ago: I'm saying goodbye. Goodbye, Irene." With that, he was out the door and gone.
Irene continued to sip her wine. "Not for long, Sherlock. Not for long."
"Are you all right?"
Sherlock jumped when he arrived back home and Caroline caught him sneaking back into the house like a guilty child. She was seated before the piano. By the looks of it, he had caught her mid-practice.
"Yes, of course."
"Only you seemed to rush out in quite the panic."
"No, no, just had some urgent business to take care of."
"Very well. And did you manage to take care of it, your 'urgent business'?"
"Yes, yes I did."
"Good. And I was wondering where it was you tucked my pearls away - I'm hoping they're tucked away safely as you promised."
"Yes, I most certainly did. In a very special, secret place." He had taken to carrying them in his vest pocket, feeling better if they were with him at all times.
But when he was back in his room and patted said pocket, he felt nothing. And when he reached into it, it was empty.
Irene.
Irene is back! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed as always! :)