Disclaimer: Characters are property of Conan Doyle and Laurie R. King. I claim nothing but an obsessive need to toy with situations in their books and an imagination.
Author's Note from Erkith: This is only my second King fic, so help is very much welcomed. I'll do my best to respond to reviews (as they are much appreciated).
Enjoy!
Erkith
Ps. I'll try to make the next chapter longer... I hope to update later this week.
Adler
Chapter One: Agony Columns
Paper rustled. I looked up from my books. Holmes was reading the morning paper with some disgust. Bored I imagine. He hadn't had a case in quite some while. I shook my head. I had this nasty feeling that we'd had too much quiet... I really wanted to finish my paper on my latest study. But we were about do for a...
Holmes sat up with an exclamation.
I sighed and got up to read over his shoulder.
To: He that reads the agony columns like scripture
Your daughter calls. Should your inquisitive mind care to meet me do it neither in Sussex nor San Francisco, but on the street that bares a pastry maker's name at 6 pm this evening by your old rooms.
"You have a daughter?" I asked, miffed.
"Russell."
"Is that a no?"
"An emphatic one," Holmes affirmed dryly. "What do you make of it?"
I looked it over again. "Innocent enough. Which spells a trap. Any newly released felons roaming London?"
"Not that I'm aware of." Which meant no. Mycroft kept him aware of such things.
I sighed, so much for my paper. I headed for the door without even asking our direction.
My breath caught when I saw her. My hand went instinctively to my side, were one of Holmes' revolvers lay heavily in my pocket. This might have given the weapon's location away had the woman even spared me a glance, but her eyes were entirely for Holmes. Without a word, she turned and led us into a dimly lit hotel room not far from Baker Street.
She did not insist we close the door, but merely strode in without a word.
I marveled as she faced us again. The similarities were remarkable! The high cheekbones and intelligent eyes. Even the posture was demonstrative. Had I not known better, I should have judged them to be at least first cousins.
"You've come." Said the woman's coolly detached voice.
"Indeed, and so it proves, Russell, as singularly disinteresting as predicted," replied my husband.
"You deny that I am your kin?" She flicked me a confused glance.
Holmes simply turned to leave.
"Holmes…" I began. Surely he wanted to know more...
"Yes, Russell?" They grey eyes that met mine were darkly amused. The game was afoot. Of course, he'd not bothered to give me the rules, so I remained very much in the dark. Damn, the man.
"Mr. Holmes!"
He turned to the woman but barely glanced at her. "What do you wish of me, madam?" His tone was downright dismissive.
"Can you not see that I am your daughter? Has age blinded your eyes?"
"What I see is this." He strode to her so very quickly that she backed into a wall, effectively trapping herself. "A great deal of face putty and make-up." And so saying pried off the long, high-bridged nose and high cheeks.
She sputtered in wild indignation. But it was I who gasped when Holmes stepped away from the woman and I saw her face. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Surely not! But beneath the make-up and dress that made her look painfully thin was a face I recognised by description - unlikely and impossible though it seemed.
It was none other than Irene Adler. The only woman to ever elude the clutches of Sherlock Holmes.
AN: Thank you to the reviewers of UnderLock and Key! There's a new chapter up as of today… Please R&R