"Sherlock?" Irene whispered, her head on his chest. "Will you miss this?"
"I will always have you in my Mind Palace." Sherlock replied, his lips touching the top of her head.
Irene listened to Sherlock's beating heart, its elevation sounding like music to her ears. This will be their last night together. Tomorrow, she would sleep alone, coldness to envelope her entire being as she lie miles away from him.
"How would we make Coventry count?" she asked, feeling the tears form in her eyes.
Sherlock tipped her chin to face him, a sad smile on his lips. "No matter where we are or what we do, Ms. Adler, everything I do next to you will always count."
"I've never felt this way towards anyone. Of course, you are not just anyone." she replied, softly laughing.
"You make me break my vow, you know." Sherlock announced.
"Of virginity?" Irene replied, her lips quirking upwards in amusement.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Of abstinence over anything sentimental. Of getting myself involved."
"Oh." Irene's brows furrowed. "I'm sorry."
Sherlock planted a kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry. I'm not."
Unable to help herself, Irene leaned onto him for a deep kiss, her body sinking into him as they spent their last night away.
Irene opened her eyes, her mind still on her dream.
Almost cursing the person who rang her doorbell, she peeked through the peephole, learning her lesson after Mycroft's visit.
"I have a letter for Ms. Bennett." said the man in a peddler hat, his voice low.
/
Sherlock Holmes stood up, straightening his coat to meet his visitor. Albert Norton offered his hand and Sherlock took it. Offering him a chair, Sherlock headed to the kitchen to prepare tea, the gears in his mind whirring at this suddenness.
This is an opportunity. A chance.
"Mr. Norton, yes?" Sherlock acknowledged, handing the man the cup he prepared.
"Mr. Holmes. Pleasure to meet you... Formally." Mr. Norton replied.
They sat facing each other, both unreadable expressions on their faces.
"So rude of my son to not introduce you to me during the ball... Seeing that you have been invited to their private wedding." Mr. Norton said, his beady eyes trailing to the invitation by the fireplace. "I take it that Lucia was your...friend?" the last word full of malice in his tongue.
Sherlock's eyes blazed cold. "Actually, we're nothing more than acquaintances... not even close. I just met her as a client's friend."
"And she invited you to her wedding?" Mr. Norton asked.
"I proved to be very helpful. I believe she was just trying to be nice, considering I didn't charge her friend for anything." Sherlock answered swiftly.
Mr. Norton smiled, his face contorted like he was wincing. "Who was this friend? Your client, I mean."
"I have a strict observance of privacy towards my clients. I know you would understand." Sherlock replied curtly.
"Clearly." Mr. Norton mused.
"You're here to ask about Lucia. Well, I'm afraid that's all I can say about her." Sherlock said.
To his surprise, Mr. Norton laughed. "Don't take me for a fool, Mr. Holmes. Lucia Bennett didn't exist until a couple of years ago, her documents are almost non-existent, and I wouldn't want a TRAMP entering into my family!" the glint in his eyes flickered with danger and darkness as he hissed his next words. "I saw the way you danced with her at the ball. I know who you are and who your brother is and I will do whatever it takes to destroy you if you don't tell me what you know about her..."
Sherlock picked up his violin, playing The Cello Suites by Bach, his eyes cool and calm. "Is that a threat? Or a challenge?"
"Both." replied Mr. Norton as he walked past him, a smug smile on his face.
As soon as Mr. Norton was out of sight within the radius of Baker Street, Sherlock knew exactly what to do.
After all, love and hate is separated by such a fine line.
/
Irene opened the door, annoyance still striking her eyes. "Who's it fr-"
Her eyes widened as she looked up, seeing the face of her visitor.
"Sherlock?"