Chapter4

Irene Adler stood outside the oak door leading to Holmes' chambers, fingers twisting around the envelope she had been given that morning, the conversation she had shared still playing in her head.

(That morning…)

"I have a favour to ask and I trust you'll carry it out with-out fuss."

She looked up from her cup a tiny smile creeping onto her red painted lips, "You have but to ask, dear heart. You know I can't refuse you."

Sherlock snorted around his pipe. "I need you to deliver these notes," He nodded towards the table between them: on a silver tray sat two identical tanned envelopes. Irene picked them up and read the names of the intended reciprocates.

Adler looked up from the notes eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. You're leaving a note to yourself?"

"I am." Holmes puffed on his pipe, taking a long drag he pulled the spout from his mouth and pointed it at her. "I hope my trust has not been misplaced in telling you the whole truth, Irene. What I told you, in the strictest of confidence, has come to pass." Irene's confusion was plain to see on her face, he sighed. "Listen closely; I fear that an imposter has taken my place at Baker Street. I need you to go over there and find out what he knows, use your charm," He smirked at her making her blush, "use every trick at your disposal. Once you have him believing that you think he's the real me deliver the note that a client wishes to meet him here...Then, my dear, go to Watson's practice and give him his message. You will then come back here and help me prepare." He leaned forward on his elbows staring right into her eyes. "Can I trust you to do this?"

She stared right back. "Of course you can. I'm honoured. The idea that there are two of you…" A pleasant shiver ran over her. "I can't wait to meet him."

"You will soon enough." Holmes stood and disappeared behind a screen. His shirt, under-shirt, trousers and braces hung over the top, "Did you get my disguise?" Adler smiled grabbing a large box and pressed it into his hands. Holmes flipped the lid and peered at its contents, "Is it padded?"

"Of course. The outer layers are light and the boots have low heels for easy running. The other items you asked for are in the smaller box on the table." She stood back to admire the way Holmes's back muscles moved as he slipped into the under-layers, helping him to button up when he couldn't reach.

He stepped closer to the large mirror set just aside the screen. He nodded in approval at his reflection. "This will do." He turned back to face her spreading his arms wide. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm jealous." Raising a hand she grinned squeezing the air a few inches from his body, "Honk-honk!"

With-out knocking Adler pushed opened the door a crack and peaked in. She blinked finding the rooms in various states of cleanliness. There came muffled sounds from behind the closed door, she knew led to the bed-room, and then it inched open.

"… so what do you think, JARVIS?"

"The idea you've proposed is acceptable. For a short term solution."

Adler jumped hearing the ghostly voice, quickly covering her mouth so not to give away her position. "I knew you'd like it." The owner of the voice stepped into the room and Adler's eyes widened. It was Sherlock! The imposter: in scruffy trousers, bare footed and top-less continued to talk to thin air while flapping his hands around in wild gestures. He stopped in front of the fire-place lifting his hands to his chest, it was then Adler saw it was covered in slightly stained bandages. She watched with growing fascination as Sherlock's double un-clipped the safety pin, the strips of cloth unravelling and pooling at his feet. "Oh, thank GOD!" He hissed rubbing the sore muscles along his spine. "I fricking hate covering this thing up. It's a thing of mesmerising beauty. All blue and shiny…" Adler pressed herself closer while keeping the door steady. The man turned and she was blinded by blue light. It took her a second to realise that the light was coming from the imposter himself.

She had seen enough. Tip-toeing away to the top of the stairs Adler counted to five in her head and started walking back towards the door, making sure her heels clomped on the bare floor. " I know you don't like surprises," she said loudly, the noise of hasty shuffling inside told her she'd been heard and she tried to hide her grin, "but…" palms pressed to the door she pushed it wide open and threw her arms up, cocking her hips slightly. "SURPRISE!" She strolled into the chamber cheerfully, and not giving him a chance to compose himself, grabbed the sides of his face and planted a big, juicy smacker on the doubles lips, cooing "Miss me, Sherlock?" as she pulled away.

Tony's face was squashed between slender gloved hands, red lipstick smeared on his mouth and wearing a stunned expression. Hot damn! The lady in question was a hottie: luscious dark hair, sparkling dark eyes, a full and generous looking mouth and a figure to die for. And she knew Sherlock! Tony was torn between feeling jealous of the over-friendly relationship the two shared, or hurt that Sherlock's affections were directed elsewhere. But he decided to listen to his gut, and his gut was telling him that she was trouble.

Game on then.

With effort he managed to pry her grabby hands away, stepped back with a frown and crossed his arms. "What can I do for you?"

"Oohh. Don't be that, dearest. I come bearing good news." She reached in the neck-line of her jacket but Tony lashed out catching her wrist before she could grab anything. Her lips curled up into a half smirk. "Still suspicious?" She asked sweetly.

Tony eyes darkened for a second, "Have you given me a reason not to be?"

Oh, you're good. Adler thought. Not taking her eyes off Tony her hand continued its journey. Fingertips catching what she wanted she heard Tony's huff of breath as the back of his hand brushed against the delicate skin of her neck. With-drawing she produced a cream coloured envelope and waved it in his face. "I'm here on business, Sherlock. I have a client for you. A friend of mine wishes to engage your services."

"A client? For me?" The lady nodded holding out the envelope to him. He snatched it from her stood and with his back to her, tore it open and read its contents quickly:

Dear Sir,

I have recently arrived in London and have heard, from my friend Ms Adler, of your amazing talents for solving the unsolvable. I will get right to the point, I am in need of your expertise on a very important, and personal matter that I cannot (for legal reasons) put in this letter.

If you are available, I'm staying at The Grand hotel and would like to meet.

Any help would be greatly appreciated.

XX.

Tony narrowed his eyes at the letter and then lowered it. He turned to Ms Adler, now knowing her name, and cocked his head. "So she's a friend?"

"Yes. A very dear friend of mine."

"This note is very vague. No name and no reason why I should go. For all I know it could be a trap."

Adler gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Might be. Then again it might not." She sighed and got up, dusting down the front of her dress. "You decide to go or not. I've done by bit. But, for what it's worth, I think you should take it," she gestured around the room, "it looks like you're in-between jobs. Could be just the thing to stimulate the old grey matter." Tony didn't answer just fornwed. Another shrug," if you're gonna be doing the silent thing, I'm leaving."

She was half way to the door when she felt a hand wrap around her upper arm. She paused and turned slightly. Tony gazed at her hard, as if he was reading her. When he was done a smirk slowly formed on his mouth. My God, she thought, her knees going a little bit weak, You're beautiful. Returning the smirk, her heart fluttered just a bit when Tony's eyes darkened and then he spoke. "I will take the case, Ms Adler, but know this," the hand on her arm tightened, "If this is a trap I will hunt you down. Understand?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She pulled her arm free and reached up to fix her hat. "Come to the Grand as soon as you're able. Go to the front desk and ask for me." Leaning close a second time she planted the faintest of kisses on his lips and walk away smiling. "See you, Sherlock."

She left the room leaving Tony behind, gaping like fish.

A short ride and Adler knocked the door to Doctor Watson's surgery. A smartly dressed maid opened it and allowed her inside. She sat in the waiting room while the girl went to fetched Watson. When he came in and saw her sitting there his expression turned thunderous.

"What do you want?"

She stood reaching into her purse. "Don't be like that, Doctor. I have a message from Sherlock."

Watson's expression switched from thunderous to confuse. "Has something happened? He seemed fine the other day. Just back from a case in fact."

"No nothing's happened and yes he's just back from case. Been back for quite a while actually."

"Then why are you here?"

"For this." She pressed the letter into his hand and turned, "I'll see my-self out. Good-day, Doctor."

Once she was gone John entered his study, sat in his chair and sliced open the letter. He unfolded the paper and read.

My dear Watson,

The case with the rainbow coloured brooch turned into a wild goose chase. It turned out that, ironically, the butler did it. With no other cases to keep my-self busy with I decided to return early have been back in London for just over a week.

I wanted to surprise you with dinner and a show and made my way to Baker Street to change when I spied a cab pull up outside our home and you leaving it. I wanted to rush over and tell you all but I halted when I saw your companion step out behind you.

Now read what I've put next very carefully, John, I trust you've read my paper on the advances of medical research: it is possible to change a man's appearance so he looks like another. Before you think that he's an impostor, he isn't. His name is Tony Stark…yes, Watson, THE Tony Stark. I don't know how he got here or what he plans to do; I need you to find out on my behalf. I give my consent, before you ask, for you to try all and any means possible. Use you charm or just beat him to within an inch of his life or (if you like) pump him for information.

I'm counting on you John.

Yours Sherlock.

John stared at the letter. The man he saved in the alley was a fake? How could he have been so stupid?

He glanced at the wall-clock; he still had a few hours before he finished work. Re-reading the note he nodded, his mind made up and called in the young maid. Scribbling a short note he gave it to her with instructions to find a page boy and get him to deliver it to Mary. John knew Mary wouldn't like it that he had, once again, favoured Holmes to her but this time it was serious.

He just didn't know how serious.

I'm not happy with this one, but spent so long on it so I'm posting it as it is.

FYI: smut glasses are needed for the next one. You have been warned. M.x