Chapter 3:

After a silent drive back to their hotel, they climbed out of the cab. She didn't look at him as they walked into the lobby and up the stairs at a rather quick pace. She wasn't in the mood for a silent lift. When they reached their room, Irene opened the door and passed Sherlock his jacket again before sitting down in the armchair.
Sherlock took the coat from her and laid it over the back of a chair. He sat down on the couch and undid his cuff links, glancing any where but in her general direction.
She watched him, growing tired of the silence quickly. She leaned forward and gazed into his eyes.
"So, did you enjoy dinner?" She murmured with a smirk.
"It was fine." He said quietly.
She raised an eyebrow " 'Fine?' "
"Yes. Fine." He repeated, looking away in annoyance.
She rolled her eyes at his tone. If she was going to keep him here, possibly for days. She would have to try harder. She crossed her legs, revealing almost all of the pale skin of one leg.
"Why only fine?"
He glanced out of the corner of his eye, annoyed.
"Think. 'It's the new sexy.'" He mocked.
She smirked slightly. "Is it because I kissed you?" Her eyes danced a little.
He quirked his eyebrow, "Well done."
She rolled her eyes. "It was barely a kiss, it could have been a lot worse... or better. Depending on your perspective."
"It was unwanted, nevertheless." He said icily.
"You didn't seem to mind." She pointed out with a wink.
He looked at her in confusion. "I don't know what you're referring to."
"Of course you don't." She murmured before standing up and slowly walking to sit next to him, her elbow resting on the back of the sofa and her cheek rested on her hand. She watched his face, before reaching over to slowly straighten his bow tie, their faces, an inch away from each other, causing their breath to mingle.
"There, it was annoying me." She murmured, gazing into his eyes.
He swallowed at her close proximity.
"Thanks." He muttered, under his breath, his eyes lost in hers. He could feel the warmth of her voice on his lips and the light pressure of her delicate hand on his neck. His eyes darted to her lips.
Irene was almost completely lost in the moment. She could feel the heat from his skin, the feather light touch of his breath on her mouth. She leaned in slightly, their noses brushing, almost as if she was going to kiss him again. However, she managed to stop herself from doing so.
"You're welcome." She breathed, almost silently.
Sherlock shifted in his seat, moving away from her as best he could. He cleared his throat and looked around.
Irene blinked and leant back into her original seating permission acting as though nothing had happened.
"I think it's sweet that you came back here to watch John. You obviously care a great deal about him, not many people would go to such lengths to ensure the safety of theirboyfriend... Sorry. Flatmate." She murmured with a smirk.
Sherlock growled lowly, "We're. Not. A. Couple!"
She smiled. "Yes you are." However, upon seeing the expression on Sherlock's face, she relented a little.
"Alright, calm down. I'm not implying a sexual attachment." She thought for a moment. "Yet, anyway. But you two have one of those..." She wrinkled her nose a little. "Emotional connections. Like a couple."
"I wouldn't know." He muttered.
"Yes you do. If I-having never been in the same situation, myself-can see it, then you certainly can. Even if you don't recognise it for what it is." She shrugged slightly.
"I disagree, Miss Adler." He responded, lifting his head slightly.
She raised an eyebrow and leaned forward once again, keeping slightly more distance between their faces this time.
"Come now, there must be a heart hiding behind that cold exterior of yours." She murmured, placing a hand on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat under her fingers, confirming her statement. It seemed to quicken at her touch. She quirked an eyebrow, unsure whether she had imagined it or not. Perhaps it was only her own pulse in her fingertips.
His eyes darted to her hand then back to her eyes. He gave a look of warning, before placing his hand over hers, letting it sit there for a moment. Her skin was warm and smooth. He slowly pulled her hand away, placing it on her thigh. His hand lingered longer than he would have liked.
Her breath hitched slightly in her throat and she glanced down at his hand on her thigh. She decided to push things a little further. She stood up and put one leg either side of Sherlock's and sat down. Straddling him.
"Well, Mr Holmes. We've established that you have a heart... what else do you have?" She glanced down at his groin before looking back at his face, a wink in her eye.
Sherlock shrank back into his seat as she straddled his lap, retreating in horror and anxiety. "Wh-what are you doing?!" He stammered, teeth clenched.
"Hmm." She mused. "Call it an experiment." She smirked.
His brow furrowed in confusion and discomfort. "Get. Off." He hissed, holding his hands up, away from her body.
"I'm not exactly sure I want to. In fact, I'm certain I don't." She wriggled slightly, making herself comfortable.
His nose wrinkled. "Miss Adler," he growled, "I said, get off."
"Are you offering?" She said with a wink. "I mean we do have a hotel room to ourselves and it is getting rather late." She put her arms up in a mock stretch, the material of her dress straining over her chest.
"I don't know what you mean." He replied. Her chest was dangerously close to his face-and due to her movements, it was bulging rather obviously. He swallowed, forcing his eyes upwards.
"I was being indelicate." She murmured leaning forward, forcing him to look in her eyes.
"I'd be delicate but we did just have dinner." She continued.
"What are you talking about?." He choked out, hands still up, his eyes darting about the room, looking anywhere but at her.
Irene relished his obvious awkwardness. She slowly gripped his chin between her fingers, forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Mr. Holmes, you asked me to get off. Even you must see the obvious double entendre." She breathed.
He narrowed his eyes, slowly understanding her meaning. "You know what I meant." He replied lowly.
"Hmmm... Do I? I'm not so sure I do." She purred.
He flexed his jaw. "Miss Adler..." He warned, through gritted teeth.
"Besides, this is my experiment. You especially must understand the importance of an experiment." A small smirk spread across her face as an idea popped into her mind. She slowly began to roll her hips into his as she maintained eye contact.
He felt her pelvis make contact with his own, her arse grinding into his groin. His face contorted in disgust and outrage. He stood up swiftly causing her to slide off of him, leaving them chest to chest in a standoff.
She looked up at him, her eyes dark. Not moving away from him..
"I'm sorry, was I making you feel uncomfortable?" She murmured.
Sherlock tensed his muscles, willing himself to regain control. "I don't appreciate such cheap, predictable actions." He hissed.
She was speechless for a moment, his words resonating through her. Cheap. She was not cheap. She would not let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he had affected her with his words. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Wow. Sex really does alarm you doesn't it?" She half spat before stepping away from him. "I'm going for a shower. Do what you want." She stalked into the bathroom and resisted the urge to slam the door.
He stepped aside allowing her to pass before crossing to lean against the window. He closed his eyes, face tense. He breathed slowly. He had had enough of her games and antics. She was testing him, in some way. But why?
Irene leaned against the door for a moment, closing her eyes. Why did he not react like all other men? If he did then it would be so much easier. She sighed. Her usual games certainly were not going to work. She would have to make him think she had given up, that she was no longer playing 'the game.' Her face twisted up into a cold smile. She had to make him think that she had feelings for him. Emotional ones. Catch him off guard. Make him think she was vulnerable. She stepped out of her dress and turned the shower on before stepping in.
Sherlock undid his bowtie tossing it casually on the bed. He undid a few buttons and looked out the window. He silently cursed himself for agreeing to stay with her. He should have fled the moment he heard her voice.
She didn't stay in the shower as long as she would have liked. She enjoyed having the cool water run over her. It calmed her down. She wanted to get this all over and done with. Sherlock Holmes was an anomaly and the sooner he was out of her life...the better. She tried to convince herself. However, she knew that on some level-she wasn't sure which-life would certainly be more dull when he was gone. She shut off the water and stepped out. She quickly dried herself before putting on her green nightgown and stepping out of the bathroom. Avoiding eye contact with Sherlock.
He remained fixed in his spot, his stare focussed out the window, as he heard her re-enter the room. He closed his eyes again wishing himself away, far away from her.
Irene closed her eyes for a moment, blocking everything out. Her plan forming in her head. From what she'd gained from past experience, he was more likely to 'help' her when she was vulnerable. The first time with the email and the second time when she was about to be killed. She let her usual mask slip and put a new one in place, one that made her seem vulnerable. She kept her eyes closed.
"You can leave if you want" She murmured in a low voice. "I'll pay for another room for you, if it's what you wish." Her voice sounded perfect, not her usual confident tone. She had never given him an option before.
He turned around to face her, his eyes sweeping over her voluptuous form. The nightgown was plunging and her skin looked cool, like marble. He drank her in, for only a moment, before regaining control.
"If that's what you'd like." He answered dully.
She glanced up at him. "I don't mind. I have the funds if you wish to have your own space." She bit her lip, looking away as if she wanted to say more. She could play the damsel in distress perfectly.
"It's up to you." He muttered, glancing down.
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Sherlock. I'm giving you a choice. Choose." She murmured.
He sighed and glanced up at her, a little shocked. She had called him Sherlock. Not Mr. Holmes. He was conflicted. He should want to take her offer. It didn't make any sense. He couldn't understand why he wanted to stay.
"I'm fine here." He answered, trying to sound indifferent.
Irene glanced back up at him, she would have smirked if she wasn't trying to fool him.
"Oh. Well, if you're sure." She looked down again as if in thought.
Sherlock cocked his head as he scanned her behaviour. She was acting differently. Softer, somehow, or more fragile. This was the Irene Adler he had seen all those months ago.
He took a step towards her, surprising himself.
"Why?" He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
She shook her head slightly, focussing on the present again. She looked up at him, noting his movement .
"Why, what?" She asked, confusion in her eyes.
"Why did you offer?" He repeated lowly.
"Despite what you think of me, Mr Holmes. I do not keep people against their will."
She paused, trying to think of the words.
"I don't want you to feel like...like you have to stay here."
He furrowed his brows, her words disarming him. He was unsure how to respond to such consideration.
"I don't." He replied quietly.
She narrowed her eyes at his response, but saw it as an opening. She slowly walked up to stand in front of him, placing a hand on his wrist. He would think she was merely repeating what she had done by the fireplace, but in reality, she was checking his pulse. Elevated. She gazed into his eyes, she couldn't tell in this light if they were dilated or not. However, she was taken by surprise and her fake emotional mask slipped a little, showing her confusion. She was confused by his reaction but also by herself. She hated this man. She had told herself that every day since her 'death.' Her life would have been better if she had never met Sherlock Holmes. The great detective in the funny hat. Again, she hated him she told herself. So then, why on earth did it matter to her so much that his pulse was elevated? Was it just because it would make her plan easier or was there something...more?
He glared at her, turning his hand around to feel her wrist as well. He counted mentally. It was definitely raised. He studied her pupils, they grew as he did so. He smirked knowingly. He leaned around her face as he had done that fateful night to whisper in her ear,
"Why are you really back in London, Miss Adler?"
With those words, Irene snapped back to her plans. It was now or never. Her mask came back up, however, her eyes hardened a little. Yes, she hated this man. She bit down on her lip slightly and closed her eyes.
"It's better that you don't know." She murmured quietly.
"I'm going to have to disagree." He countered, his voice like velvet on steel.
"Fine." She kept her eyes closed. "It's safer if you don't know."
"'Safe' is boring." He spat, his mouth hovering by her ear.
She opened her eyes, her own searching his. "Fine, if you insist." She took a deep breath. "I'm going to die. Soon." She murmured simply.