CHAPTER 4

Sherlock's breath hitched. His mind was reeling. If this was a joke, need he remind her that it was an old one?! Still, she looked serious, and frightened.
"W-what do you mean?" He stuttered.
A thrill went through Irene, she told herself that it was just because it would make her plan so much easier, not that she liked the fact that he cared. She gulped and looked away from his eyes.
"I mean, someone is going to kill me. And he can't be stopped. I've been running. Running for too long." Her voice sounded shaky, she should get an Oscar for this, or at least consider a career in acting.
"Who?" He asked, concern flooding through his voice.
"Sebastian Moran." She winced at the name. "He was Moriarty's right hand man, used to be in the army. Dishonourable discharge. He was also Moriarty's best sniper."
"And why does he want you dead?" He questioned.
She looked back up at him. "Why does anyone want me dead? I had something of theirs, something they wanted back. Unfortunately, everything I had was given to Mycroft in the form of my camera phone." It took a lot of effort to keep the bitterness from her voice as she lied fluidly. "Now he is rather...annoyed at me." She murmured, reading his expression.
He furrowed his brows. "And I take it they found out about your...rescue?"
She nodded. "I'm surprised it took him this long to find me. Moriarty found out a while before his death and tasked Moran with finding me." She lied smoothly.
"So you've come back to London to retrieve the phone?"
She shook her head. "I can't get it back. I've already tried that." She exhaled "No, I've come here to say goodbye."
His eyes narrowed. "I don't believe that you'd surrender your life so easily, Miss Adler. That would be mad."
Hurt flashed across her face and she stepped away from him, pretending to try and regain composure.
"Surrender? Don't you think I've tried everything? Don't you think that I have considered every option?" She ran a shaky hand through her hair. "Running was my final option and I'm tired of it. My life isn't what it once was anyway. If I'm going to die, let me die." She murmured.
He studied her. "I can protect you."
She glanced up at him, letting shock and hope flick across her face. "Really? Why would you do that?" She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Same reason why I saved your life. Respect." He lied.
"You saved my life out of respect? And you would protect me out of respect?" She mused for a moment. "That's a lot of respect. You're risking your life."
He ignored her prior comment focusing on the latter, "Risking my life is something I'm quite used to."
She nodded. "Yes but you're risking your life...for me".
"I did it once before, I don't see a reason not to do it again." He replied offhandedly.
"Thank you..." She murmured, looking into his eyes. "However, what makes you think you can protect me from them? You weren't even aware of Moran's existence."
"If I successfully outwitted and outlived Moriarty I believe I can do the same with this man." He answered confidently, annoyed at her lack of faith in him.
Irene nodded "On your own head be it, literally."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take." He answered shortly.
She refused to let his words have an impact on her. She stepped forward again to stand in front of him.
"Thank you. I mean it, really." She gazed up into his eyes with a small smile.
"There's no need to thank me." He replied curtly. "I told you. Respect."
"Even so." She murmured, "You're still risking your life. So it still deserves a thank you. Just accept it." She smirked a little.
"You're welcome." He offered lowly.
Irene was about to say something when her phone buzzed. She stepped away from Sherlock, facing out of the window and read the text.
"We'll pick up Sherlock Holmes in 48 hours. Keep him occupied until then. Shouldn't be too hard. SM". She smiled briefly before putting her phone away again. "Sorry about that." She turned back to Sherlock with a smile.
Sherlock glanced at the bed. "I suppose we should arrange our sleeping situation." He murmured.
"Well. It's a pretty big bed." She motioned to the bed with a smirk. "I promise to stay fully clothed and on my side."
"The floor is fine." He replied.
She rolled her eyes. "If you're supposed to be protecting me then it's important that you get a good nights sleep. If it bothers you that much then I'll sleep on the floor."
"Fine." He relented. "Though I don't need much sleep anyways."
"Is it fine, you want me on the floor? Or fine, we'll both take the bed?" She smirked.
"The latter." He answered stiffly.
"Great." She grinned before turning and half throwing herself onto the bed. Carefully, however, due to wearing her nightdress, which was draped rather precariously. She sat on one side and crossed her legs.
He sat down opposite her, unbuttoning his shirt more. He whipped his belt off and threw it on the couch.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, when you said we should both take the bed. I didn't realise that was what you were proposing." She said with a wink.
He turned his head to face hers, furrowing his brows, "What?" He asked, confused by her statement.
She motioned to his unbuttoned shirt and to his beltless trousers. "You're almost stripping off." She said with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes. "Is that the only thing you think about?" He asked curtly.
She considered this. "It's the main thing I think about. But to be fair, it is my job so just consider how often the average person focuses on their work." She grinned.
He shook his head, disregarding her statement.
"Do you need the bathroom? I want to take a shower." He said, standing up.
She shook her head. "Go for it. Just don't use the good shower gel." She looked at him with a mock stern expression.
He ignored her comment, heading to the toilet. He shut the door and sighed. He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and then stripped off his pants and boxer briefs. He got in the shower letting the warm water cascade down his body. He washed up, taking his time. Anything to avoid having to be face-to-face with 'The Woman.' He finished up, got out and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. He grabbed his clothes and walked out the bathroom door, forgetting she was there.
She glanced up when he walked back in and froze, any witty remark she had, evaporated at the sight of him, wearing only a towel, hair dripping and steam coming off his body. She gulped, trying to recollect herself.
He glanced at her wondering what on earth she was looking so wide-eyed about.
"What?" He sneered.
She shook her head slightly, snapping back to her right mind. "You used the good shower gel didn't you?" She smirked.
He avoided her question, crossing to his bag where he retrieved a clean pair of black-boxer briefs and his pyjama bottoms. He headed back to the bathroom and put them on. He ran a towel over his hair before exiting. He crossed to the bed and sat down.
While Sherlock had gotten changed, Irene had leant backwards, lying down, her head on a pillow. She felt the bed move when he sat on it and she stared at the ceiling, thinking.
He stole a look at her before arranging himself so that he was sitting against the headboard. He brought his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, fighting the awkwardness in the air. As he shifted his position an item slipped from his pocket. A camera phone. A very specific camera phone. He looked down, having felt it fall out, his eyes widened in horror. He quickly went to grab it, praying she was looking the other way.
Irene felt the object fall near her head, her hand flew up automatically towards it and her eyes widened in shock as her fingers wrapped around a very familiar object. She sat bolt upright and looked down at the camera phone in her hands. She was speechless.
His eyes locked on her hand-which was holding the phone. He closed his eyes bracing himself for the onslaught.
She turned the object around in her fingers. It was definitely hers, she would recognise it anywhere. She tried to unlock it, the passcode was the same, she punched in the oh-so-familiar 4 letters to make 'I am SHERlocked'. However the phone was completely empty, this didn't surprise her. She locked the phone and held onto it, her knuckles going white, her eyes still wide. She glanced up at Sherlock.
"Why...Why do you have my camera phone?" She murmured, her voice a little shaky. Not by choice this time.
He opened his eyes slowly, glancing up at her. "I-I kept it.." He stuttered, knowing there was no fooling her.
"Why?" She asked, confusion colouring her words. She could hear her heart drumming in her ears.
"A souvenir..." He replied archaically.
"A souvenir? Of what?" She murmured, still gripping the phone.
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "Of that case."
"Do you usually keep souvenirs of your cases?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Y-yes." He mumbled.
She narrowed her eyes, "Okay, what are your other souvenirs?"
"I'm not going to list them for you!" He snapped, his anger and frustration at the situation mounting.
She rested the camera phone under her chin, an action so familiar to her.
"Okay. Then tell me this. Why was this particular souvenir in your pyjamas?"
His nostrils flared. He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but closed it quickly. "M-must have slipped in them..." He mumbled, groaning internally at his shit of an excuse.
Irene couldn't help the corners of her mouth from pulling up slightly, sentiment. It was sentiment that caused Sherlock Holmes to keep her phone. She slowly reached over to his left hand and put the phone in it, curling his fingers around it before letting go and lying back down.
She closed her eyes. Ignoring her emotions yet again. This was going to be much easier than she had thought.
He swallowed as she gave him back the phone. A silent understanding between them. He took it back, slipping it inside his pocket once more.
She kept her eyes closed as she murmured "You know, I'm surprised that Mycroft let you keep that. Thought it would be," She raised her hands to do air quotation marks "'government property'."
"John got it for me. Or rather let me have it." He answered quietly, looking away.
She nodded. "I see. Does Mycroft not know you have it?"
"I'm sure he noticed it missing from your file. He'd have to be blind not to." He replied.
She nodded again. "Yet, he's let you keep it?"
"Apparently." He glanced at her.
She sensed that he would say no more on the topic and so turned to face him and opened her eyes, catching the glance he had given her.
He searched her eyes momentarily before tearing away. He exhaled before slipping down to a reclined position. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Her eyes ran over him once. He was still shirtless. She watched his face for a moment before murmuring "Have you ever kissed anyone before?"
He turned his head, leering at her, "What?!"
"It's a simple enough question, Mr Holmes. Do I need to repeat it?" She asked with a smirk.
"Why are you asking me that?" His eyes returning back to the ceiling.
"Because we're going to be stuck together in a hotel room for at least a couple of days and I'd rather we spent it chatting than in total silence. Also I'm interested in the answer." She murmured, trying to read his expression.
"And what makes you think I'd even answer that question? Besides, you know very well the answer, having kissed me yourself earlier this evening."
"Exactly, I kissed you. the question was whether or not you had kissed anyone. Also when I say kiss, I don't mean just a brief touching of lips like the one I gave you." She replied, lowly.
He locked eyes with her before glancing down, deciding to answer honestly, not in the mood to bicker at the moment, "No."
"Have you ever wanted to kiss anyone?" She pressed, surprised by his honesty.
"Why would I ever feel such a base desire?" He spat.
"Don't bite my head off." She rolled her eyes. "It was merely a question. A simple no would have sufficed."
"Then n-no." He lied, his voice faltering.
She narrowed her eyes and studied his face for a moment, trying to read his expression.
She couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or not, she reached out a hand and lightly trailed her fingers up and down his bare arm. "Really? Never?" She murmured.
He tensed at her touch, his eyes locking with hers from his peripheral vision.
"N-no." He swallowed. "What makes you think otherwise?"
She traced a pattern at the crease of his elbow, smirking when it rose goosebumps. "No reason at all..." She purred.
He wrinkled his nose, annoyed at her familiarity. "Perhaps it's time you go to sleep." He hissed.
She sighed. "You're probably right." She pulled her hand away from him. She continued to face him however, putting her hands under her head and closing her eyes. "I am pretty comfortable." She smirked, closing her eyes.
Sherlock sighed and got in bed, inching as far away from her as he could. He turned to glance at her one last time, his eyes lingering longer than he would have liked. He turned back and sighed. He wrinkled his nose, relenting, before slipping his hand in his pocket and cradling the camera phone, closing his eyes, before drifting off to sleep