"Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes? However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait."

"You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?"

"No, I think you're damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case it's yourself."

-A Scandal in Belgravia

She waited. Patiently, she waited for him to come, to pay her a visit. They had obviously already decided what to say and how to act in front of John, but Irene Adler had always written her own script. John Watson, Sherlock's friend. Practically his only friend. However, she was anxious about one thing. Her phone. She knew that the Americans sought for it, the British government craved it and Sherlock Holmes desperately wanted it too. Though, nobody knew where she had hidden it. Not even Sherlock. And if someone found and stole it, she would take it back. Abruptly, the doorbell rang and interrupted her considerations.

Well, well. This could be interesting.

She wanted to tease Sherlock to the limit, and remained therefore completely naked. She smiled briefly and took a deep breath before she entered the room with her head high in the air and her heart beating hard in her chest. Though, she felt, for the first time possibly ever, doubt. She doubted their plan. It was almost too ingenious and too complicated to function outside the brains of him and her. But the show must go on. And if Freddie Mercury could do it with pneumonia and AIDS, she wouldn't be worse. She wouldn't fail the plan. And she wouldn't fail Sherlock. But she was certainly going to have fun on his behalf.

"I'm sorry to hear that you've been hurt. I don't think Kate caught your name."

"I'm so sorry, I'm…" The look on his face was simply priceless, and his entire appearance screamed "Is this really necessary, Irene?" as he glared at her. She smiled smugly. She had once more succeeded to take the great detective by surprise.

"Oh, it's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright. Isn't it?" She snatched his clerical collar as she approached him. "There now. We're both defrocked. Mr. Sherlock Holmes." She gave him a sharp, though yet amused, glance. Try to behave naturally, dear. Enjoy yourself.

"Ms. Adler, I presume." He raised an eyebrow. Well, it's not like you're making it easy.

"Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?" She decided to push him further and took the actual collar between her sharp teeth. Suddenly, they were interrupted by footsteps and a loud voice that most definitely belonged to John Watson.

"Right, this should do it." He looked, to say the least, flabbergasted. "I've missed something haven't I?" So this was the famous army doctor, John Watson. Sherlock's friend and colleague. Irene felt almost disappointed. He was not one of them. He was not brilliant (she knew this simply because Sherlock had told her), extremely sexy (she could judge this by herself) or an arrogant arse (well..?). How could Sherlock be so… attached to him? As she approached John to study him more closely, she caught Sherlock's gaze. How tactical of you, Irene. She smiled to herself and took a seat.

"Please, sit down. Or if you'd like some tea I could call the maid."

"I had some at the palace." He frowned slightly as they stared at each other. Great first impression, by the way.

"I know, don't you think?" She answered aloud. John looked confused and Sherlock simply kept his expression nonaligned.

"I had tea too at the palace, if anyone's interested."

"Well, how was it done? The hiker and the car?" She winked at Sherlock's unemotional façade. He looked slightly disturbed as he answered.

"That's not what I came for." Start behaving yourself, now.

"No, you came for the information your brother wants. But that's not going to happen, so since we're just chatting anyway. How was it done?" She frowned. Well, tell me and I'll start behaving. I know you want to play, honey. Why do you act so differently just because your doctor is here?

It was exactly as he had feared. It was not going to happen. But he needed the phone, he needed control. Unfortunately, he was also addicted to the thrill of their game. He looked at her, rather intensely. Are you sure you want to play? Now?

Why not, darling?

AN: Well. Three things.

Yes, I've always imagined that Sherlock and Irene can talk with their looks. So that's what they are doing in this chapter.

No, there will not be any specific photographs Mycroft wants in my story. Here it's simply 'information'. You will understand later.

Not all lines are the same, the plot isn't the same. It's not the same as "A scandal in Belgravia." Just so we're clear.

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