A/N: Hello! I would have updated earlier, but I left the first half of this chapter somewhere and can't find it, so I'm going by memory now, which is bad. I hope you're enjoying this! I know I love writing it. None of you guessed Sherlock's 'old friend,' but ye who said things about the Doctor, you are all wonderful.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved for BBC and its writers etc., I make no money off of this piece.
Just as Molly began to drift off to sleep, the train jerked to a stop and Sherlock hurried her off of it and into a waiting cab, directing the driver, in seemingly flawless French, to an unfamiliar address.
Some minutes later, the cab slowed and Sherlock handed the driver an exorbitant sum.
Molly looked up at the building, a tall stone affair with wrought iron balconies.
"Who d'you know who lives in Paris?" She asked, but got no response. Sherlock pressed on the doorbell.
Moments later, there was the sound of a bold being drawn back and the door opened on a surprisingly familiar face.
"Mr Holmes!" Irene Adler said, her face calm but her tone excited. "And Miss Hooper. What a pleasant surprise."
"Ms Adler. May we come in?" Irene nodded and led the way into the darkened vestibule.
"We need a place to stay for a bit; Miss Hooper here didn't realise she was dating Sebastian Moran." Sherlock explained. "I take it that you two don't need to be introduced?"
"We had the pleasure of meeting last Christmas." Irene smiled at Molly, who blushed. Irene had needed a body. She had reminded Molly so strikingly of Sherlock.
"I know." He smirked, and Molly's cheeks burned hotter than before.‑
"So, you've got Moran after you?" Irene asked, kicking off her heels and settling onto the sofa, gesturing for her company to be seated too. "Well, I certainly don't envy you that. He's a nasty piece of work. Moriarty's right-hand man. I met him a few times last year..." She gave a theatrical shudder and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"I am aware. I'm not here for your information about Mr Moran, although if you do have anything more specific about him, I'd be happy to hear it." Irene nodded and tapped something into her phone. "We need a place to stay, like I said. I take it you have room" He said, glancing up the stairs.
"For you, yes. But I will have clients, you know." Irene looked apologetic, but her eyes and voice were laughing.
"Cancel them."
"If I cancel them, I can't pay the rent. Then none of us will have a place to stay, and I daresay Mr Moran would like to have my head as well."
"Fine." Sherlock sounded vaguely annoyed. "What do you still have clients? I would have thought you would have known better, after Karachi..."
Irene rolled her eyes. "You were practically forced to kill yourself and as a result, you've had to hide from the world, but are you going to stop solving cases when you come back from the dead? I think not."
Sherlock shrugged. "Point taken. We'll see the rooms then?"
"I take it you'll be needing separate ones?"
"Of course we want separate rooms." He said, his voice reminiscent of John's when he had first arrived at 221B.
"Just checking." Irene winked at Molly, who turned her head away quickly, cheeks still red.
Gosh, sorry this is so short. I hope you enjoyed reading it and I hope to put up more soon. Although all of a sudden I am lacking in inspiration. Love you all for your kind reviews, etc.! xM