Okay, so I lied.
But, in my defence, I HONESTLY thought this would be the last chapter, especially since the outline for it was so short. But then it just escalated and grew waaaaaay to long, so I divided it into two parts. Basically, this and the next chapter are the climatic point of this story, so I hope you enjoy :)
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Time passed, and hours slowly melted into days.
Irene's fingers and arms were already fully healed, her burns had been treated and all lethal drugs were completely out of her system. Physically, she had recovered very well.
Mentally… she was on the mend. She had always been strong and she was still strong. She had been weakened by her experience, and physical aspects of a relationship still made her apprehensive, but compared to the first night and the first couple of days, she was a lot better.
Lestrade still conducted interrogations with her, expanding more on her experience in the cellar, and going into more detail. Irene was relieved that he only went as far as she felt able to though, and that he allowed her certain freedom.
Sherlock was always present during these interrogations, acting as her moral support. His arms were always ready for her, soothing touches and gestures could calm her during the most horrible bits and smirks and smiles could amuse her when she needed to laugh. She relied on him as support and he made her interrogations a lot easier.
Other than that though, Sherlock wasn't with her. Irene missed him, and found herself almost looking forward to the interrogations, because that was the only time Sherlock was actually present. Lestrade always gave them five minutes to themselves at the beginning, so they could catch up for a bit.
Sherlock left after the interrogation was over, kissing her goodbye gently, and then running off with Lestrade to Mycroft, trying to find a possible lead on Moriarty. There were clues now, and Sherlock spent most of his time trying to figure out the possible destinations the consulting criminal could be at.
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Irene was discharged after another week, and suddenly wondered where she would go. Baker Street was the logical option, but she was worried that she might not be welcome there. She didn't think Sherlock would mind (although suddenly coexisting with him under one roof was something slightly different than to what they were used to, but their relationship was strong enough for them to overcome that without a problem.)
John however, was the main obstacle. He had been in to visit once during her stay, and the two of them had exchanged a few words and smiles, but it was clear that he was somewhat uncomfortable in her presence. She supposed that he had considered her to be dead for the whole of the last year, and had spent that time angry at himself for lying to his friend about her (Sherlock had told her about the whole Witness protection scheme, and Irene found the idea quite amusing).
However, a lot of tension still existed between her and the ex-army doctor, and she knew he still saw her as the dominatrix she no longer was.
He hadn't liked her very much when they had met, but he had respected her a little bit at least. She had made quite a startling impression on him, knowing that he was more of a ladies man, and appearing naked had certainly ensured that she had his full attention. He might even have liked her a little bit at the beginning, but it had gone downhill from there.
Drugging Sherlock had been the first instance where any friendly feelings he might have had had gone out the window. Flirting with Sherlock and playing with his emotions had made John rather protective of his then fairly inexperienced friend and pretending to be dead and messing Sherlock up completely had been the turning point. John couldn't stand her after that, and certainly hated her for the whole situation on the jumbo jet. Basically, she wasn't in his good books.
She had changed a lot since then, and her relationship with Sherlock had ceased to be manipulation and a game of cat and mouse, but she knew that John still didn't view her as the woman she was now (or who she had really been all along, without realising it), but as the amoral dominatrix who would do absolutely anything to get what she wanted.
The relationship between her and John was still tense, and she was worried that he wouldn't want her at Baker Street.
Luckily for her, however, John had simply shrugged his shoulders and agreed, especially when he had seen Sherlock's expression and become scared of what would happen to him should he disagree. He was aware that Sherlock did really care for Irene, but he didn't exactly want to get caught up between their messed up relationship.
Over the few days that Irene moved into Baker Street however, John realised that Irene and Sherlock's relationship might not have been as messed up as he originally thought. The two respected each other; they even trusted each other, which came as a surprise. Sherlock was a lot gentler and kinder with Irene around, and caring to an extent that shocked both John and Mrs Hudson. Neither of them had known Sherlock to be affectionate in any sense, but there was no other word for it. He would hug Irene when there was no reason for it, kiss her forehead and smile at her, and John enjoyed observing the complete surrealism of it all.
Irene had changed too, John was pleased to note. Much like Sherlock she had become kinder and gentler, and not as manipulative and predator like. Especially after her attack, she showed vulnerability that hadn't been there before.
Over time, John talked to her, and got to know her, and was quite shocked that he actually really liked her. She was funny and witty, but not as ferocious, and their friendship developed to the point where Irene described it to be similar to a brother-sister relationship.
Mrs Hudson also had a soft spot for Irene, completely delighted that Sherlock had finally managed to find himself someone. Irene was frequently subjected to hugs and affectionate words, and was treated liked Mrs Hudson's own granddaughter.
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Sherlock was still absent quite often, working with Mycroft to track down Moriarty, and Irene didn't make much of a secret of the fact that she hoped Sherlock wouldn't find him. She wanted Sherlock to stay with her, she liked the life the two of them currently led, and she was terrified that Moriarty would ruin all of that.
Sherlock knew that he was playing right into Moriarty's hands, but his conviction that the criminal needed to be stopped was greater. Mycroft supported him in this.
So when Sherlock finally came back a week after Irene had moved into Baker Street with the news that he had a firm lead on Moriarty, Irene wasn't happy.
At all.
She had tried subtly to talk him out of it, but he was determined. Moriarty needed to be stopped, whatever the cost. Irene understood, and she knew very well that the cost could prove to be Sherlock's life.
He knew the same, as did Mycroft, but both of them didn't seem to care.
Unfortunately, Irene had absolutely no drugs on hand to stop Sherlock from leaving to track down Moriarty, and had no idea what to do. John seemed to take it in his stride, and although not happy that Sherlock was leaving to chase down the world's most dangerous criminal, he seemed reassured by knowing that Mycroft would take maximum security measures.
He didn't get that that meant nothing.
Sherlock feared Irene's reaction to the news, and was on high alert the whole evening, should she try something to get him to stay with her.
"Please" was all she had said, when he told her. "It's dangerous, and you know exactly how much."
He hadn't said anything to that, knowing that Irene spoke the truth.
She had gone to sleep early after drinking a cup of black tea, and Sherlock had stayed slightly suspicious, but was fairly sure that she wouldn't try anything. After all, she understood that Moriarty needed to be stopped better than any other person.
When he himself had gone to bed, with the intent to travel the next morning, he had discovered that Irene was not asleep.
Instead she had been waiting for him, and Sherlock had no idea what she was going to do when she stepped towards him. All he knew was that he leant in to hug her and then…
She was everywhere suddenly; her arms draped around his neck, her body pressed right up against his, while he half stood there, completely shell shocked.
He found himself kissing her back, not completely, but quick, desperate kisses in response to hers, while his arms almost unconsciously went to her back and into her hair, right before he realised what the two of them were doing, and what effect this could have on Irene. His mind suddenly kicked into action and Sherlock breathed out, breaking the kiss. His hands went to her wrists instead, gently but firmly pulling her hands away from the buttons on his shirt, and he pulled away from her.
He had been taken completely by surprise, he had definitely not expected Irene to try anything like this.
Her look almost haunted him.
Irene looked so hurt, like he had rejected her, like he didn't want her because other men had had her. His eyes widened in response to the way she stared at him, and he thought he saw her almost tear up.
She continued looking at him, mouth slightly open, breathing hard, like him.
"Are you sure?" he asked then, between heavy breaths. She nodded, almost stubbornly, and immediately leant in to kiss him, her hands going back to the task of getting his shirt unbuttoned and off. He didn't react for a second, kissing her back before he realised what he was doing and put his hands on her hips to gently push her off him.
"Irene" he said, a frown now marring his features, keeping hold of her, stopping her. He knew she didn't want him to leave, but he had not expected this.
A full blown seduction attempt? Irene had only gotten comfortable enough to actually let him kiss her a week ago, for god's sake, and now she decided that she was ready for this?
He realised she probably wasn't ready for it at all, and that it was simply the hurt and fear and anger manifesting itself to the point where she considered sex to be the solution and the only way to keep him with her. But she had been so hesitant the rest of the time, only allowing gentle touches and fleeting kisses, never giving any indication of wanting more for the time being. If she wasn't ready, then she shouldn't go on with this.
"Irene" he said again, his breathing still slightly heavy, but his voice calmer now. "You should think about this."
She shook her head, hands once again going to him, but he stopped her. "Are you sure?" he asked her again, his voice piercing, worried for her. One hand gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She nodded again, but realised that it wouldn't work on Sherlock.
"Yes" she breathed out finally, and she sounded fairly convinced, although it seemed to take her some effort to finally say it. Sherlock looked at her, trying to see how she felt beneath her expression, but she was still a mystery to him.
"Please Sherlock" she finally managed, her breathing ragged. "I'm fine, please. You're leaving and if anything happens then - ". Her voice broke slightly, and Sherlock realised, she honestly thought he didn't want her. The realisation shocked him to the point where he ended up drawing Irene to him.
"You're sure?" he breathed into her ear, and she nodded once more, before finally kissing Sherlock again. This time, Sherlock let her, and lost himself as well.
He vaguely remembered the hurried frenzy to the bed, and relishing the feeling of her completely in his arms again, so small, but certainly not fragile. The need, desperation, passion and emotion finally broke through completely, tearing down every barrier, and Sherlock's mind blacked out.
Neither was sure if John or Mrs Hudson heard them and neither really cared. Both were completely lost in each other.
Much later, when they both lay on the bed panting, did rational thought kick in again.
Irene drew herself closer to Sherlock, until she arranged herself in a position where Sherlock's arms were fully around her, holding her next to him so that if he tried to get up, she would wake up. Sherlock smiled slightly, but he let her, and even pulled her to him. She fell into a half sleep with her arms half around his neck, and head on his chest. His fingers combed through her hair gently.
"Stay" was all she managed to breathe out, before her eyes closed, but Sherlock knew that she wasn't asleep. She was determined, waiting for his answer, and she wasn't going to rest or let herself relax in any way until he confirmed it.
"Please Sherlock" she whispered against his skin when he didn't say anything. Sherlock sighed slightly, but nodded.
"Yes" he said quietly, his eyes closed, but with no intention of going to sleep. Irene seemed satisfied.
"Thank you" she almost sighed and her breathing pattern slowed. Sherlock was sure she was a sleep, but he was wrong.
"I love you" she breathed sleepily, and Sherlock froze, completely for a second, before his muscles relaxed. His mind however, was still in complete shock.
Irene had now finally drifted off to sleep, but Sherlock just lay there, staring at her.
She loved him.
To say it came as a complete surprise was not true, because she was the only one he had ever really shared a close relationship with, in any way, not just physical. He knew the same went for her (even with her profession and marriage), and so what they had was special. In a way, he had known it was love, but that word had never been spoken, neither of them had liked it. Maybe because it had meant that neither of them had had to face up to reality.
But now reality was staring him right in the face, at the worst possible time.
Sherlock groaned to himself inwardly, caught in this conflict of interest. He smirked briefly at how that would sound to John – the army doctor would more likely call it a conflict of life and death, but Sherlock thought that was a bit dramatic.
He had promised Irene (the woman who apparently loved him, and who he had to admit that he might love back) that he would stay, but his meaning of that word currently differed from hers. She desperately wanted him to stay with her in Baker Street, and not just for the night, but permanently. She didn't want him to go after Moriarty, and wanted to keep him by her side, which was probably the reason she had all but wrapped herself around him. He, in turn, knew that going after Moriarty was absolutely necessary, because otherwise he would only injure or kill others to provoke Sherlock. Moriarty had also made it clear that he wanted to be found now – the lead Sherlock had gotten was barely riddled with clues and a fairly obvious hint. If Moriarty didn't want to be found, then he could go straight back into hiding like he had when Lestrade had found Irene. Moriarty wanted to play, and that was the only reason he had decided to reveal himself. If he hadn't wanted Sherlock to come after him, he would have remained untraceable.
Sherlock had promised to stay, yes, but he only meant for the night. The next morning he would need to leave, and Irene knew that. Sherlock was scared that she had something else up her sleeve to keep him with her, because she had submitted far too easily. It may have just been the light drug he had slipped in her evening cup of tea, he supposed, but it had been a very weak dose, so that it wouldn't interfere with any of her other medication.
If her submission had anything to do with the fact that she trusted him to remain with her, then he felt horrible for what he was going to do. But he had made his plans clear, both to her and John.
For now however, he simply lay there, enjoying the fact that he had a few precious hours to simply spend holding Irene, stroking her hair, and appreciating the feeling that she was in his arms. Neither of them were people to really cuddle or be overly affectionate with each other, or at least, they certainly hadn't been before the attack. Now however, Sherlock felt better when she was in his arms, and he couldn't really see why he had found the idea so ridiculous before.
She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed and hair loose, and it was one of the most vulnerable times he had ever seen her. He had always liked to observe her when she slept, because she showed sides of herself he didn't always get to see. Neither of them always completely revealed each other, even after all this time, and Sherlock realised that neither of them would probably never completely drop their mask. They did trust each other, especially after all this, but keeping that one small part of themselves hidden from everyone else, even from themselves was simply part of who they were, and it would never really change.
He sighed, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand, and checking his watch. He only had a few hours left.
He felt her shiver suddenly, and realised she was cold, even though there was a sheet covering them. He smiled to himself suddenly, and skilfully untangled himself from her, without waking her. He picked his shirt up from the floor from where it had been discarded in the hurried haste (coincidentally it was Irene favourite purple one) and, feeling almost silly for such behaviour, he slipped it around her shoulders and slowly started buttoning it up.
He was aware that dressing Irene in his shirt wasn't just to keep her warm (he could simply have gotten her an extra blanket), but a stupidly sentimental move which he somehow couldn't bring himself to ignore. He wanted her to have that little piece of him when she woke up alone in the morning, wanted her to know that he didn't want to leave.
She mumbled slightly as he finished, but stayed asleep. Sherlock smiled at her, before he climbed back into bed.
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Before he left he sent a text to his brother.
Put MAXIMUM surveillance on Baker Street. And maximum surveillance on Irene. – SH
You plan to go then? – MH
Yes. – SH.
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The next and final chapter for this story is already written, and the update time depends entirely on the number of reviews I get.
Yeah...this trick worked quite well last time, and I thought it was a shame not to use it again.
So people, please review! This story has been an awesome journey for me, especially trying to write these two complex characters in such a situation, and I would really, really appreciate your thoughts and opinions. I know that there are a lot of people who favourited or alerted to this story (thank you, I'm touched) but lots that didn't bother to review, and I would love you to leave behind an opinion now, when this story is so close to ending.
Anyways, that's all from my side.
Laura xx