Well, a little treat for the Irene/Sherlock shippers. It's fun to write! I'm a little out of ideas, so ideas or prompts are very welcome! :)

Irene had left the flat by using the window. She loved the thrill it always gave her to escape from Sherlock; outwitting him was a pleasure. Of course, he would find her somehow again very soon, no need to worry about that: he always did.

She stepped inside the car and Kate drove off. She looked behind her, but no-one was following her. It was much to her relieve, really.

When they reached the abandoned warehouse she now lived, Kate parked the car just behind the building, out of sight. Both women went inside and climbed the stairs to the second floor; the rooms were made a bit more comfortable. It was not as nice as Irene was used to, but it sufficed for now. Better be alive here than dead in Karachi. She smiled at the thought. Sherlock hadn't been able to let her die and had shown up at the right moment. Never had Irene been happier to hear that moan as back then. She sighed and put the kettle on. "Kate? Would you like some tea?"

"Ah, yes please. What did Sherlock say?" she popped her head around the corner.

Irene frowned. "Good question. He behaved strangely."

"It was the first time you were in his flat since… well you know."

"That is true, but it wasn't that. No, there was something else. He refused to read me."

A giggle was all Kate's reply.

When the tea was ready and both women sat down on the floor sipping from their cups, Kate addressed Irene. "Sweets, I want to go out and see Will. Is that alright?"

Irene nodded.

"Are you sure?" Kate asked to be completely sure.

"Of course. You go out and have fun. It's been over a week, hasn't it?"

Kate stood up and laid her hand on Irene's shoulder, squeezing it a little. "Have fun," Irene added before returning her attention to her cup of tea.

When Kate had left, Irene fished out her mobile and phoned Sherlock. She needed to hear his voice, she needed to talk to him. The little conversation just some minutes back had stirred something awake in her. He had behaved strangely just now but still… he was the man she needed and the man she adored. Really adored. She had been able to live without him for months, now she just needed him. She wasn't entirely surprised when she heard his phone beeping nearby. She got to her feet and said softly: "are you here, Sherlock?"

Out of the shadows emerged a well-known form, but it wasn't Sherlock. Her heart skipped a beat when she considered the possibility of it being Moriarty, but when she had a better view of the man, it turned out to be Sherlock's faithful blogger. John.

"What are you doing with Sherlock's phone?" she asked, trying to hide the fact she was a bit disappointed.

John smiled and stepped closer without saying anything.

Irene stepped back unconsciously and looked at the man. "Erm, sorry for drugging you. Where's Sherlock?"

The man chuckled while keeping his gaze focused on the Dominatrix. Suddenly he said: "you are slightly disappointing me, Irene. Just because I have a different body doesn't mean I'm not me anymore. "

"What are you talking about?" John was freaking her out. Why did he behave so weird. "Have you two been taking drugs?" she asked, laughing nervously.

"Mycroft suggested that too. But no, I haven't."

"Then what is going on, John?"

John walked closer to her and motioned her to sit down. "You are not going to believe this," he said, gently taking her hand. Only Sherlock did that in that way; she realised. a warm feeling flooding all around her.

"So, you're saying that you and John swopped bodies, because of Fortune Cookies?" Her eyes were widened and her mouth agape. "No, really, John, that's insane!'

"I'm Sherlock, dear," he commented with a soft smile. Irene shook her head incredulously. "Then tell me something just the two of us know."

The look in John's eyes changed as he scanned her from head to toe. "After Karachi, we went to a hotel. The duvet on the bed was deep-red. There was sand everywhere. You took a shower. I ordered food for one, champagne for two. The champagne turned out to be cheap, from China."

"You already knew, sweetest," Irene chuckled at the memories.

John smiled too. "When the champagne bottle was empty, you kissed me. A real, deep kiss. A kiss to say thank you. Well, at least I think so, because the second was completely different." His eyes shone devilish.

Irene crept closer towards the detective in the blogger's body. "Ah… It's really you," she sighed, contended at last. She had her detective back, and that was all that mattered for now.

"Sherlock?" she asked murmuring.

"Hmm?"

"Please, never ever wear jumpers when the two of you have swopped back. They itch."

A low chuckle rippled through his body. "That's what I told John too. He didn't want to listen though."

Irene smiled. "Must have been a hell of a day for you two."

"Yes, it was. Hopefully we will swop back soon."

"I think you need to find that Chinese person who gave you the cookies in the first place."

"We saw her, but she ran away. Mycroft's looking for her too."

After a comfortable silence both sank down on the floor. Sherlock lay on his back; Irene rested her head on his stomach. Suddenly, Irene exclaimed: "I kissed and flirted with JOHN! What did he say?"

Sherlock chuckled again. "He was angry with me at first, but then wanted to know how I did it."

She giggled a little, "how you did what?"

He grinned. "How I put up with you."

Irene smiled, but after that, Sherlock sat up straight and looked at her intently. "Why did you come to me in the first place? John told me the signs. Do you have any news?"

Irene sighed and sat up too. "Yes, I do. Seb is in South-America. I don't know where Moriarty is, there are rumors your brother has him but we're not sure."

"What about the money?"

"I'm out of it."

"No men willing to be recreationally punished?" He grinned.

Irene smiled. "No. I was able to find that out. Seb has his hands in some very dirty business; he is being helped by Marston and De Visser."

"Dutch?"

Irene nodded. "A big smuggling thing, drugs or weapons, I don't know."

Sherlock hummed happily and he gently pressed a kiss on Irene's dark hair. "I'll give you some money soon."

Irene lifted her head and looked in those grey-blue eyes. She smiled and pressed soft kiss to Sherlock's lips. "Thank you, mighty detective," she joked.

A little stiffly she stood and ruffled the short blonde's hair. "Off you pop. Go find that Chinese and call me when you're normal again." Sherlock grinned and left the building in the same catlike, noiseless manner he had come.

Don't forget to leave a little review or prompt or any other idea. :)