Yes they kissed. :DD
I am as happy about it as you are ;)
Enjoy xx
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It was soft, and gentle and sweet.
It had been a long time since Irene had kissed someone like that - if she even ever kissed at all. Her profession was always strictly sex-the physical type, no emotions attached. She always used whips, riding cops and the like and she'd forgotten how beautiful such a simple, gentle touch of lips against lips could be.
The kiss didn't last as long as Irene would have liked. Sherlock pulled back after a few seconds, his expression serious, but with a new gentleness in his eyes. His fingers gently traced down her arm as he drew back, his eyes never leaving hers.
She smiled slightly, and reached out a hand to trace his cheek. "I always said I cut myself on those cheekbones" she murmured. She grinned cheekily, replaying their first ever conversation from so many months ago. "Would you like me to try?"
He covered her hand gently with his own, his eyes twinkling. "Not just now" he said, smiling. "But I will keep that offer in my mind.
"Now" he cleared his throat and stood up, breaking the trance between him and Irene. "Would you like something to eat?"
Irene mock gasped. "You're finally going to have dinner with me?" she asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"I was actually going to bring you some food. You didn't get very much in the terrorist prison."
She nodded, but his statement awakened her interest. How long had he been there, watching her, without her noticing?
"How do you know I wasn't getting food?" she asked.
He shrugged. It wasn't a difficult deduction to make. You're a lot skinnier than you were a few weeks ago. And seeing that I was made to hand out the food to most of the criminals there…"
"You see me as a criminal then?"
He shrugged, smiling at her flirtatious tone. With other females (or even males) it annoyed him to no end, but he liked it with her. Flirting was such a part of her that he would feel strange if she used a different tone with him.
"I certainly wouldn't pick 'innocence' as a way to describe you." He said simply.
"And how would you describe me Mr Holmes?" Irene asked, looking up at him. She was flirting, but her face betrayed genuine interest.
He paused for a while. How could he describe Irene Adler?
"Hungry" he said at last, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll get you some food" he added and left the room before Irene came up with another innuendo as a reply to his answer.
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He came back from the from the ships kitchen after 20 minutes. Irene had used that time to have a short shower and brush her hair. She wanted all clothes and traces from that horrible prison gone.
She wondered what her life would be like now. She was genuinely touched by Sherlock's behaviour and all he had done for her. She had never really thought about true kindness before.
Obviously before, she got everything she wanted, simply because she dominated. She gave and she took. She smiled at what she had once said to Sherlock.
'You believe in higher power. In this case, yourself.'
She nearly laughed out loud. Sure, the sentence was true, especially with Sherlock, but all the more so with her. She was the higher power, the one who played people like strings, manipulated them to get what she wanted. She had never needed to rely on kindness before, because she had means with which she could get anything she wanted. And because of that, the thought of anyone ever showing her kindness had never really crossed her mind.
With Sherlock, everything was new.
New Zealand wasn't so bad, she thought. She didn't have enemies in New Zealand, at least not direct ones, so she should be fairly safe there. And life wouldn't be too problematic, seeing she had all the necessary documents.
It was a fresh start, a new life. Just what she needed.
She wrapped a towel around herself, briefly wondering whether she should put clothes on or not.
Sherlock had described her perfectly, she was hungry.
Hungry in the literal sense of the word, but also hungry for him.
But she dismissed the idea of going naked. She felt that appearing naked in front of him would be going right back to the starting point in their relationship, and they had come so far since then. And…it was strange, because she wanted to have dinner with Sherlock, obviously. She had never met a man who actually rejected her advances like this, over such a long period of time, which made her much more persistent to get what she wanted. But, strangely, sex wasn't that high on her priority list right now. Before it had been flirting, with the smallest hope that Sherlock would flirt back and say yes. But now it was more than flirting; now there was emotion and sentiment added to the mix, and that changed the situation.
Completely.
Emotion and sentiment wasn't something she was very familiar with. Especially during sex.
Maybe it was better to let the 'dinner' part rest for a few days. It was clear that she and Sherlock now had some sort of relationship, though she couldn't quite define it.
That was new too.
In her book, a relationship was either simply physical, or platonic, or it had genuine depth and romantic feeling attached.
She was familiar with the first one, and possibly a little with the second one. But the third one had always been no go territory for her.
Until now.
She sighed to herself and put her pyjamas on. She was venturing into unknown territory and that scared her. The only assurance she had was that this whole situation was also new for Sherlock.
Sex could wait.
Right now, she wanted actual food.
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The stayed on the ferry for a few days, until they were well away from the Middle East. After the ferry, they travelled by plane to New Zealand.
Irene took a fancy to Queenstown straight away. It was a major tourist city in New Zealand, and therefore crowded and chaotic. She liked that type of lifestyle. But her apartment was outside of Queenstown, where it was a little more peaceful and quiet.
The landscape too, was beautiful. She could see herself adjusting very well here.
The only problem was that London was so far away. She was sure that she would see Sherlock again, but she knew that visits wouldn't be all too frequent.
Luckily there was still texting.
He gave her a phone as a present. She had to smile at the irony of it.
It was a lot less advanced than her last phone, but a similar model. She noticed, with amusement, that his number was already in her contacts.
"Thank you" she said, and received one his truly heartfelt smiles in return.
"Unfortunately, I'll have to get rid of the ringtone you added for me" he said, sounding almost disappointed. "Shame. I quite liked it."
"I can always try to find a new one" Irene said, arching one eyebrow. A laugh rumbled deep in Sherlock's chest.
"Your safety is the priority here" he said, and dismissed the conversation.
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He made sure that she was well settled in. He stayed with her at her apartment and helped her look for a job. She soon found one, working as an assistant in beauty boutique. She didn't get as much money for it as she had for her other job, but she wasn't complaining.
She was surprised when she went the bank to make sure her account was working and found a large sum of money already on it.
She looked at Sherlock questioningly.
"My parents had a lot of money" he said by way of explanation, when he could no longer escape her sharp gaze. "And seeing that I'm not on the run from thousands of people and have a flatmate who has a stable job…" he trailed of, his eyes twinkling.
He stayed with her for a week.
Irene fleetingly wondered whether she could imagine living the rest of her life like this. It seemed so natural with Sherlock somehow, making breakfast with him, listening as he talked about a case he couldn't quite crack. Telling him about all the places she'd been and all the things that she had done while she was on the run. Sometimes they would play games like scrabble or chess, where they were both even. It was fun for them, to play against someone with the same intellect.
There was never any unnecessary sappy romance between them. Both of them were careful to stay away from the 'I love you'. They knew they had a relationship, but 'I love you' simply didn't fit'. It was a relationship with witty remarks and intense gazes but both of them were still trying to figure out exactly where they stood.
She always wondered where he would sleep (a part of her always hoped that he would one day choose her bed), but he always insisted that sleeping was boring and that it slowed him down.
She asked him about dinner every day, but she always let him decide whether she was being serious or merely flirting. His reply was always enigmatic, but at least he never said that he wasn't hungry anymore.
He never said it, but at the end of the week Irene could immediately tell that this was their last night together for some time. She realised from the way he looked at her. His glances lasted just a second longer, as if he was trying to remember her perfectly in his mind. He laughed more, and touched her more, sometimes reaching out to hold her hand for no apparent reason. But he was a lot more restless and fidgety than usual.
She was getting ready for bed and he was sitting in a large armchair in her room, reading something on his laptop. Whatever it was interested him, because he didn't lift his eyes as she emerged from the bathroom.
She sat down on her bed and watched him carefully. He wasn't wearing his customary suit shirt today; instead he had a simple black short sleeved T-shirt on. She could see his muscles under it. His hair wasn't brushed and lay untamed, covering his eyes slightly. He sat with his knees close to his chest, hands folded together and resting on his chin.
"Have dinner with me Mr Homes" she suggested playfully, waiting for one of his usual annoying remarks, which didn't reveal anything.
Instead he raised his head and met her gaze with his even, steady one.
"Didn't you just have dinner?" he asked simply, raising his eyebrows.
"That doesn't stop me from still being hungry" she said, careful not to let disappointment colour her tone. This was their last night together.
"No" he said calmly. "I imagine it wouldn't." He seemed to sense her disappointment and smirked slightly to himself.
"You never asked whether or not I was hungry" he said after a while, as if the thought had just occurred to him. Irene's head snapped up from the book she was currently reading.
"Are you?" she said, holding her breath.
He looked at her for a second. "No."
Irene played along. If she couldn't have dinner, than she could at least flirt a bit. She walked over to him and knelt down until their faces were level. "Good" she said simply.
He looked at her and leaned closer until his lips were at her ear.
"I'm starving" he whispered to her, and watched the Goosebumps appear on her skin. He heard her sharp intake of breath.
"Have dinner with me?" she whispered again, slightly breathlessly, her dark eyes searching his.
He smiled slightly. "Only if you're paying." He murmured. Anything else he might have wanted to say was cut off when Irene kissed him.
Finally, the both though. About time.
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I hope you liked it. I knew that maybe already having dinner was a bit too fast or them, and maybe a bit to OOC, but I just couldn't help myself. Sorry if I disappointed any of you :P
I am still planning to write at least one chapter, so stay tuned!
Please review!
xxx