Hey!
First of all, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed. The response just blew me off my feet! Thank you!
So this is the tiny little twist I had planned. And yeah, I couldn't fit it all into one chapter, so I split everything up. Which means that there is at least one more chapter to come (I told you I am bad at sticking to specific chapter numbers…oh well.)
Enjoy x
.
.
.
Months passed.
For John, everything returned to normal.
Mycroft still checked in occasionally, simply because he wanted to make sure that his little brother was alright. He thought of it as his fault that Sherlock had been (to the extent of Mycroft's knowledge anyway) hurt and manipulated by Irene Adler, and so made sure to put in new surveillance systems every few days after Sherlock ripped the old ones out. This pattern went on for a few weeks, until Sherlock and John finally put their foot down. (In John's case it was the fact that that he discovered that there were cameras placed in his bedroom. As for Sherlock, he was simply tired of constantly being monitored like a child. But he was also scared what would happen if Irene called – If Mycroft noticed that he was talking to a female on the phone, it would most certainly arouse suspicion.)
Mycroft had, after a long and fairly heated discussion, finally decided to take all the cameras away, but still visited. Their relationship grew slightly less tense.
Sherlock and Irene still kept up a constant stream of texts, though no one actually knew about them. Sometimes Irene would call too, over Skype, and then they could see each other. Sherlock was glad that Skype was free; otherwise the phone bill would have been huge.
He was always careful to call when John was gone, which was hard because he and Irene were in totally different time zones. He may not have needed the sleep, but Irene did.
Life went back to normal. Sherlock would almost say that life was a little better now.
.
.
.
Sherlock and John were having breakfast one morning and John was excitedly telling him about Sarah. Apparently the two of them had worked out their differences and had gotten back together.
Sherlock was barely listening.
"…And she suggested we could double date. She has this really nice friend called Ingrid, and she says that Ingrid is very intelligent. I already told her yes, so…"
Sherlock's head snapped up at the mention of double dating.
"So could you please do it for me?" John asked, taking a sip of coffee.
Sherlock closed his eyes. John was kidding, right?
Apparently he wasn't.
"John" he said, with forced patience. "I thought we've been over this. I don't date."
"Yeah, but Sherlock...don't you think it's time to get into that a bit? Or at least learn how to act normal around other human people?"
"No" said Sherlock stiffly, frowning. Was John suggesting that he wasn't human? "I'm not interested in women John. Or men!" he added hastily when John opened his mouth. "I'm sorry John, but this isn't going to work. Sorry."
"Don't you think it's time to get into the field a little Sherlock? Meet someone, possibly fall in love? Or at least be able to have a conversation with them without offending them in the first 30 seconds?"
"And you're suggesting that this will happen with this…Ingrid?" Sherlock scoffed.
"No!" John protested. "I just mean that in order for that to happen, it might help if you meet some girls first. Get some…you know…experience" he said, hoping Sherlock would catch his meaning.
"Experience?" Sherlock asked, almost shocked at the implications. "Are you seriously suggesting that-"
"No!" John said quickly, even though it was a lie. God, it was absolutely impossible to have the sex talk with Sherlock.
"I'm just saying that…Oh never mind" he huffed, when it was clear that Sherlock was looking at him as if he were an idiot. "But seriously Sherlock, have you never thought that it would be nice to have a girlfriend?"
Sherlock merely raised his eyebrows. Before, he would have said something about sentiment and emotion being a huge disadvantage, but after Irene, that argument could never be used again.
"Come on." John practically begged. He knew that relationships were touchy with Sherlock, but Sherlock was what…thirty? And from what John could tell, he had never had a relationship. He briefly wondered whether Sherlock had ever had sex. He highly doubted it.
"It's only going to be a short date." He insisted. "We'll go to a club or something and have dinner and then you can go home."
Sherlock closed his eyes at the mention of dinner. There was only one person he wanted to have dinner with, and it wasn't Sarah's friend.
"No" he said, drawing the word out so that John would grasp the concept. And with that he left the table and retreated to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
"He's quite touchy about those sorts of things." Said a voice from behind John. He turned around, surprised.
"Mrs Hudson!" he greeted, inwardly wondering how much she had heard.
"Well, at least you tried" she said ruefully and sat down next to him. "I don't suppose we can ever wear him down".
John nodded. "But it's not normal!" He burst out. "I know that this is the great Sherlock Holmes, who thinks that caring is a disadvantage, but he's thirty! Hasn't he ever had a relationship before?" he asked, rhetorically.
"I don't know dear" Mrs Hudson answered sadly. "But it's probably best not to try and force him into one."
.
.
.
Sherlock meanwhile was lying on his bed, annoyed. He'd gone through this with John hadn't he?
He lay there for about an hour, listening to John gather up his stuff and leave for work.
A beeping sound distracted him. He'd received a text.
Eagerly, he flipped open his phone.
I'm just reading John's blog. Apparently, he tried to make you date - I suppose that didn't go down well. I'm free for dinner, if you're interested. KB
He smiled. But the smile quickly disappeared when the full meaning of the text sank in. John had typed up their conversation on his blog?
Some people should be more discreet in the information they put on line, he typed. He knew that if she was in the room with him right now, she would be laughing.
How's life? He typed again, when she didn't reply to his first text.
Uneventful but fun. I feel like robbing a bank. You could fly over and investigate it. Afterwards we could go and have dinner.
He chuckled slightly. Are you sure you're getting enough to eat?
No. Let's go and have dinner.
He laughed again. Instead of texting back he called her, and talked to her for an hour.
He missed her.
Sentiment was a strange thing indeed.
.
.
.
John ended up going on his date alone, but decided not to hold it against Sherlock. He noticed that Sherlock was sinking back into his sad phase – he played the violin all day, used up countless nicotine patches and only spoke when someone directly asked him a question.
Luckily, the phase didn't last very long though.
The day after, both Sherlock and John decided go do the grocery shopping. They found that it was easier doing it together, because it spared them countless hours of sitting at the table together, arguing about the shopping list.
Sherlock and John were stocking up on baked beans when Sherlock's phone beeped.
Got hungry, so instead of robbing a bank I thought of something better. KB
Sherlock smiled slightly, and shielded the phone from John's sight.
Surprise me
I'm starving, so I decided to come over and see you. You bed looks quite comfortable. Do you mind if I borrow your pyjamas? I had to travel light.
Sherlock stared at the text.
He couldn't believe it. She was here. In London.
How had she gotten in without him noticing?
He dismissed that though, his mind more focused on her safety. She wasn't safe in London!
"Can you go and get some carrots?" he asked John, aware that the fresh produce was on the other end of the store. "I have to make a call. It's urgent."
John left, although he knew that there was something odd about this situation. Sherlock never made calls, he only texted. He could see that there was something wrong though, and so he went to get carrots.
Sherlock dialled Irene's number as soon as John was out of sight.
"What are you doing?" he hissed as soon as she picked up.
"Good morning to you too" came the reply. "And relax. No one's following me, and no one has any idea that I'm here."
"How can you be sure about that?" Sherlock bit out, his protectiveness and fear for her safety manifesting itself into anger.
"Trust me." She said, and although her tone sounded very sincere, it did nothing to make him relax.
"Look, I have a wig, sunglasses, and even a specially made prosthetic mask which I can use during emergencies. And I got a new passport made by the person you recommended. It's fine, I promise."
Sherlock sighed to himself, there was no stopping her.
"Fine" he said, sighing in resignation. Somehow, she always managed to win. "There are no surveillance cameras in the apartment, I checked. Just stay in my bedroom and lie low if Mrs Hudson comes upstairs. She never goes in my bedroom."
"Thanks for the tip Mr Holmes" Irene said, and he could hear the tiredness in her voice. "I look forward to dinner when you get back".
Sherlock chuckled. "So do I" he said, and heard Irene gasp slightly. It was the first time he had ever admitted that he looked forward to dinner too.
"John's coming home with me though, so be quiet for a while. He has a date tonight. There's no need for him to see you today."
"As you say Mr Holmes. See you soon".
He smiled to himself and hung up, looking up as John rounded the corner with a packet of carrots.
"You okay?" John asked carefully. Sherlock was smiling, but there was tension in his eyes.
Sherlock simply nodded, suddenly feeling quite ecstatic at the prospect of seeing Irene again.
.
.
.
He looked for signs of her the second he entered the flat. A slight crease on the carpet, a used glass in the kitchen, his laptop open on a different website and an open window. He supposed that she had simply come through the door, seeing that they kept it open most of the time and that Mrs Hudson was always tiding up their flat, despite her claims that she was only their landlady.
He did his best to put on a calm and unaffected air so that John wouldn't suspect t anything.
John decided to unpack the groceries and then start blogging about his latest adventure with Sherlock.
Sherlock immediately went to his bedroom and smiled at the sight before him.
Irene lay curled up in his bed, dressed as promised in his pyjamas, her hair covering her face. The sheet was crumpled and his pillow lay on the floor, so Sherlock suspected that she had been rather restless.
"Hello" he murmured softly, going over to the bed and sitting down on it. She felt it dip under his weight, and opened one eye sleepily.
She waved sleepily and closed her eyes. He chuckled slightly.
"You find everything funny" she mumbled. "Didn't strike me as such when we met…"
"And how did I strike you when we met Miss Adler?" he whispered, knowing that she is more or less awake now.
"Sexy" she said, and Sherlock smirked. "And extremely arrogant", She added, finally opening her eyes and smiling at how quickly Sherlock's smirk disappeared. She reached out to touch his cheek. "You were always so easily offended."
"Hmmm" he said, and lay down next to her. They stared up at the ceiling together.
"Suppose John comes in right now" she whispered. "What do we tell him?"
"Good question" Sherlock answered. "I suppose, if this were to happen exactly now, then we would have approximately 15 seconds to think of something. During the whole time he would be standing there gaping like a fish because he thinks you're dead, and because catching me lying in bed with a woman is not something he thought he would ever see."
Irene laughed quietly. "So what would we say?"
"I suppose we should just let our actions speak for ourselves."
She arched an eyebrow. "How? We're not actually doing anything".
"We're lying together on my bed, you're wearing my pyjamas, and we're closer together than is customary for a simple friendly acquaintance. I think that that's enough for John to read into."
"I think there's a lot more we could be doing" Irene said nonchalantly. She grinned teasingly at him. "Hungry?"
He shook his head. "No. Or at least, not until John leaves the apartment."
She nodded understandingly. "Well, we have at least one night to spend with you then. I'm going to back to what I was doing."
"Which would be?"
"Sleeping." She said, stifling a yawn. She shifted on the bed and wrapped one arm around him, pulling herself closer to his chest and closing her eyes. She felt him stiffen slightly, but he relaxed after a second, putting one arm on her back. It was the barest of touches, light and gentle, but possessive.
She smiled against his chest. "At least stay until I am asleep. It's common courtesy."
"And how would you know?" he whispered.
"I don't".
"Ah".
He dis wait until Irene fell asleep, and then untangled himself from her. He would stay, gladly, but he knew that John would become suspicious if he was in his bedroom for a long time.
Sure enough, John is already looking for him, stealing glances every time he reached a spot in his blog and didn't know how to continue.
"There you are" John said. "Are you okay? You barely ever go into your bedroom."
"I'm fine" Sherlock replied with a smile. Screw the unaffected act. He pulled out his violin and started playing a sweet but happy tune.
John noted the change with raised eyebrows, but didn't say anything. If this was just a temporary phase, then he was glad while it lasted.
As promised, John left for his date with Sarah fairly early. By then Irene had gotten up, and was reading one of the books she had found on Sherlock's bookshelf.
"Finally remembered I was here then Mr Holmes?" she asked playfully, no accusation in her tone.
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "How could I possibly forget?" He smiled as he took of his jacket and loosened his shirt. He raised one eyebrow. "Hungry?"
.
.
.
Hope you all liked it! :D
John is going to get one big surprise when he walks in and finds Irene Adler on the sofa.
Seeing that I am slowly reaching an end to this story, do any of you have any requests? I very recently read the whole W.S. Baring - Gould thing about Irene and Sherlock being lovers and even having a child together, a little boy called Nero? Do any of you want me to incorporate that into the story, or do you think it would be too much? (There might be a small dose of eventual daddy fluff, which is a bit OOC)
Please tell me what you think, either in a PM or in a review.
Thank you!
Laura x