Hello!
I am soooo sorry for the long wait. Some of my best friends were visiting from Australia for a few days, and I spent all my time with them.
Here is an extra-long chapter for you all.
The next chapter will be the last (and it might be quite short), but I am already planning a sequel!
Stay tuned!
Irene stayed at the flat for a few more days, cunningly always managing to avoid Mrs Hudson, and hiding in Sherlock's room.
John came and went, and was no longer surprised to see her sitting in Sherlock's chair in the morning.
He studied both of them. He could already see the effect Irene's presence was having on Sherlock, and was amazed that he had missed it before. (Once again, another obvious thing he should have noticed…he now understood why Sherlock called him slow.) Sherlock was gentler, his comments not so insulting, and not as rash. The expression in his eyes was kinder than it had been before, and not as cold and inhuman.
Irene had helped prove something that John had been attempting to do for ages.
She had proved that Sherlock Holmes had a heart.
A real, proper, human heart.
Irene had changed too, John noticed. The flirtatious side to her remained, but that was just part of who she was. Her flirting had become a lot less forceful, her nature sweeter, more innocent and almost childlike.
Well, as close to childlike as you could get by Irene Adler anyway.
He could tell she was starting to get slightly bored in the apartment though, and wanted to go out, but Sherlock refused, the reason being her safety.
John tried to give them as much privacy as possible; staying at Sarah's longer than was expected. He knew that they saw through his subtle attempts, but they were both glad at John's consideration.
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Irene was sitting on the sofa one morning, and she and Sherlock were concentrating on a game of chess. Currently Irene was winning, having almost gotten Sherlock's black king. Sherlock wasn't saying anything, but staring at the chessboard, a small frown on his features.
He wasn't used to losing.
Irene was quietly laughing to herself. "It's hard learning to lose, I suppose" she said, smiling at Sherlock's irritated expression.
Sherlock simply made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, knowing that Irene was enjoying this far too much. He desperately concentrated on the game, trying to figure out how to get her king instead, and listening to Irene's tinkling laughter.
He was worried when it cut off suddenly.
He immediately looked up to try and determine the cause of her silence, and saw her worried face.
"Listen!" she said urgently, nodding towards the direction of the staircase.
Sherlock listened for a moment, and a flash of something akin to fear appeared in his eyes.
"That's not John" he said slowly, frowning, and realising why panic was suddenly sweeping across Irene's face.
Heavy footsteps, but not a soldiers.
A man's though, so not Mrs Hudson's.
Office shoes. New, they were squeaking.
And quickly coming up, in a way which spoke of familiarity but showed urgency and need. The person wasn't using the banister like John usually did.
This was not a stranger, he recognized these footsteps.
"Lestrade."
His brain had it all figured out in a second. Lestrade was a police officer, and had access to most files. No doubt there were (or at least had been) countless pictures of Irene in the Scotland Yard database, probably under the wanted section. Lestrade saw but did not observe, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't recognise Irene.
So, in this case, he was dangerous.
Sherlock's voice was tight as he uttered the single word.
"Bedroom".
Irene didn't need telling twice, and ran into Sherlock's room, locking the door behind her. She knew that he would somehow tell her to come out when all was safe, either by text or by a specific song he had composed on the violin.
Sherlock immediately took out his violin and positioned himself by the window, playing a few lone notes, just as Lestrade pushed open the door. He never bothered to knock anymore.
"Morning" he said hurriedly, looking around the flat, which was cleaner than usual, in surprise.
Sherlock nodded at him.
"What happened? I assume this isn't a purely social visit?"
Lestrade nodded, coming straight to the point. "No. There is a body I would like your help with. It a small case, but it seemed suspicious to us."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. He hadn't heard of any big crimes. "A body?" he asked again, wanting more details, and played a single note on his violin, signalling Irene that it wasn't safe to come out yet.
"Just a death, allergies apparently. But the post mortem confirmed that there was poison administered. We already have a woman in custody, but I would appreciate your view on things."
Sherlock nodded, knowing that if he said he was busy it would arouse suspicion.
"I'll be behind you, I'll take a cab. Bart's morgue right?"
Lestrade nodded, and noticed the chess game. "Who have you been playing against?" he asked in surprise, wondering who was stupid enough to actually try playing chess against Sherlock Holmes.
"Oh, John has been expressing an interest" Sherlock answered hurriedly, ignoring Lestrade's raised eyebrows. "I'll see you there" he added hurriedly, and almost shut the door in Lestrade's face.
He waited until the police car departed and counted to ten. Then he ran over to his bedroom and knocked on the door.
Irene unlocked it and stepped out, looking entirely unaffected.
"Can I come too?" she asked immediately. Sherlock stared at her, raising one eyebrow.
"No" he said, as if it was obvious. "We agreed, London is not safe for you, you're staying here".
"I'm not a child Sherlock" she said, letting her impatience colour her tone. She was starting to get bored in the flat.
"No, sorry, I forgot." Sherlock said, with a healthy dose of sarcasm. "You're a wanted criminal who is supposed to be dead. That changes the issue completely."
Irene remained unimpressed. "No one will recognise me if I put the full get up on. And I have papers remember. The ones you made for me."
Sherlock frowned, impatience showing. He knew she would win again, it was inevitable, but he was determined to keep fighting, at least until his loss became obvious.
"London isn't safe" he said again, but could see that that argument was now becoming fairly useless. It wouldn't stop her.
"No one will recognise me!" she countered, sounding like a stubborn child. She decided to try a different tactic. "Are you afraid to be seen with a lady Mr Holmes?"
Sherlock groaned slightly. Now she had offered him a challenge, knowing full well that he couldn't refuse it.
"I am only going to the morgue" he tried again, albeit fruitlessly. "Most people don't like morgues".
"I'm not most people." she countered, smiling.
He groaned, admitting defeat. Irene smiled and went to his room to change while he put on his trademark coat and scarf.
He barely recognized her when she came back out, and she laughed at his shocked expression. She had on a wig, which already completely changed her facial features. It wasn't her usual dark brown colour, but a light ginger colour and it flowed down her back, stopping just above her waist. The hair was layered, especially around the face.
But she was also wearing a prosthetic mask, which changed her facial features completely. She still looked beautiful, but younger and more innocent, a bit like Molly. He was now confident that no one would recognise her.
To top it off, she wore dark glasses, which perfectly suited her face, and simple jeans paired with a short sleeved t-shirt and black jumper. She also wore no high heels, making her appear shorter all of a sudden.
She had restricted her make up to a minimum.
No one would recognise her as the woman, or as a dominatrix.
He sighed in relief, and offered her a coat he had brought especially for her, a modest, dark grey trench coat.
"See" she said, when he didn't say anything. "No one will recognise me. I am perfectly safe".
He sighed and nodded, seeing that there was no use denying the fact anymore.
"Just to make clear, which alias are you going by today?" he enquired, seeing she had had a second passport made.
"Catherine Jones Baker" she said simply. "Not quite the simple Kate Baker you got for me, but it will do. You can always call me Kathy for short".
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Sherlock strode through the morgue with his usual confidence, knowing exactly where to go. Irene stayed a step behind him, a slightly doubtful expression on her face, looking at Sherlock with a perfect mix of frustration and admiration.
The two of them had agreed that Irene wouldn't pose as Sherlock's lover (it had taken them a long time to decide on that word and then actually say it), but simply as a colleague he had met through John, who wanted to accompany him in his place.
Sherlock decided that he should seem fairly detached and possibly even cold to Irene. Irene had agreed but had begged Sherlock not to make her act stupid and oblivious, and, although Sherlock smirked at the idea at first, he had grudgingly agreed.
The second Sherlock pushed open the door he was greeted by Lestrade.
"Thank you for coming Sherlock-" he broke abruptly, when he saw Irene enter behind him.
Sherlock saw Anderson's, Sally's and Molly's eyes widen. He supposed that the fact that he had entered with a woman (and a very attractive one at that) would shock a tonne of people.
"Who is this?" Lestrade asked immediately, shocked that Sherlock would bring someone into a private police investigation again.
"This is my assistant" Sherlock said simply, his usual disinterest on his face.
"Where's John?" Lestrade enquired, staring at Irene as if she were some sort of intruder.
"He's busy" Sherlock said shortly, making it clear that this was the end of the conversation. The rest of them didn't see it that way though.
"I'm Catherine" Irene supplied, glaring at Sherlock for not introducing her. "I am a friend of John's, and I am studying medicine, so I wanted to tag along with Sherlock for some experience."
Sally raised her eyebrows. This was a private police investigation. She looked at Sherlock, wanting to see how he was reacting to all this. He was looking at Catherine with a bored expression, but with mild distaste. As if he didn't want her here.
'Well, he's always sucked with the ladies' she thought to herself, smirking. 'I bet he will repel her in two minutes flat'.
"I am afraid that this is a private investigation" Lestrade began, as politely as possible.
Sherlock sighed. "She's with me" he said. "John isn't here, so she will be acting as my assistant. She is completely aware that all information here is completely confidential."
"She has a name" Irene muttered under her breath. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
Lestrade thought for a moment and then sighed. He did need Sherlock's help, and besides, John had turned out to be alright. "Fine" he muttered.
"Molly, could you please show me the bodies?" Sherlock asked, because Molly was staring at Irene appraising her. Molly started at his voice and showed him the dead man.
Sherlock stared at the body intently for a few minutes, walking round and checking things with his small magnifying glass. Irene did the same, checking the body like Sherlock, but in different places. Anderson eyed them sceptically. He hated Sherlock, completely and utterly, and wasn't happy that he had been brought into this, but he had to admit that his "assistant" as he called her was hot. He knew that she probably wouldn't want to hang around Sherlock (Sherlock repelled woman instantly, why should this one be any different?) And he was up for grabs. He winked at her when she looked his way and she smiled back slightly, looking rather amused.
Sherlock noticed the interchange and tensed slightly. Obviously he should have foreseen that Anderson would make a move on Irene, he had just split up with his wife. If Anderson made one move on her…he didn't finish the thought, but immediately took a step closer to Irene, and saw he smile. She was probably loving this.
Sherlock straightened up as soon as he was certain that he had the verdict.
"Did the man have any personal possessions on him? He asked.
Molly nodded. "We removed his wallet from his pockets. It had a picture of girlfriend in it, or at least, that's what the police assumed."
Lestrade nodded. "He was married you see" he added, but he must have been cheating on his wife or something like that, because this was neither a friend nor a family relation. We think that she may have murdered him".
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Of course it wasn't her!" he said. "Isn't it obvious?"
Anderson and Sally wore identical looks of annoyance on their features, why Lestrade looked slightly impatient. Irene however, was smiling.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "Did you figure it out?" he asked her.
She smirked. "Child's play, Mr Holmes."
"You figured it out?" Sally almost cried. How was that possible?
Catherine looked at Sally with slight distaste, similar to the way Sherlock always looked at her.
"It's quite obvious if you know where to look" she said simply.
Lestrade sighed. So this is why he had brought her along. He smiled slightly. It was going to be interesting to see how Sherlock would react to someone as smart as him.
Sherlock, instead of looking annoyed, smiled quickly at Catherine.
He was proud that she had figured it out. Even if it meant that he had to share his brilliance.
"Do you want to take us through it?" Lestrade asked.
"Easy", he said. "This man was married, but I wouldn't say he had a happy marriage. His wedding ring has been removed, so I can't tell how long the marriage has been going on, but there is a faint tan line around the finger. The skin wouldn't deteriorate that quickly, which meant that he didn't wear the ring constantly, but took it off."
"His skin is tanned" Irene added, and turned towards Lestrade. "What kind of job did this man have? And is he an Englishman?"
"Yes, he's lived in London his whole life. He was a banker" he replied, wondering where this was going.
"His skin is tanned, this man has been out in the sun" Irene said simply. "For longer amounts of time I imagine, and you don't get that sort of sun in London."
Sherlock nodded approvingly. "That means he went on holiday, to somewhere sunny, like Africa" he said. The line on his finger is quite tanned, which meant he had it removed most of the time. If he removed it, then it meant that the wife didn't go with him. Conclusion-he was seeing someone, probably the black girl you found a picture of. The wife found out, and got jealous. Most women tend to be jealous and very hurt when their husband cheats on them" he said, and kept a gaze on Anderson.
"How much poison was there in his system?" Irene asked Molly, who was watching the pair carefully.
"Umm, only small amounts. Enough to kill him, but it took a while for the autopsy to pick it up."
Irene nodded. "I suppose she gave him something he was allergic to, and slipped small amounts of poison into it, making sure that it would seem like a normal allergic reaction."
"The poison was just extra insurance" Sherlock added. "It was supposed to kill him if the allergy didn't".
He looked at Irene. "Nice work" he said, his façade slipping. He couldn't help the slight warmth that crept into his voice when he spoke to her, even though he was supposed to sound cold and unaffected.
She smirked at him. "Not too bad yourself, Mr Holmes."
He raised an eyebrow at her. Now she chose to flirt?
The others were observing the banter incredulously. Sherlock seemed to feel…affection for this woman? Since when was Sherlock interested in women?
Lestrade was the first to break the silence. He cleared his throat. "Thanks Sherlock. And umm…Catherine" he said, wondering if he should address her by her last name. He wondered what it was.
Sherlock nodded. "Good day" he said, and left the room. Lestrade and Molly followed, Molly looking slightly shocked. Sally turned to go, and saw that Anderson had stayed behind.
He smiled warmly at Irene. "I am Anderson" he greeted, sticking out his hand. Irene took it without hesitation and squeezed it. She saw Sherlock watching her from the other room, and winked at him.
"That was really good" he added, when she didn't say anything in reply.
She smiled. "Thank you. I'm quite new at this, but I have a great teacher."
Anderson frowned slightly. "Ahh, you mean Sherlock…well, I suppose he can make strange first impressions."
Irene arched her brow.
"He does tend to repel most women you see" Anderson filled in, once again annoyed by her silence. "Some say the man has never even had sex!"
He realised when he said that that comment was probably far too much, but Irene laughed. A lovely tinkling laugh.
"Anyways, I'm here if you're interested" Anderson added, smiling.
But Catherine simply smirked at him.
"Thank you for the offer" she said, and glanced at Sherlock, whose face currently resembled a thunderstorm. She smirked. So much for him always being able to keep his emotions in check.
"But, I'm taken" she said simply, seeing Anderson's look of disappointment. "And I am not looking for anything to pass the time" she added, making sure he got her full meaning.
She smiled, and leaned in to whisper in Anderson's ear.
"And there is one thing you got wrong." She said, and paused for effect.
"I'm fairly sure that Sherlock Holmes has had sex before."
With that she winked at Anderson.
"Pleasure to meet you" she said, and left the room, leaving Anderson and sally staring after her, completely and utterly bewildered at the implications of her statement.
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Hope you enjoyed, and please review!