Sherlock story

Deleted Memories, Alternate #1

Warning: adults talking and...

"The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning." ~Ivy Baker Priest

Да? means Yes?

Three weeks after the news conference

Just outside Saint Petersburg, Russia

She was dressed in her designer sleeveless dress. It was form fitting and beige in color. It was also one of her favorites. Her long dark hair was down and in its natural waves. She wore it this way sometimes now. She used to like everything including her hair, perfectly structured and in place, but now sometimes just wished for a bit of the unpredictable.

She was safe, Sherlock had made sure of that fact, but she was bored. The servants were sent home for the day and she was alone now. She sighed as she looked out her oversized windows. Night would soon arrive. She would then be able to see the lights of the distant but beautiful city from her balcony.

Saint Petersburg resonated with life. She could almost feel the past and the present as they kissed each other daily and invited those within her gates to marvel at the odd mixture of the ultra modern and the historically magnificent structures that were her treasures. Irene loved the city but it was where she lived now, it would never truly be her home.

She stumbled from her thoughts abruptly as a phone ring tone echoed in the moderately sized room.

She looked behind her as she rose from the plush beige striped chair. She walked gracefully to the table and with a slight stretch of her right arm picked up the mobile phone. Her eyebrows raised in question. She was pleased yet surprised by the call. She texted him daily but he only responded every two weeks or so and have not done so for near a week. Once, out of curiosity, she did not text him for three days. Day two he causally texted inquired if she was staying out of nonsense, as he liked to call it. She did not respond. On day three, he was at her door. She had no idea how he knew where she was. How he always seemed to know where she was.

"Да?" When speaking on the telephone, they never said hello or goodbye, it was not their way.

"Ms. Adler," She smiled, she could hear him breathing on the phone as if he was moving while he spoke to her.

"I saw you on the telly, blue suit. It was a good choice; the color matched your eyes. John looked handsome in his black suit as well." There was a brief pause. "So, you're a hero… again." She was in a playful mood. "I'm honored to receive a call from the Modest Marvel. That is what the newspapers are calling you isn't it." She knew he did not care for that particular kind of attention. He would deny such emotions but she believed that it embarrassed him.

He sighed deeply. "You know that I cannot abide those sorts of things but Mycroft insisted. He said that it was necessary." She was enjoying the conversation with Sherlock. He usually did not talk about his feelings or his brother. She knew how he felt, of course, but to hear him say the words out of his mouth felt surprisingly intimate.

A brief silence

"How is it there in London, wet?" Irene missed London. Out of all the places in the world, the cold damp country was like heaven to her, but that did not matter, did it. She was here in Saint Petersburg.

Saint Petersburg was now her home.

He did not answer right away. He did that sometimes, she was used to it. Her thoughts occupied her while she waited.

She sighed as she glanced around her residence. She walked over to her fireplace and leaned to the side of it, embracing its warmth as she looked around the elegant room. Crystal vases sparkled from the light of the setting sun as it filtered pass the column of sheer curtains that lined the windows. She kept them filled with tulips year round. She preferred yellow and white tulips, but only yellow was available.

She preferred the rooms to be full of flowers in the colder months; it reminded her of the promise of spring. As a child living with her grandmother, it was her favorite time of year. Spring was a time of new life and new beginnings. It was a time when all mistakes were forgiven and fresh starts were allowed.

"I would not know Ms. Adler."

"You didn't tell me that you were off on some assignment."

"Ayyad is dead; his entire kingdom except for one general who is on the run is destroyed. Are you going after the fourth link that you could not identify?" She became angry for some reason. She scolded herself. She should have known better than to think he would have allowed himself to rest maybe even heal.

He did save countless lives. It was silly of her to think that he would take off an afternoon, maybe even a whole day.

"John and I had some… business to take care of here but it's resolved." He paused.

"No, this is… different..."

Adler heart started to race as worry filled her mind. Sherlock hesitated. Sherlock does not hesitate. He almost seemed unsure of himself. She took a breath and tried to even out her voice so that her apprehension was not apparent.

"How so Mr. Homes?"

Sherlock's voice paused on the line. He did not answer right away. She waited.

"We're alike in many ways, are we not?" There was a slight pause, "Do you ever get tired Ms. Adler?"

Irene was confused and did not understand. She did not like the feeling of helplessness that came with not understanding.

She frowned for a moment as she became frozen with a silent stillness. She took a breath, deciding. She did something unusual and out of character for her, she told the truth. She closed her eyes and spoke.

"Yes," Her voice was soft and broke a little. It happened then. She put her mask down.

There was silence on the phone for a long time. She wondered if Sherlock was still there but heard him breathing and knew he was.

She bit her reddened lips and sighed finally.

"Are you there?" She asked quietly when she could no longer stand it.

"Yes." She heard Sherlock say; only his deep baritone voice was no longer coming from the phone line but was directly behind her.

"Real life seems to have no plots."~Ivy Compton-Burnett

The phone dropped forgotten from her hand. She swallowed hard as she took a deep breath and then turned around.

He was standing by the door, "You really should be more careful Ms. Adler."

She drank in the sight of him. A flutter rippled through her as her pulse quickened. She wanted to say something funny, flirtatious, or witty but all she could do was, stare.

Sherlock locked eyes with her as he slowly advanced. He seemed to be as unsure as she was.

She finally found her voice.

"Why are you here?"

"I think you know."

He stopped a yard away and stood in the shadows of the fireplace light. The orange and red flames danced across his face and dark suit.

"Why are you here, Mr. Holmes?" She asked again with words born of part hope, part fear.

Sherlock smirked and looked down briefly with both hands in his pocket before resuming looking at her.

"Because," he started, "I'm tired too." He tilted his head as his gaze became intense. He studied her.

Irene's heartbeat quickened more as she swallowed again and tried to remember to breathe.

He advanced on her slowly, making his way up to her as they both maintained eye contact. He was impossibly close now. His voice had deepened. There was also now a roughness to its tone. He left the smallest of spaces between their bodies as his eyes bore into her soul. He waited as he allowed her to truly see him. She made a decision and closed the small space. He exhaled a sigh and closed his eyes as she took the last step and molded her body to his, leaning one hand and her head on his chest.

She listened to his heart. It was beating strongly but fast. It was strangely comforting and she closed her eyes and sighed as well. "I hear your heart Mr. Holmes." He looked at Irene saying nothing.

They were emotionally naked before each other. Both put down their masks, the one that they both wore every day when facing the world. They were both creatures of the mind. They both enclosed themselves behind walls constructed from their own strong wills. They were untouchable by near everyone even each other. Now however, the walls were shaking, cracking, and pieces splintered then tumbled to the ground.

His hands that were still in his pockets came out as he slowly, extracted them, and wrapped them gently yet possessively around her waist.

"The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure to pleasure but from hope to hope."~Samuel Johnson

He smiled down at her then looked away briefly as a look of deep contemplation came on his face. He, without realizing it, ran one hand down her back as he spoke, "I'm here because this thing between us, whatever it is, pulls me, burns me. I feel you even when you're half a world away."

She had never known him to willingly reveal so much of himself. Irene looked up at him. She hated the emotions breaking her voice, "What now Mr. Holmes?"

"This is a first for me so don't be shocked if I say this but… I don't know. All I know is that I had to be here. I had to see you. And, I had to do something that I have wanted to do, Ms. Adler for quite some time."

Sherlock gently lifted Irene's chin so that she was looking at him. A thumb brushed circles on her cheek. They locked eyes and kept eye contact as he lowered his lips gently brushing her lips with his. Irene sighed against the feeling of his soft, full, warm lips.

He tenderly kissed her by the fireplace, with the flames dancing on their faces. It was their only light and only witness.

His kisses quickly became more demanding and urgent and he gained access to her mouth and tasted her. Their minds cataloged every sensation and reaction.

His eyes motioned toward her bedroom as she nodded with a smile. He easily picked her up and carried her as he managed to kiss her along the way.

"I do know how to walk, Mr. Holmes." She said with some amusement. "I had no idea that you were a secret romantic."

"It's logical," He tried to convince both her and himself, "You'll need all your energy."

"Romantic," she teased. He raised an irritated eyebrow. "Not to worry Sherlock, I have plenty of energy. I've been saving it all for you."

He stopped walking and looked in her eyes as he held her. He saw the truth of what she said.

She only shrugged. "You've ruined me Sherlock. It seems that my old ways weren't amusing anymore but quite boring." She looked slightly embarrassed but refused to look away. "It would seem that I only have an… appetite for you." Irene was a strong woman and not used to showing weakness. She wondered what Sherlock would do with this important piece of information.

What she saw in his eyes melted the last wall to her heart. Sherlock did not look smug or superior. He made no indication that he had won their little ongoing battle of will and mind. He only looked happy and somewhat pleased.

Sherlock smiled a real unguarded smile. "It would appear Irene that we have ruined each other then. I am married to my work remember, yet here I am. It would appear that John was right."

At her confused look, he explained. "He told me that if I was married to my work, then I was in danger of committing adultery. Although, I did not know it at the time, judging by the inappropriate thoughts coursing through my mind, I think he was correct."

She stared oddly at Sherlock as she processed his words. She suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. Sherlock looked surprised to hear the sound of unrestrained laughter coming out of the mouth of the normally composed woman. He could not help after a brief moment of shock to smile at the sight. He was surprised to realize that he found the sound - enjoyable.

He kissed her again then. She stopped as her laughter became a moan. She put her left hand to caress the side of his face encouraging him along. He started walking again but not before giving her another passionate kiss that caused them both to groan and have to catch their breath. She laughed happily, as she removed her hands from around his neck. She started to unbutton his shirt. When he smiled amused she shrug and said, "Just being efficient Mr. Holmes." His dilated eyes became dark and unreadable.

"That's good, because I finally find myself, very…"

He captured her lips in his mouth and ran his tongue along the edges. By the sound coming from her, he deduced that it had been the right thing to do.

"Very…"

He kissed the sucked her neck. First one side then the other as she moaned her approval.

"Hungry…"

He kissed her as he simultaneously reached behind to unzip her dress as much as he could without dropping her so that he could gain more access to her skin. Sherlock lowered his kisses to her lower neck and collarbone as he crossed into the bedroom.

The increasing sounds of moaning was his undoing. He heard himself moaning in response. His body was on fire and his clothing becoming beautifully uncomfortable. Sherlock's brain did something it never did then; it sat down as his heart stood up and took over.

His body was shaking slightly from barely contained passion as he lowered her to the beautiful oak post bed. Their eyes alight with passion never left each other, as the sounds of their rapid and irregular breathing filled the room. He walked back to the edge of the room to shut both the door and the world out.

He resumed kissing her then. That kiss would be the first of many increasingly passionate kisses, in what would be a night to heal, a night to rest, a night to forget, and most importantly a night they both would always remember.

The end

A/N: I hope that you enjoyed, comment please. Tell me your thoughts. This is the first of three. The next alternate up in 24 hours or less.