Chapter 4
Irene Adler stood in the doorway of Sherlock's bedroom, fully dressed and smiling. She was dressed alarmingly casual in a big grey knitted jumper and jeans, her hair still down, her bare, milk white feet almost caressing his carpet.
Sherlock was extremely annoyed at this but his scowl lightened a bit when he stared at her and was pleasantly surprised to not see a version of himself staring back, well, not on the outside at least.
"How the-? Oh never mind" John looked from one to the other. There eyes fixed on each others. Was Sherlock smiling?
Sherlock was smiling. Only slightly. But he quickly replaced this look with one of annoyance as he turned to text Lestrade. When he turned back she was gone again.
3 months past before he even heard from her again. He had been waiting for a text. Expecting. Longing even for the "frightfully inappropriate" as Mrs Hudson put it, sensual moan of his phone. This wasn't a thought he wished to dwell on but Irene had other thoughts.
Are you as bored as I am?-IA
He couldn't help but smile as he read it. She often knew exactly what he was thinking or doing. This was worrying. Although it was customary for him to ignore her, Sherlock found he was desperate for something interesting to happen and he texted back the following day.
I would kill for a murder case-SH
You do make me laugh Mr Holmes. Perhaps we should do something then-IA
Such as?-SH
How about a game?-IA