A/N Another huge gap between updates, because I suck. Only ten more after this, though! This one's from Irene's perspective, for a change of pace. Also, there's a hint of Irene/Molly, because I ship it unhealthily hard.

Thanks to Rain Hamish Holmes, hjohn302, starrysummernights, Hummingbird1759, ThisDayWillPass, and johnsarmylady

Disclaimer I don't own Sherlock or any associated characters, events, etc.

XC. Triangle

There's no denying that Irene Adler has a fondness for Sherlock Holmes. Well, perhaps more than a fondness—to be precise, she's rather captivated by the urge to take one of her polished leather riding crops to his gorgeously smooth, pale skin, loop the silkiest rope she can find around his slender wrists, force him onto her bed and rip his clothes away viciously and shag his senses out—

But, well, she's more refined than that. If 'refined' is, in any way, a term that can be applied to the blue-eyed dominatrix. She wouldn't do something so blatant; after all, she's just as attracted to his mind as she is to his body, and she wants to be able to play her game out fully, experience every bit of his promise, test the boundaries of his spectacular brain…

And maybe, just maybe, there's something else, too. Something else that's holding her back, despite how much she wants Sherlock for herself. It's almost that he feels… off-limits. Such a thing is doubtlessly a bizarre label for her to use; it is her job, in all ways, to break those rules, to easily treat herself to the most absolutely 'off-limits' men and women. Married isn't a problem. Neither is royal, or religiously barred from her ventures, or anything, really.

Still, it's rare that she'll find someone who really seems to have a true partner in place for themselves already. A person that they genuinely care about, whom their affection for won't fade with time or debt. Her clients and interests quite often have husbands or wives, yes, girlfriends or boyfriends or fiancés or crushes…

But what Sherlock has is beyond all that, somehow, even if they don't seem to have a definite romantic connection in place. John Watson, of course, is the one that Irene thinks of—Watson, she can't help but feel, would show no mercy on her, if she were to make a move on Sherlock. Perhaps he wouldn't realize why, but she would.

It's obvious that they're in love. Dazzlingly obvious, to the point where she can't help but delight at the sight of them together—sure, she's jealous, but beyond that, it's impossible not to be glad for them. They seem so utterly happy with each other. The two of them have found something that she surely will never approach.

So she keeps her distance, more or less, stays in the shadows, doesn't approach Sherlock in any way that isn't at least somewhat subtle. Irene has enough decency to respect people who are practically soulmates, and they're rare enough that she actually wants to.

Besides, she does have rather a fancy for that pretty little coroner at St. Bart's morgue…