Dead and gone

Back in Baker Street the sky was pitch black and dotted with stars that glowed dimly with the London pollution among the dull backdrop of seemingly monotonous surroundings.

The group, accompanied by Mrs. Hudson sat; huddled around the fireplace of the flat whilst Sherlock was pacing the room mumbling to himself. John could hardly believe their little night out had ended in quite a bang, escaping from quite serious immediate danger.

Irene had no idea why she was feeling so shaken, it wasn't as if she hadn't been through dangerous situations before, she took risks for the fun of it; usually with positive consequences. However this was different, it wasn't only her in danger; but someone she cared about. Sherlock.

Love truly was a great disadvantage. Wait what was she thinking? Love?! Of course she was not in love with Sherlock Holmes, she couldn't be; she wouldn't allow herself to be. Flirting and seduction was fine, that was her forte but she couldn't fall in love with a man so cold and asexual. After all he would never love her back. Out of all the men and women who adored her, why couldn't he?

Sherlock sneaked a few looks at Irene, she was holding her mug of tea tightly in her grasp, if she held it any tighter it might reach the extent where she could break it. He had the sudden desire to comfort her. What a sentimental thought, and in front of everyone else as well; he would not let that happen, showing them his weaker side would be a mistake, even if he could trust them the last thing he needed was to appear feeble in a situation like this.

There was no other plan he could devise that didn't involve one extremely necessary move, 'Pack your bags, we're going to Italy.' He said out of the blue his tone not even changing in the slightest as if this was a normal sentence.

The rest of the room seemed to erupt in confusion. 'Why on earth would you be doing that dear?' asked the oblivious Mrs Hudson, Sherlock was always running off somewhere without a moments notice. Adventurous and exciting as it did seem she did worry about him.

'Sherlock. We can't just go to Italy because we have a single clue, we're not even sure if it means anything.' John exclaimed, he had always wanted to go to Italy, but not on a case.

'Not you. Irene, if we destroyed the rest of the web we can destroy Moran. And I need you in London John.' Sherlock exclaimed. Irene was torn, she knew what Sherlock was saying was true; they were a good team and he knew it, the difference was this would be a much more dangerous encounter, she didn't want herself or her detective dead at the hands of Sebastian Moran.

With impeccable timing familiar footsteps began to ascend the flight of stairs. 'Irene Adler, I was never informed of your...survival.' The voice came from just outside the door as a figure emerged from the dark hallway. 'Sentiment has gotten the better of you dear brother.' Mycroft said looking as smug as ever. Sherlock gave him a hard stare in reply, 'I believe you're mistaken Mycroft.' He said sternly.

Irene stood up to stand next to Sherlock, she wasn't afraid of the elder Holmes; mostly because Sherlock didn't seem to show any fear towards him.

Mycroft looked the pair up and down, they did make quite the couple, the detective and the dominatrix even though he did have such a hatred towards the woman he wouldn't want to put her in any more danger than she was already in, his brother did seem to care about her a lot more than he let on.

'And I believe that I am not.' He smirked. 'I've been informed of your little plan and I do not approve of it.' He continued and then increased his volume, 'Moran is dangerous, we don't want you in the same situation as with Moriarty, you almost died.'

'But he didn't.' She said quietly but confidently, Sherlock looked down at her, she was supporting him. Mycroft abruptly changed the subject 'Yes he didn't, and neither did you. How?' he queried; directing the question to both Sherlock and Irene. He did have his suspicions.

They shared a gaze before returning their look to Mycroft. A devious smirk appeared on Sherlock's face as he slipped his arm around Irene's waist for the second time. 'A girl could get used to this.' she thought as he guided her out of the room she followed obediently. Leaving the comment hanging in the air; 'I'll leave you to your deductions.'

The room was left in awe and shock as they exited, the most addled being Mrs. Hudson who had absolutely no idea what was going on, leading her to questioning John frequently in the next few hours.

Sherlock grabbed his coat before they left; he opened the front door still leading Irene outside, though he knew she would follow. 'So what was that all about?' she asked, 'Just my stupid brother, we're going to Italy tonight, I hope you like Tuscany.' he said whilst placing his coat around her shoulders in what seemed to be a romantic and caring manner.

'Tonight, are you sure this is a good idea Sherlock.' she said masking her worried tone. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder to bring Irene close to him in the cold night; she leaned into his warmth contently. 'I'm sure, we need to get rid of Moriarty once and for all.'

'And what will we do after that?' she asked with no idea what he might say. He waited a while before replying, 'I don't know.'

She had no idea where she would go after they defeated Moran, she didn't want a normal life. Ideally she would stay with Sherlock but that could never work, he wouldn't want her with him. It was not as if he would need her after this. In a way she thought that maybe he merely thought of her as a tool, he was a sociopath after all. Ridding that ghastly thought from her mind she sighed as they walked the streets of London; attempting to find a taxi.

Sherlock scanned the streets for any sign of a taxi this time of night. He'd normally despise any couple he saw in the same position as him and Irene; without context anyway. Running off to Italy together, it did sound rather silly but it would be an experience. He assumed that when all this was over he would continue his normal way of life, case after case. But what would happen if John left? John was not like himself, he could picture him with a wife and family; where would he fit in with that life? His thoughts led him into as series of possible scenarios, he wasn't going to dwell on the unknowns of the future, right now was what was important.

He stumbled as Irene stopped all of a sudden in the middle of the pavement, removing herself from his grasp. Her musings from earlier had led to endless chains of speculation and distrust, 'Sherlock, you can't just drag me along to help you fight your battles.' she said staying completely static, not daring to stare into those eyes of his; they stared right through you, not just to deduce; she could almost feel them penetrating right into her soul, breaking her mask of protection to reveal the fragile truth.

Sherlock expressed his confusion of her abrupt fickleness, 'Drag you along, Irene you're the one who begun all of this; I hardly want to run off to some foreign country myself. But if that's what it takes to ensure my... and your safety then that's just what I will do.' A glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes, this was the last thing he needed.

Irene turned around; he back facing him and began to walk back the way they came, she still held her tight grip to his coat wrapping it around her. 'As much as you want this it's not safe Sherlock, we'll be dead in hours if he discovers us. I won't let that happen to you.'

He analysed her choice of words, picking out the sentimental values that showed him the truth she was speaking. He speedily followed her, coming to a sharp halt as he grabbed her arm. 'Don't go.' He said in an almost desperate tone, he was.

At his voice she twisted around. 'You know I'll follow you.' He continued looking down and straight into her eyes. She leaned in feeling the heat he was radiating once again, she knew he needed her.

'I promised you that I would never let them kill either of us.' Sherlock said. She remembered the moment, only two days ago; he was right and she believed him.

'Do you trust me?' He asked her as a final plea. It felt like seconds became hours before she replied, hardly whispering 'Yes.' They shared a rare smile of content together.

'Taxi.' He said loudly, hailing the cab and breaking the moment. Never mind she thought, there should be plenty more of those in Italy. Irene smirked to herself as she sat in the vehicle.