The lengths

Even though Irene was not at all happy with Sherlock at the moment; she decided to aid him with some research of the current criminal activity of the area. After all there was no point holding a grudge against him when lives (possibly theirs.) may be at stake. Squabbling was just illogical especially when it threatened to distract them from their actual aim.

She went back to their room in order to acquire her bag and jacket, expecting Sherlock to make another failing apology but was a bit surprised when he wasn't even in the room. 'Sherlock?' she called sounding a bit worried, she decided she should't though, he's probably just out researching like her.

Grabbing her bag and slipping on her burgundy leather jacket matching her dress and shoes. She went to the piazza, she would do what she could without attracting too much attention, reading the newspaper, talking to locals, maybe even a visit to the police station if it didn't prove too risky. They didn't want to be caught before the game had not even begun.

The piazza was fairly busy, the majority of the people were elderly; which meant that they would not be rushing around and would be more happy to help her. She smiled as she approached a woman who was sitting alone on a bench, 'Buongiorno.'

It was a couple of hours later and Irene's little technique had worked, the locals had informed her that it was the same as always, gun crime and gangs in the late hours. She took a quick visit to the station where she used some slight manipulation, telling them that she had seen someone wielding a gun, they told her that they probably had a licence which was totally legal, she still asked for assurance which led to the prospect of Mafia involvement, just what they were looking for.

Now she was walking back to the hotel scanning through the newspaper she had just purchased. Not much of interest, she put it back into her bag, it could wait till later.

She wasn't sure if she wanted Sherlock back in the hotel or not. If he was there it meant a confrontation which she dreaded, especially if he remained as clueless of his mistakes as he was previously. But if he wasn't there then that would only prolong the encounter. She was still hurt.

Opening the door, she was pleasantly surprised at the sight which greeted her. She dropped her bag on the bed before making her way towards the small table next to the window. On the table there was a large bunch of red roses with a little note attached to them. A wide smile spread across her face as she detached the note from the flowers to read it.

On the front it simply said 'I'm sorry.' Irene could hardly believe that he had gone to this level of effort to make her forgive him, but he wasn't going to win her back with just a bunch of roses. She opened the card hoping that there would be more writing inside, there was.

It read 'Lets have dinner, meet me at ristorante della spiaggia.-SH' In a way she was disappointed that he meant real food, not her version of dinner, but nevertheless she was overjoyed with his invitation.

She inhaled the scent of the roses he had given her; preserving this very rare moment of content, she doubted that he could even be this sweet and thoughtful but it appeared that she was wrong. She looked up the name of the restaurant on her phone, it was in Viareggio, a town on the coast. She called a taxi, got dressed up and waited in the hotel lobby excitedly.

In the restaurant Sherlock sat at a table for two watching the sun as it started it's descent from the sky. He convinced himself that she would defiantly come, she wouldn't be able to resist this gesture, or would she. He was becoming slightly impatient now, he hadn't specified a time of course, he just assumed that she would come straight away.

He looked out into the distance where the blue of the sky was beginning to turn dark. He saw a figure entering the beachside restaurant, being guided to his table by a waiter. She turned heads whilst she walked, she was wearing a long white dress that flowed around her as she moved, the colour causing her to stand out from the rest of the darkened room. Her hair flowed freely around her shoulders, it was styled into large curls. Sherlock thought she looked beautiful.

'Hello Sherlock.' she said in her seductive tone ignoring the young waiter pouring their wine into her glass. 'Irene.' he said in a relieved voice. He hoped that she had forgiven him, after all he had gone to a lot of trouble to apologise, he wouldn't want it to go all to waste. 'For a minute then I wasn't expecting you to arrive.'

Irene smirked, 'I don't hold grudges Mr. Holmes. It won't do us any good.' She took a sip of her drink. 'But I'm intrigued, why?' she continued, watching his unusually soft eyes turn to a state of confusion. 'Why what?' he said slowly and carefully; assessing anything he could about her. But as always he saw only the obvious, her alluring elegance and lack of flaws. Her perfection distracting him from deducing everything about her.

Or maybe it wasn't Irene who prevented him from doing that, maybe it was himself. He loved a mystery and not knowing every detail about her made Irene just that.

'Why are you apologising, and why in this way?' she brought his mind back to reality giving him the challenge of answering her question. 'Because what I said was wrong, and I felt guilty about it, this was a fitting solution.' he almost seemed like he was forcing the words out, hardly believing he was capable of saying them.

She raised an eyebrow as they were served their identical meals, he had already chosen for her. She replied before eating her colourful pasta dish 'I didn't think you a romantic kind.' she smiled watching him become uncomfortable under her gaze. Not wanting to displease her once again he didn't make any witty comments that might cause upset.

'Neither did I.' he said stiffly, though his words were true, he had never done this for anyone. She laughed quietly, 'So we're finally having dinner, Mr. Holmes?' she smiled widely. 'Yes it appears so. Not quite the type you had in mind I presume?'

'No matter. We'll just save that for later.' she let the words slip off her tongue in a purr, delighted with his alarmed expression.

Their meal went on pleasantly, Irene informed Sherlock of the small amount of information she had acquired, but in fact that little information helped quite a bit, admittedly Sherlock himself should have been more so focussing on Moran but he had been distracted by all this. Never mind, it had only gained him his partner back.

After eating an appetising dessert Sherlock led Irene out of the restaurant, he could barely keep his eyes off of her, she was stunning in every sense of the word. He noticed how the light sea breeze coming from the ocean tousled strands of her dark hair in all directions, contrasting with the pure white of her dress.

'Shall we walk?' he asked unexpectedly; offering his arm rather immediately. She grinned, curious about his peculiar behaviour, taking his arm darlingly as they began their descent down the few stone steps that led to the beach.

She took her shoes off, sinking her bare feet into the sand, relishing the soft feeling of it. It was a lovely beach, it seemed to stretch for miles, the sand was completely clean; like fresh snow on a winter's morning and the scene was completed with the backdrop of distant mountains hidden by a thin mist. It was certainly a sight to remember, especially aided with the last circular warm glow of the sun, surrounded by a darkening blue background of the soon to be night sky.

Sherlock also removed his footwear, rolling up his trousers at the ankles to avoid ruining them with the sand or seawater. He relinked their arms as he approached her, but they both slipped until their hands were held together. Irene broke the unusually comfortable silence of the calm waves crashing down to the shore.

'I'll miss this.' she said dreamily, 'Italy? Yes I've taken quite a liking to it myself.' Sherlock said glancing between Irene's eyes shining in the dimming light and their hands tightly linked together. They strolled along the very edge of the coast, their feet meeting water with every few steps. The entire beach was empty apart from them and a collection of seabirds in the far distance.

'Not just Italy, the game.' Irene continued, he looked at her interested. 'Sherlock, do you know where I was in between the ceasing of your hiatus and when I came to see you?' he had been keeping tabs on her, for her own safety; he didn't want her getting into trouble again. 'Australia.'

'Yes, and do you know what kind of life I led?' her voice now becoming sadder with every sentence. 'Suburban I suspect, nothing out of the ordinary. A life away from whom you really are.'

'Yes.' she frowned; leaning her head on Sherlock's shoulder. 'You know, it doesn't have to be like this.' he eventually said, looking around at the seemingly deserted town where shops were mostly closed and passers by became rare. He then looked behind them at the trail of twin footprints which they left behind.

'What do you mean?' she asked. 'Well, you're a dead woman walking, you've got the world to explore if you wish it to be so. When you're safe that is.' she chuckled lowly. 'That sounds awfully lonely Sherlock. Gosh, sometimes I wish you were dead again.' she laughed when he raised an eyebrow, 'Not actually dead, just like all that time ago.'

'It was only a few months.' Sherlock exclaimed. She turned to a more serious tone, stopping both of them in their tracks, taking both of his hands with her small delicate ones. 'But it felt like forever, I missed you. And I'll miss you again, I don't want to be alone again.'

He found this almost heartbreaking, the woman who almost brought a nation to it's knees requiring company. He brought her close to him in a hug, 'Irene, as long as I'm alive you'll never be alone. You have my word.'

She smiled into his chest, savouring the moment. 'We'll see.' Irene almost whispered.

They admired the very last of the sun sinking into the sea, the last of its yellowy colour disappearing into the greying blue of the sea in the dark of the late evening sky.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! A few Italian words were in there so just to let you know a piazza is basically a town square and ristorante della spiaggia translates as restaurant of the beach (I'm not very creative with restaurant names.).

I've been to the Viareggio beach myself, it was coming back from the annual festival that me and my friends decided to take a walk on the beach where there was the most beautiful sunset that I have ever seen, so that pretty much inspired this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it.