It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

81 - Watson & Parrish, Adler & Holmes

What was not so happy about this little reunion was remembering why she was there in the first place.

"Is everything alright?" Sherlock finally asked as they drove.

"Yes...no."

"No?"

"If you were not driving I would slap you."

Sherlock looked at her with incredulity at hearing her statement, "I've just saved your life."

"After having condemned it first."

"It was nothing personal - "

"Nothing personal? You're a sore loser!" Irene huffed, looking out of the window,  "Had it not been for your huge ego and silly deductions, I would have never needed to be saved in the first place."

"No, instead the British economy would have needed to be saved from your ridiculous, extensive, thorough list of demands."

"It wasn't going to hurt their pockets...much."

Sherlock looked over at Irene, fighting back a smile before returning his gaze to the road. He knew she couldn't hold a grudge, not against him, especially knowing her feelings for him. He didn't reciprocate them in the same way though - his heart was already reserved for a young woman waiting for him at home.

"Why did you save me, Mr Holmes?"

"Couldn't let a mind like yours go to waste. Especially when there is so much...potential."

"Potential to do what?"

"Potential to use your exceptional manipulative espionage methods for good rather than greedy exploitation."

Irene smiled at this, flattered, and remained thoughtful for a moment before speaking again, "Do you want me, Mr Holmes?"

His brow crinkled in alarm at this question but he didn't meet her gaze, although he could feel it crawling up his arm, up his neck, before resting on his face. Sherlock would play dumb, playing dumb with her always seemed to work. If brainy was the new sexy then cluelessness had to ward her away...not that it did last time.

"Want...you?"

"Yes."

Perhaps being blunt would work better, "No."

"Oh...I must be getting mixed signals then because all the men who have wanted me have flattered me in some way...and then I own them in the bedroom." She paused, "Is there a desk where we're going?"

"Most definitely not." He spoke, his tone reflecting his inner alarm.

"Pity."

Irene's intense gaze finally left Sherlock and he suddenly felt like he could breathe. The Woman looked out of the window and began chuckling quietly to herself. His brow folded, eagle-like eyebrows lowering, eyes twinkling with puzzlement.

"What - what's funny?"

Grinning, Irene replied, "You, of course." She chuckled, "Mr Holmes, I am aware of where your true feelings lie and while you might have taken my pulse, you got one thing wrong in your deductions."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did." She nodded, "I am fond of you, I can't deny that - you're the detective in the funny hat who, I found, I strongly disliked manipulating - in the end. But I don't love you - what I said that evening was true: I couldn't believe you thought I loved you - but no, I'm gay and...actually quite fancy your girlfriend."

"You're - "

"Gay. Yes."

He nodded, blinking at the road, "Oh..."