I Am Sher-locked

29. Death Becomes Her

"Naomi Fox. I am your wife's new student. It's so nice to meet you Mr. Holmes!"

"Oh, isn't it just?", Sherlock plastered a fake grin on his face and turned to Irene who wished the earth would open to swallow her.

****************

There is a popular view that a person does sixty to eighty thousand thoughts a day, that is, about two and a half to three thousand thoughts an hour. But the moment Naomi appeared in front of them, Irene's mind must have been flooded with at least five thousand different thoughts in just one second. Some of those thoughts glowed brightly like casino signs and included the words danger, anger, Sherlock, pain, dissolution, and lies.

Swallowing nervously, she slowly looked up at Naomi and almost had a stroke as soon as she realized how provocatively dressed the redhead was. Quite a short black skirt with patterns of red flowers, a short bustier and high heels. Her red curls looked like flames and her lips were exactly the same color.

"Am I interrupting a moment?", Naomi smiled slyly and pulled Irene out of her trance. 

"On the contrary", Sherlock offered one of his coldest smiles. "Join us."

Irene couldn't react, everything happened so fast. Naomi agreed and in no time she settled to Irene's left. Sherlock was sitting to her right side. It was perfect, just PERFECT. Irene raised her hand and ordered drinks for them but she asked a double for herself. 

"So...", Sherlock rested his back against his chair and eyed Naomi curiously. The flame behind his eyes was burning. "Is my wife a good teacher?"

My wife. Possessive tone. How nice. Irene gulped her drink silently, staring at nowhere in particular. This would not end well.

"She's amazing", Naomi responded with a childish grin. "You have no idea how excited I am! A few hours with her and I feel like I know her!"

"Trust me, you don't know her", Sherlock made a snide comment, his smirk was venomous.

Irene chuckled humorlessly but didn't even bother to say anything. She lazily ran her fingers over the glass rim, staring at it at the same time. 

Naomi looked back and forth between them but never lost her grin. "Isn't it natural? I said that I feel like I know her. In reality I don't but I'm willing to know her", she said, determined.

"I'm still here", Irene finally spoke and raised her gaze to Naomi. "Why don't we change the subjest?", she shrugged. "How come you chose this particular bar?"

Suddenly Naomi lost her smile and for a brief moment glanced at Sherlock who watched her every movement like a hawk. "It was just a random choice...", she responded awkwardly. 

Oh, it was not random at all. Irene got it in an instant and if she was able to got it then Sherlock had gotten it much earlier than her. Naomi wished to see Irene outside the dance studio. 

"Do you like the music here?", Irene questioned almost indifferently. Small talk was not her forte, especially now that the atmosphere between them was pretty tensed.

"Yeah, I do", Naomi nodded her head but then turned to Sherlock. "How did you two meet?"

"Ah, it's a rather interesting story, isn't it, Irene?", Sherlock grinned and sipped his own drink. He was insufferable. Irene wanted to smack him but she restrained herself. "Irene was a domin--.."

"A client", Irene cut him off, glaring daggers at him, then her gaze softened once she turned to Naomi. "I was his client. You know, Sherlock is a detective. I was in need of his professional opinion on a very delicate matter. This is how we met", she lied effortlessly.