Deductions of my Heart: A Sherlock Fanfiction

39. Late Night Rendezvous

Finding room number 603, I knock. It was impressive, in the weeks I'd been watching Irene Adler she had moved hotels weekly and moved room numbers every day. Some may call that paranoid, but one could never be too careful. Especially for someone like The Dominatrix.

"Come in! It's open." I hear Irene call from further inside the room.

Bottle of wine in one hand, I open the door with the other, "You shouldn't just invite anyone in."

Irene smiles entering from the presumed bedroom, wearing a silky form fitting black dress, "I have a few hotel workers that keep me informed. Told them to look out for a dark haired beauty that dresses like a man."

"Ha, hilarious." I mumble taking in the room before me. Lit candles were scattered around every shelf and furniture piece. The dining room table was set for two, a meal already waiting to be eaten. Rose petals scattered upon the table cloth, couch, faux fur rug next to the blazing fireplace... basically scattered over any surface deemed sexual.

Here we go.

Noticing my offering, Irene takes the bottle, her fingers grazing my own, "My favorite? I'm flattered, truly."

Shrugging as if I hadn't been watching her for weeks now, I smile, "Lucky guess, thank you for the roses. They were lovely."

"Only the best for my rescuer, come have a seat. You look exhausted... long day?"

Humoring her, I wander over to the table, "Hardly."

My eyes scan the various assortment of stewed vegetables and marinated meats. Noticing the noodle soup in my bowl I pause, buckwheat noodles in hearty fish stock... adorned with some sweet pickled herring. The aroma hits me with a wave of nostalgia and I feel sad momentarily.

Taking her seat, Irene watches me with a smile, "Is something the matter?"

Sitting down I meet her eyes, "Nishin Soba... now it's my turn to be flattered it would seem."

Her smile widening, Irene opens the wine I'd brought, "Don't be, I must confess I got my information from an old pal of yours."

Moriarty. I had been in Japan chasing him when I'd discovered my love of this particular dish. It's a pity I can't eat this.

"I see... and how is my old pal? I assume that's why you've invited me here." I inquire, offering my empty glass to accept some wine.

After pouring my glass she pours some for herself, looking annoyed that I've cut right to the point of the evening, "Let us eat first, and negotiate after. I haven't enjoyed much company as of late."

Frowning I sip my wine, "As much as I want to, I cannot accept this meal. You'll have to enjoy it for the both of us."

"This isn't a trap." Irene clarifies firmly, sounding a bit hurt.

Smiling reassuringly, I meet her eyes, "Even so, you'll have to forgive me. Rules are rules. Though I do wonder when you acquired the information on my favorite meal."

When did Moriarty share such information with you? Recently? Or months ago when you were toying with Sherlock?

With a heavy sigh, Irene takes a bite of her soup, her eyes never leaving mine as she thoroughly enjoys the flavor of the broth. When she slurps up a noodle, she makes a breathy gasp and I break eye contact.

Giggling Irene dabs her bottom lip with a napkin, "Do you have a type?"

Predictable.

"I'm currently in a relationship."

"That's not what I asked." Irene responds, watching my face closely.