3/14/2023 0 Comments Adlock fanficShe decided to humor him and dropped the subject entirely. “How did you do it?” she asked, ignoring his question and raising her eyebrows. “Why would it bother you?” he replied, narrowing his eyes with mock scrutiny. “At least I texted you a warning before I faked mine,” she quipped, still speaking in German and fiddling with the corners of her napkin compulsively. Speaking German made him blend in with the locals, as did his clothing, which made him look alarmingly like a Berliner. “Good day, miss.” He did not want to be caught speaking English, especially since it would expose his being a foreigner, which could lead to the discovery that he was not genuinely dead. ![]() She tried to look as sultry and conniving as she could, but it was difficult to do so. Sherlock Holmes stepped out from behind and took the seat opposite her. She may have jumped just a little when the sides of her chair were suddenly gripped by two white hands, and Mr. You’re wearingĪ blue dress, black heels, and a tear-stained face. You’re sitting under a chrystal chandelier that wasīought in Mumbai, by the looks of it. Her fingers bled fire as she formed each response with intense agility: Of all the dirty tricks she had expected him to play, this one was the furthest from her mind. She picked it up, unlocked it, and gasped as she read what it said and who it was from: Indeed, what a chemical defect this was, ceaselessly pouring over her like a river flows over a boulder. If she had been back in her room she most certainly would have been weeping. The empty minutes of nothing made her mind begin to fog with thoughts of the detective. She sat for about five minutes and began to wonder. She was given a seat and gloomily, she waited to be served. ![]() Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the tables were sumptuously set with linen placings. The Hotel Quarré, then, was equally luxurious. She had money, so she could easily afford the luxury Berlin hotel. Although her life’s work had been ruined, she was not stupid enough to not have anything saved. She was staying in the Hotel Adlon Kempinski and could see The Brandenburg Gate from her suite window. Just when she had thought “perhaps he might pop in,” it turned out he was dead. It made her think of the many times she had flirted with him. Dressing in a blue evening gown, she prepared herself for a meal at the Hotel Quarré. She wondered what had happened in their last moments. Blew his own brains out on the rooftop of the same hospital Sherlock had fallen from. He had paid her well for her work, yet she never fully trusted him. She knew it was something to do with that obsessive maniac, James Moriarty. Bartholomew’s Hospital building.īut the woman was by no means stupid. He had jumped from the rooftop of the St. She was in Berlin, not London, but news traveled fast, especially when it concerned the internationally reputed consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. Even that one author, whose reputation she had destroyed with her fun and games, was ruined forever, but she didn’t mind. She sighed, surely, but her eyes never once watered. Kate had been dead a year, and when Irene found her hanging by a rope from the closet door, no tear graced her cheek. She never let herself get attached, and people never meant anything to her. ![]() ![]() She didn’t cry for people she never cried for people. News had done something to crack her cold, violent mind, and now she was covering her mouth trying not to sob. She was still alone, hungry, and dangerous.īut at present, she was crying. Okay?Īnd lastly, I do not own any of the BBC Sherlock show, and no copyright infringement is intended. There’s no explicit sexual content, no nudity, no…scenes. You’ll get a nice big character-shaping session in the next chapter, so don’t give up on me.įor good measure, let me remind you of my disclaimer. Remember, it’s all coming together, people, and I’m shaping her character. I just have it in here because that’s kind of to be expected from someone like her. Nothing ever happens between them, because again, I don’t write smut. She has no intention of doing anything with him, and she can’t stand him. One note: In this section there is a certain character (who is NOT Sherlock) who comes to Irene intending to pay her for services. It was truly incredible, and I really want to share my adventures at Oxford with you all. More like wee long.īut, I hope you enjoy it while I cook up a Europe summary post. I’m so tired, and for now, all I have to offer for a new post is this wee little chapter. I do feel like I’ve been through the wringer. The Lord taught me so many lessons, and I have so so much to share. I arrived home from Europe only yesterday, and I can honestly say it was the best summer of my life. I’ve always wondered if he went to visit Irene in that period, and my little Adlock-shippin’ heart always assumed he did. Well, here it is – chapter two! This bit takes place after Sherlock falls from St.
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