Disadvantageous

Chapter 27

Lydia stared back at the woman in shock, wondering if she should trust her eyes. Despite only having ever seen a photograph of her, Lydia immediately recognised her as Irene Adler. But it couldn't have been her, Mycroft had claimed she had died.

"You know me?" Lydia finally asked, backing away from the door so that Irene could enter.

"Well, of course. I've always been one to keep up with the hot gossip, helped me get into people's trousers, to cause trouble," Irene began, strolling about the flat as Lydia watched her. "You see, I take from the press but do not rely on them. I mean, to completely miss that you and Sherlock have a daughter, how could they be so careless? I must admit, though, I didn't actually see that coming. To arouse Sherlock must have been quite a feat, though I see you have no trouble doing it now."

Irene dropped her gaze pointedly to look at the bulge still present beneath Sherlock's trousers. But if he was thrown off by this, he did not seem it. Instead, he entered the room and demanded, "what are you doing here, Ms. Adler? You do remember that my saving your life was conditional on you never seeing me again, do you not?"

"Oh, but how could I stay away from those glorious cheekbones?" As she spoke, she caressed his cheek, showing off her perfectly painted nails.

Lydia wanted nothing more than to drag this woman away from her partner, but Sherlock was quick to act, forcibly grabbing Irene's wrist and holding it away from his body.

She heaved a sigh and let her hand drop to her side, "no, the true reason I'm here is because I believe that someone's trying to kill me. You're the only one I trust to help me, Mr. Holmes."

"I already saved your life once, Ms. Adler, I don't need to do it again," Sherlock growled, turning his back on her as he made his way over to Lydia.

"Please, Mr. Holmes, I've no one else to turn to. I'm already supposed to be dead, you're the only one who knows the truth."

"Sherlock, perhaps we should hear her out," Lydia suggested as she placed her hand on Sherlock's arm. He frowned as he looked down at her, bewildered by the fact she was actually encouraging him to help the woman who had been so adamant to get him in bed with her.

"Very well, you have two minutes, Ms. Adler. Impress me or I'm turning you away."

Irene glanced over at Lydia, who gave her an encouraging nod, before she sat atop the couch and began her story. She told them of how she now lived in a large house a bit south of London, sharing the residence with only those whom she had hired to care for the estate as well as a few cooks. That afternoon, she had chosen not to eat her lunch simply because she had had a large breakfast and was not yet hungry. It was a good thing she had refrained from eating it, though, because the woman she had given her meal to ended up dead within the hour, poisoned.

"That's all you have?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her, clearly bored by her presence.

"That poisoned meal was clearly meant for me, Mr. Holmes. Surely you can help protect me, I doubt the killer will give up. Is there nothing that you can deduct?"

"Well, of course. Given your former occupation, I'd reckon he had a wife, you slept with her, causing her to leave him, and now he wants revenge. Unfortunately that does not narrow the list down at all."

"I slept with the wife? Why not the husband himself?" Irene asked before Lydia had a chance too.

"Obvious. The man clearly works for you, he had easy access to your food, and if you'd slept with him, he would have found a different way that wouldn't require him to interact directly with you. Doubt you'd remember him, but he wouldn't want to take that chance. Best course of action for you is to go home and fire everyone, then there'd be no one left to kill you."

"There's one problem with your theory, Mr. Holmes. I only hire women."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "then it was her wife then, it doesn't much matter. Point is, it's someone close to you."

"But I can't just fire them all, they've become like family. You know how isolating faking your death is, don't you? These women were the first people I have been able to make a connection with in years. You're asking me to throw that all away."

"Sentiment, it always was your weakness," Sherlock spat, rising from his chair to leave the room.

"Couldn't you just come over and talk to the girls, see if any of them are acting suspiciously?"

"And how often do you bring men to the estate?"

"Fairly often, you know me. Usually I'll tell the girls ahead of time, but I've surprised them a few times as well."

Sherlock shook his head, "it will be too obvious why I'm there, the killer will most likely only escalate in their desperation and it is more likely that they will succeed in their task of killing you."

Irene dropped her gaze to the ground and for a moment her strong facade faltered, revealing how scared she actually was. She had faced death before, had almost even accepted it, but the truth was that she was afraid to die. But it was foolish to hope that Sherlock would be willing to help her after all that had happened between them.

"What if I went in?" Lydia suggested, drawing Irene's gaze up towards her.

But Sherlock quickly shook his head, "absolutely not, I am not sending you in when there is a murderer running about. I'm not letting you put yourself in that much danger."

"But Sherlock, I can go in undetected. Ms. Adler can pretend to have hired me to fill the vacancy left by Ellie and-"

"Lia, I said no. I'm not going to risk your life on the off chance you'll be able to determine who the killer is."

Lydia rolled her eyes, "Sherlock you always use me as bait. Remember Elis? That serial killer bouncer? You've sent me into situations more dangerous than this without a blink of an eye. So don't tell me this is too dangerous."

"Lia, please, I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You'll be listening and watching the entire time, you can step in if things go awry."

"Why do you want to do this?"

"Because helping people is what you do and I'm not going to let you turn her away."

"No, I don't do this to help people. I do this to solve crimes, to keep my mind active."

"Bullocks."

Realising there was no point in arguing with Lydia any further, Sherlock heaved a sigh, "very well, we'll depart in the morning. Irene if you must stay the night here, I'm afraid all I can offer is the couch. It's not the most comfortable, but as far as I'm aware, there are no murderers after you in this building so it's a right sight better than your house."

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(A/N): So I may have had an insane term and completely forgot about this story, but I'm determined to finish it. Apologies for the bit of a cliff hanger I left you all on, but in all honesty, it could have been much worse. As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!