A Love Bent, but Not Broken (Adlock One-Shot)

He'd heard she had come back to London. She hadn't liked it much in America. After she had assimilated into their population, she'd become ordinary, just like everyone else, and she hated that. His homeless network had told him all he'd needed to know about the 'new' Irene Adler. She was staying at Montague Street. A grin played on the corners of his mouth when he'd heard this. She did love to remind him of their past. She had been arraigned of all charges against her, so now she returned to London.

He knew she would be coming soon. They simply could not be kept apart if they were within a one hundred mile radius of each other. Yes, he knew she was coming, it was imminent, but he did not expect it to be so soon.

He heard a knock on the door of 221B. He faintly picked up the sound of Mrs. Hudson opening the door. Clop. The sound was distinct, yes, he knew it well. Three years had elapsed since he had last heard it, but that did not matter. He felt his heart beat faster as the noises continued up the stairs. Clop, clop, clop, clop, clop, clop. The noises stopped right outside his room. She now stood behind the door to his flat. There on that landing was 'The Woman', the most lionized female in all of London.

The nob turned. The door opened, and there she stood. His eyes were plastered to her personage. He felt as if a shackle had been placed around his throat, preventing him from breathing. He always kept his rooms cold, but now he felt as if a sweltering heat had come over him. She closed the door behind her, and walked further into the room.

"Hello, Sherlock." The words dripped from her mouth like liquid chocolate. This was all part of her meticulous plan, and he knew it. She conspired to make him lose his self-control. He had apprehended this concept long ago.

She came closer to him, so that she was just in front of him as he sat in his armchair. She was so close, too close. His mind went into anarchy. He hadn't been prepared for this.

She placed her hand on his, and a bizarre shock ran through his body. It'd been so long since they'd touched, and it drove him mad to feel her once more. For her, this was amusing. For him, it was calamitous. There had always been a great deal of dissension between them in such areas.

He was just about to relax, but then he felt a sharp pang of pain in his cheek, a red handprint marking the spot where she'd hit him. Oh God, she was upset. This would lead to an interrogation, and he knew it.

"Long time, no see, Mr. Holmes." She said through gritted teeth, taking a step back to assert her dominance. "I must admit, three years ago you had me fooled." She chuckled darkly, looking down and breaking their eye contact. "I really believed all those empty words, those hollow promises."

He flinched as her words sent a shiver down his spine.

He tried to speak, "Irene I-".

"NO SHERLOCK!" She raised her voice, taking a power step towards him. "NO! Don't even start! You had your chance to talk! You had so many chances! I gave you chances! Now, it's my turn!"

In layman's terms, 'she shut him up'. He receded further into his chair, preparing himself for the painful moments he knew would follow.

"Three years, three years since we've last met. It must not seem so long to you: Sherlock Holmes, the great detective to which all life is fleeting. To me, however..." Her voice trailed off as the first signs of wetness appeared in her eyes. "To me, these were the hardest three years of my life." Her voice broke as she spoke those words.

She felt as if she might break. All this pain, all this hurt, all these feelings that had been locked up inside were about to be let loose. She did her best not to show how emotional she truly was, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before she broke. She continued with her narrative, voice cracking, breath shaking.