From desk worker detective to Sergeant at Scotland Yard, Adelaide Gregson has come a long way from her days in Manhattan. When one consulting detective catches her eye, things get complicated. When a case now means life or death, will sentiment prov...
When we arrived back in London we were greeted by a sleek black car to pick us up. I rolled my eyes when I realized who sent it, Mycroft. The car took the two of us to the Diogenes Club where I followed Sherlock back into an office that must have belonged to Mycroft.
"Hello brother mine, Adelaide." Mycroft said, suspiciously looking between the two of us, undoubtedly deducting what had happened only last night but electing to ignore it.
"This is about Irene Adler I assume." I said, taking a seat in his office. Mycroft nodded as he and Sherlock both sat down as well.
"She doesn't want anything. She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour." Mycroft explained.
"A power play." Sherlock cooed, glad to be putting his brain back to good use.
"A power play with the most powerful family in Britain." I continued.
"She's in London currently, I'll text you the details." Mycroft said as Sherlock grabbed his coat and walked out the door, I followed suit.
"Where to now?" I asked Sherlock after I had stepped outside of the Diogenes Club.
"Drop our stuff back at the flat, you can change if you'd like. Then we'll go get the photographs." Sherlock explained in the car. I smirked, the Sherlock I know and love was back.
I was dropped at your flat and left my suitcase in the living room. I freshened up and opted for a simple dress and heels. Normally I might have worn something a little more casual but I wanted to look my best when I met this Adler woman. I wanted to make sure she didn't get any ideas about stealing Sherlock. God, now I was jealous of a woman I had never even met. I greeted Mrs. Astor on the way out and ensured her that I was okay.
I met Sherlock half way between our two flats and hailed a cab.
"So are we just going to ring her doorbell?" I asked.
"Yes, just here please!" Sherlock yelled to the cabbie when we were still a few blocks from the address Mycroft gave us. I gave Sherlock a confused look as I followed him out of the car and into a nearby alley.
Sherlock ripped off his scarf, folded it, and placed it in his pockets.
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"What are we doing here?" I asked, looking around, my heels clicking on the dirty cement.
"Punch me in the face." Sherlock said casually and I looked at him like he was crazy.
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