The Art Of Corruption ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book III}

Chapter 6- Crossing The Line

Emily's POV

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Millie looks up, blinking at Irene, realisation setting in. 

"What?"

"Boundaries. As in we need to talk. About limits."

"Limits...?"

Irene sighs, and shakes her head slightly-

"Come on, Millie. Use that brilliant brain of yours."

Millie says nothing, studying Irene from a distance. I really don't think I should be here right now. I try to make my way over to the door, but Irene holds out her riding crop, using it as a barrier-

"I'm not finished with you, either."

Irene turns her attention back to Millie-

"Sherlock Holmes is interesting, don't you think?"

Millie's eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms. Irene continues, unaffected:

"But he's simple, too. He's still a man. And men like to feel important. They like someone to fuel their egos. Self inflation."

"Get to the point," snaps Millie.

Irene takes a step towards her:

"That's all you are to him. To Sherlock. You make him feel clever. And he loves to feel clever. But that's not what he needs, Millie. He needs someone to take control- to show him that there's more to life than just deductions. "

I tell myself that I'm not going to get involved: I will undoubtedly make it worse. This isn't my battle to fight. 

"And you're not very good at controlling situations are you, Millie?"

Millie raises her eyebrows-

"I could say the same to you. The last time we met, I seem to recall that you were hysterical."

Irene laughs, softly-

"Let's talk about 'the last time we met', shall we? You  went out of your way to save the life of a man who's sole purpose is to destroy Sherlock. You betrayed him. And now you have the nerve to turn up here, with your precious looks and words of praise, acting like you actually care for the poor man-"

Millie takes a step forward, too, and she looks down at Irene-

"Shall I refresh your memory Irene, seeing as you're diligently choosing to forget the basics. It was you who put us in that situation. It was you who almost drove Sherlock to suicide. You begged me to save Moriarty, after you pulled that trigger."

A very still, very pressing silence settles over us all. Irene has lost all of her previous composure; she's furious, her face flushed and eyes blazing-

"You're nothing to him. You need to step down from your idealistic podium and look around; Sherlock doesn't see you as anything more than a passing phase. He's blinded by your intellect; you're an enigma, a riddle, a puzzle that he hasn't quite solved. But he will. He always does. And then you're just another face in his world of facts and figures. That's the difference between you and me. See, I am more than just a mystery. I can control him, and he knows that. That's why he prevented my execution in Karachi. That's why he'll always come back for more. And you forget, Millie, you have already shown him that you're weak. You let Moriarty manipulate you;  you let him kiss you, mark you- and then you went back to Sherlock and expected him to trust you."

I can't listen to this anymore. I've got to say something. Millie looks sick; Irene's words hold so much pent-up venom they lacerate, designed to damage.