You're An Idiot, Sherlock Holmes (OC x Sherlock)

Measurements

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"Hello?" A female voice said from the intercom as I hunched behind the bushes. I bent lower to the ground to make sure I wasn't seen from the woman.

"Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you," Sherlock stammered, startled and in character. "I've just been attacked, and I think they took my wallet and um, and my phone." He turned his head from left to right. "Please, could you help me?"

"I can phone the police if you want." 

"Thank you, thank you! Could you please?" he asked frantically. "Would you mind if I just waited here, until they come? Thank you, thank you so much."

The intercom buzzed and the front door opened. I leaped out of the bushes and followed Sherlock into the house, who pressed a handkerchief against his cheek. 

"I saw it all happen," I told the woman by the intercom. I quickly scanned the house. "I'm a doctor, it's okay." I closed the door behind me. "Do you have a first-aid kit?"

"In the kitchen," she informed, motioning to the kitchen. 

"Thank you."

Sherlock walked into the living room still shaken and I walked into the kitchen, opening and closing all of the cabinets and drawers when the woman wasn't looking, searching for both the first aid kit and the photos. Those suckers could be hidden in the most unexpected place imaginable. 

After no luck of finding the kit (that lying bitch), I chose to get a bowl, fill it with warm water, and find a cloth napkin. 

After getting everything I needed, I walked into the living room, hearing a familiar voice. "Look at those cheekbones, I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?"

My brows furrowed as I looked up from the bowl as I walked into the room. My mouth came slightly ajar in shock as Irene Adler, in front of my eyes, stood in the middle of the living room naked, looking down at Sherlock on the couch. My soft gasp caught her attention and she quickly looked up at me. After finally seeing her in her infamous appearance, all of those memories and reasons on how she caused me to leave America came back to me at the speed of light. 

And Irene didn't forget me either, telling by her face. A coy smirk tugged on the corners of her blood-red lips, reading my expression, knowing how much she's hurt me, and she was proud of it. All those scandals. All those lies.

I involuntarily dropped the bowl on the carpet in shock and the muffled sound of a crack entered the room, being the only sound. The water soaked into the carpet and got on my shoes as my brain jogged up for something to say. It's been years since she's ruined my life, what could I possibly say? I part my lips, ready to say the first thing to her since those seven years ago.

"I've missed something, haven't I?" I asked with pretended trouble, avoiding eye contact and glancing at Sherlock. My eyes followed up Irene's body to the clergy in her mouth and my forehead creased.

I glanced back at Sherlock once more and he raised a brow at me before nodding towards Irene. He wants to know what happened. 

"Oh look at that." I let out a nervous chuckle as I pointed to Sherlock's cheekbones. "I guess you could cut your hand slapping him! Maybe don't do that." I stepped over the shards from the bowl as I continued staring at the floor.

"Please," Irene purred, taking the clerical collar out of her mouth and waving it around flirtatiously, "have a seat. Or if you'd like to have some tea, I can call the maid." Sherlock repositioned himself uncomfortably on the couch as I slowly sat down next to him.