A rose in London

4. Irene Adler

John Watson had come by your place early the next day. He asked about what Sherlock talked you about the other day and when you mention tea, he thought it to be a good idea. He was somewhat glad that you and Sherlock wanted to get along, but he was still concerned about Holmes' behaviour, though you did state you would come to get used to it.

He had originally come around to talk about Mary. He hoped you could shed some light on the right kind of ring he should buy. He wanted it to be perfect, but the moment he arrived, he was far more curious about Sherlock and you.

"He invited you round for tea himself?"

"He did. I think you were perhaps right about him fancying me." You smiled softly. "I don't recall anyone ever fancying me before, then again I don't meet many people."

"Their loss, I suppose. Why don't you come by now then? Sherlock is at home and he still doesn't have case."

"That would be lovely. Did you come for a reason, or was it just to see me?" You smiled at him.

"That would be a reason, but yes. It can wait however."

"Yes, you have a reason, or yes, you came to see me?"

"Both."

You grabbed your coat and kept up conversation with Watson right until you arrived at Baker Street. John opened the door and let you in first. Before he could close it, however, a voice called out to hold it, so he did. You watched as the pretty lady in pink hurried past you, giving you a quick smile as you let he pass.

"Thank you, doctor." She left.

"Someone you know?" You asked.

"Yes." He glanced upstairs. "I wonder what she was doing here." He sounded as if he was talking more to himself than he was to you. He began to climb the stairs, removing his coat and hat.

Confused by his behaviour, you followed him.

"John?"

Sherlock came rushing down the stairs and hurried to the window, pushing it open.

"Holmes, what are you doing? Are you wearing a false-"

"False nose? No." He was out of breath. Sherlock looked at you smiled quickly, before both of them looked downstairs. You followed their gaze, becoming confused by the strange behaviour.

"Tell me that that wasn't-"

Sherlock grabbed John's coat and hurried out the window, jumping down. You stuck your head out to see what he was doing.

There was a loud crash as he jumped onto an unstable platform and fell through it. He called for John, but all Watson did was pull you back inside gently and close the window, continuing upstairs.

When you reached the apartment it was empty and messy.

"Who was that woman?"

"Irene Adler." John muttered, picking up an envelope.

"A friend of Sherlock's?"

"Something like that."

"I see." You spotted the picture frame on the table which was laying face down. You picked it up and looked at it. It was her. Sherlock had a photo of her in his apartment. Why did that bother you ever so slightly? "He must really like her."

John turned around and saw you holding it.

"She's no good for him."

You put the picture frame back, standing it up.