A/N: This is written by Irene, 2009 film, etc. Beta'd by me but all credit goes to her :) Yadda yadda, thank you for continuing reading! Yayness :D Next update (by me, not Irene) will be next week *suspense*
It was now late afternoon and Sherlock had tried all the obvious and some of the less obvious ones too but to no avail. Irene was definitely not in a hotel suite.
He went back to Briony Lodge which had been her last permanent address only to find it empty.
He returned to Oxford Street and found another person he was looking for, standing in the doorway of an empty shop unit.
"Samson, you were here in this very spot weren't you?" Sherlock asked the young urchin, dirt smeared all over his face, hands and feet.
"Yes Mr 'olmes," replied Samson.
"Did you see two women about one in the afternoon standing around conversing, one is about twenty three years old, wears bright dresses and hats to match? Considerably beautiful. The other is slightly older, late fifties in dark attire."
"Yes sir I did see them sir," said Samson rather enthusiastically; "you're right Mr 'olmes the younger woman is very beautiful. Got a soft spot for 'er hav' you sir?"
Sherlock inwardly smiled. "I just need to know where she went next."
"She went into 'enlye's Emporium ordered something to be sent to 'er 'ome later today under the name of Mrs Diana EneI."
"How do you know?"
"Well I followed 'er didn't I? Thought she might 'ave a bob or two on 'er considering she was ordering from 'enlyes."
"Very poor idea when Irene Adler is concerned lad."
"I know sir, only just been able to sit down, she gave me such a walloping with that baton she 'ad 'idden on 'er."
"That's my Irene," said Sherlock quietly as he started to walk towards Henlye's Emporium.
The queue was quite small when Sherlock arrived. He observed the delivery boys coming and going with large parcels. He snuck round the back, stole a spare uniform and made his way to the delivery hatch.
"I'm 'ere to collect a parcel for a Mrs Diana EneI," said Sherlock stealing Sampson's cockney accent as a disguise as well as messing up his hair a great deal. The back store clerk hardly looked up at him before he went to get Irene's parcel.
"This one's fragile don't drop it or you'll pay for it boy, deliver it to 16 Tavistock Street, Covent Garden and be quick it's late already," said the clerk, producing a small parcel barely larger than the palm of Sherlock's hand.
A few moments later Sherlock arrived at her address and rang the door bell. Unexpectedly an older male, the butler, answered the door. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I've come to deliver a package to Mrs Enel," said he, still not dropping the accent.
"Oh right, well if you leave it with me I'll make sure Mrs Enel gets it."
"Awfully sorry sir, but I've been told that I 'ave to deliver it to 'er personally or I'll loose me days wages sir."
The butler seemed put out but showed him through to the living room. "If you just wait here I'll go and tell Mrs Enel that you are here."
"What's going on Phillip?" Asked an old maid who had appeared from the kitchen doors that lead from the living room. Brother and sister, the butler is older by two years than the maid, thought Sherlock. They have the same slight damage in their left eyes.
"This man has been asked to deliver a parcel to the mistress, personally," said the butler putting the stress on the personally part.
"A present from the master perhaps?"
Sherlock winced at that last statement.
"Could be," the butler turned to Sherlock; "wait here please and don't take, touch or break anything."
Both brother and sister walked off together leaving Sherlock on his own.
Sherlock found the stairs to the upper floor with ease and followed them up until he smelt Irene's perfume. He let himself into the master bedroom, which was, without a doubt hers. Her scent was everywhere and it was driving Sherlock crazy. He was half way snooping through her items on her dressing table when the door opened and in stormed Irene with thunder clouds almost brewing over her head.
Sherlock quickly took solace behind a lilac curtain before she saw him and it was lucky he did.
As soon as the door had slammed shut she growled an unladylike and animalistic growl and forcefully knocked off a lampshade with her bare hands which shattered on the carpet.
"That pig face brute! How dare he do this to me! After all I have done for him! Bailed him out on numerous occasions! Well no one makes a fool of Irene Adler! No, not even Edward Enel!" She screamed, pacing up and down as she vowed against the man she hated. Sherlock sighed inwardly, it was not him she was mad at and now she seemed to have calmed down, as she was lying on her back on the lilac double bed; breathing heavily he decided to make his entrance.
"It's funny, I didn't notice that you were wearing a wedding ring when you came to Baker Street," said he. If Irene was surprised she didn't show it.
"What are you doing here?" She asked narrowing her eyes at him at the same time.
"Simply to return this," replied he, producing her hat from his coat pocket.
"How did you find me?" Said she as she took the hat from his hand.
"Ah! From this little parcel you ordered the day you met Mrs Hudson on Oxford Street," he threw it to her lightly. "Don't drop it, it's fragile"
Her features brightened immediately when she caught and opened the parcel to reveal a small gold necklace with a fragile looking diamond in the middle of the tear drop frame.
"Now why would you buy such a thing when you could steal one bigger and better than that any day of the week," commented Sherlock.
"It's a little cheer-up-Irene gift, to consol myself for having to be married, in this god awful country once again. Will you help me put it on?"
Sherlock obeyed with slight difficulty of being so close to her. It was getting better until the door opened and in came a middle aged gentleman with the beginnings of a very portly stomach.
"Diana! What the devil's going on here?"
EDIT EDIT: Oh, hey, out of interest, which do you prefer? Sherlock x John or Sherlock x Irene? Don't worry, we're not cutting pairings or anything, I'm just interested ^_^