Last chapter guys! Happy reading!
Sherlock nodded. "Good day" he said, and left the room. Lestrade and Molly followed, Molly looking slightly shocked. Sally turned to go, and saw that Anderson had stayed behind.
He smiled warmly at Irene. "I am Anderson" he greeted, sticking out his hand. Irene took it without hesitation and squeezed it. She saw Sherlock watching her from the other room, and winked at him.
"That was really good" he added, when she didn't say anything in reply.
She smiled. "Thank you. I'm quite new at this, but I have a great teacher."
Anderson frowned slightly. "Ahh, you mean Sherlock…well, I suppose he can make strange first impressions."
Irene arched her brow.
"He does tend to repel most women you see" Anderson filled in, once again annoyed by her silence. "Some say the man has never even had sex!"
He realised when he said that that comment was probably far too much, but Irene laughed. A lovely tinkling laugh.
"Anyways, I'm here if you're interested" Anderson added, smiling.
But Catherine simply smirked at him.
"Thank you for the offer" she said, and glanced at Sherlock, whose face currently resembled a thunderstorm. She smirked. So much for him always being able to keep his emotions in check.
"But, I'm taken" she said simply, seeing Anderson's look of disappointment. "And I am not looking for anything to pass the time" she added, making sure he got her full meaning.
She smiled, and leaned in to whisper in Anderson's ear.
"And there is one thing you got wrong." She said, and paused for effect.
"I'm fairly sure that Sherlock Holmes has had sex before."
With that she winked at Anderson.
"Pleasure to meet you" she said, and left the room, leaving Anderson and sally staring after her, completely and utterly bewildered at the implications of her statement.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he and Irene exited the morgue. "So much for keeping it subtle" he said coolly, but his eyes were twinkling.
"Someone had to tell Anderson not to make more of an idiot of himself than he already is" Irene retorted. "And apparently, you were too busy being subtle-"
"Anderson is an idiot and that cannot be helped" Sherlock said, rolling his eyes, his dislike for the forensics detective having gone down even further.
"Well, someone had to make him stop flirting with me. And seeing that you decided not to-"
"Because I was trying to keep up the act!"
"Ahh, so if I would have let Anderson kiss me, and invite me over to his place because you were trying to keep up the act, nobody would have stopped me, yes?"
"Yes!" said Sherlock, sounding slightly exasperated. Suddenly he realised he had just said. "No!" he added, but it was too late and the damage was done. Irene smirked at him, knowing she had managed to beat him, again.
"Fine." She said, teasing him. "I'll just go over and tell Anderson that I accept his offer and-"
"What offer exactly?"
Irene arched her brow, wondering if Sherlock was only pretending to be ignorant to tease her or if he genuinely didn't know.
"Well the offer to sleep with him, obviously" she said. "I must say, sergeant Donovan didn't look too pleased at the fact, I'm guessing that she was the one he was having an affair with before, but-"
She broke off at the look on Sherlock's face. Apparently, he hadn't heard Anderson's exact words at the morgue, and had assumed that Anderson wouldn't make a move so quickly. Sherlock's face might have been controlled (or fairly controlled anyway) but in his eyes there was absolute fury.
"He offered you what?" he asked slowly. Irene raised an eyebrow.
"What happened to keeping it subtle?"
"Subtle when he said that? I'm glad I didn't hear exactly what he said, because otherwise he would definitely stay at that hospital. In a coma".
"Oh, but that would have ruined the act Sherlock!" Irene cried, trying not to laugh. "And that would have been such a shame!"
"Minx!" Sherlock muttered under his breath, but eventually joined in Irene's laughter.
Back in the morgue, Molly, Lestrade, Sally and Anderson were in something that one might call shock.
"Who was that woman?" Molly asked. She had to admit she felt slightly jealous. Sherlock never gave her the time of day, and she had been trying for years.
Lestrade shook his head. "I have no idea who she was. He didn't even mention her last name."
There was some silence, all of them trying to process the news that Sherlock might possibly be in a relationship. That was something they had always seen as impossible.
"How can the freak even be in a relationship?" Sally asked. "I mean, none of us can really put up with him, how can someone possibly manage for a longer length of time?"
"Well, John seems to be managing pretty well" Lestrade said thoughtfully, slightly irritated at what Sally had said. He understood her resentment towards Sherlock, even he couldn't really imagine being around Sherlock for a longer amount of time without punching him. But the way Sally spoke about him was just plain cruel sometimes.
Anderson just shook his head.
"He did act rather unaffected at the beginning…" he said in a slimy voice.
Lestrade raised his eyebrows. "Sure he did, but this is Sherlock. I can't say I've ever seen that much emotion in his eyes when he looks at a person. Ever. Not even John."
"He did almost have feelings for a woman once, I think." Molly said quietly. Everyone's head shot up at the news. Molly looked surprised by the attention.
"Well come on then!" Sally said, when Molly didn't say anything. "What happened? Who was it?"
"I …I don't know", Molly said. "I'm not sure he had feelings for her, but I'm certain that he knew her…intimately, somehow."
Lestrade frowned puzzled, while Anderson laughed. "Sherlock know someone intimately?" he said, and even Sally smirked. "Tell me this is a joke".
"He had to identify a body of a woman" Molly said, ignoring Anderson's laughter. "The face was all bashed up, but it was still easy to identify the facial features. He asked to see her whole body, and only then did he identify her."
Anderson's laughter cut off suddenly.
"Whose body was it?" Sally said, sounding shocked once again.
Molly shrugged. "I don't know…they never properly said."
Lestrade sighed. "The man's a mystery" he said. "Trying to figure him out will only make our heads hurt."
Irene only stayed at the flat for three more days. It was clear that both she and Sherlock needed a bit of time away from each other. They were always trying to best each other, even though a relationship was supposed to be about equality. John supposed that that was one side effect of having two ambitious and very clever people in one room together for over a week.
Although the tension between Irene and Sherlock rose with every extra day, John never doubted their affection for one another. Sherlock was now naturally protective of Irene, and showed feeling when he was around her. Proper feeling, and something that could only be described as gentleness and sweetness. If this wasn't Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler, John would almost call it cute.
He knew better than to say that aloud to them though, because they would kill him. They would never call their relationship cute, sometimes they almost refused to admit that they had a relationship.
John couldn't really understand it.
What did frustrate him though, was that Sherlock had managed to have a longer relationship with a woman than he had ever managed. Sarah was nice, and so were the other girls John had gone out with, but if he was honest with himself, then he couldn't really see himself settling into a proper relationship with them.
Then again, the relationship Sherlock and Irene had could hardly be described as normal or proper. Relationships were based on trust, and although Sherlock trusted Irene and she him, there was still a slight level of fear between them, the 'what if' notion. Slowly however, that unease was completely starting to fade.
Equality was another case. Irene and Sherlock were equals in wit and intelligence, but that only made the two of them compete with each other more. Both of them were dominant types of people, and had strong characters, not to mention that they were both very stubborn. John always ran out of the house when they began one of their battle of wits.
Finally, they didn't see each other all that often. John had no doubt that they corresponded though, either by Skype or by texting.
He sighed to himself. In retrospect, Irene and Sherlock's relationship was a bit more normal than he had first thought. He supposed he still had the 'consulting detective falls in love with dominatrix and wanted (supposedly dead) criminal' argument up his sleeve.
Sherlock went to the airport with Irene, and John didn't go with him. He knew that this was a private moment for the two of them, and didn't want to interrupt. He wished he could take photos though, it would be very useful to have something he could tease (or eventually blackmail) Sherlock with.
Sherlock had to admit that he felt sad at letting Irene go. He knew that though they had their arguments occasionally, he would miss her a lot. He supposed he would probably fly over to New Zealand soon.
Irene smiled at him, already perfectly disguised, wearing her wig and mask. He kissed her once, and she smiled at him.
He watched her while she walked through the terminal gate and sighed to himself, waiting for the text that was about to come. He smiled when the phone vibrated against his thigh.
He smiled to himself, turned up his coat collar and walked out of the airport.
He seemed happy and carefree.
He had no idea that his whole life was about to change.
Hope you all liked it! Soooo, that's this story finished, thank you sooooooo much for all the positive feedback, it was a huge help and inspiration! Stay tuned for the sequel!