Irene Adler (makethembeg) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-01-08 17:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | irene adler, thor |
Who: Irene Adler and whoever turns up!
What: The Woman arrives
Where: A Lawrence street
When: Evening of the 8th
Rating: TBD (It's Adler, so there'll be sexual/bdsm references if nothing else)
Status: In Progress
The woman was at least two turns from Baker Street by now, so she stopped and leaned against a wall, furiously fighting back the tears and fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She wasn't entirely sure which direction she'd walked in, but it didn't really matter - nowhere was safe, except maybe around him, and that was the last place she wanted to be.
She'd been stupid, so stupid, and she knew it – that was the worst part. He was right, she loved to play games, and the delicious thrill of using something so very obvious, so out of character had tempted her until she couldn't resist.
Temptation was within her trade though, so she should have known better - how many men and woman had she brought to their knees (literally in some cases) with a tantalizing smile and a riding crop dangling casually from one hand. A smirk teased the corner of her mouth as she thought of it. Then she remembered the cold, hard look in his eyes when he'd oh-so-slowly unlocked her phone, and it faded as quickly as it appeared. 'Know when you've been beaten', as her website said, and she did. Oh, she did.
Turning her head to rest her cheek against the wall, taking a deep breath, she let the rough feel of the stonework steady her. Concentrating on it, letting sensation rule for a second. Just long enough to rein in her emotion, to work out her next move. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, calmly.
Then the sensation changed, and she tensed, unnerved. Stone couldn't suddenly smooth itself, change its texture. Opening her eyes hesitantly, she suppressed a gasp as she took in the street in front of her. This....this was not London.
A split second of panic, then she quelled it ruthlessly. How could this happen? Drugs...no. She knew every chemical way to knock someone out and there was nothing that could do it this quickly and seamlessly. Then...was she hallucinating? Not normal for her, but again, a drug could do it. But there was no one who could have drugged her....Sherlock wouldn't, she knew that instinctively, and Mycroft was not that subtle.
The breeze made her shiver and she realised that where ever she was, it was cooler than London. The glitzy dress and tiny bolero she was wearing were not made for this weather. Which made her next step simpler – forget about working out how she got her, and move onto where here was – and if there was a warm place she could take advantage of.
Taking a moment to make sure her make up was still ok, and checking her phone was still with her (her secondary phone, she thought bitterly, but better than nothing) she glanced around, noting anything could tell her where she was.
A parked car, left hand drive. And another. License plates not English – not the UK then. All the street signs in English. Two fast food places – McDonalds, which could be anywhere, and...Chick-fil-A? What a ridiculous name...a 7-11. Almost definitely America then. And a newspaper, crumpled but still legible, a few feet from her. Which, having moved closer, told her she was in Lawrence, Kansas.
Where she knew no one. No one at all. She leant against the wall again, not caring now that it wasn't a London wall. At least here, she had some chance of staying safe. Now though.
She needed a plan.