InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Stop staring at me and WRITE!"

Irene Adler (makethembeg) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2012-01-30 21:18:00

Entry tags:

irene adler, jim moriarty

Who: Adler and Moriarty
What: Dinner
When: This evening, starting around 6pm
Where: Wherever he decides
Warnings: TBA

Planting the camera in Sherlock's apartment had been easier than she'd anticipated, even if he was obviously suspicious. No doubt he'd find it soon - if he hadn't already - but if it helped Moriarty bring him down, she'd accept any repercussions it brought. He had no way to prove it was her, at least, and using Carls name for the courier would hopefully make him suspect Moriarty more than her. And Moriarty was impressed, which amused her and annoyed her in equal measure. Did he really think her so ordinary? Well, dinner would change his mind. On that point she was determined.

The woman opened the latest text and smiled. 8pm. She could be ready by then, definitely. Standing and opening her wardrobe - she had insured to find an apartment with a proper walk-in - she started to browse. The money he'd provided had helped replenish her selection somewhat, and a few of her newly acquired clients had been very obliging, so her choice was adequate at least.

Some time later she'd settled on a McQueen dress and a pair of Louboutin shoes. The shoes she chose partly for their name - Lady Lynch. She felt it fit. Laying the dress out on her bed, she added sheer silk stockings and a garter belt and nodded to herself, satisfied. Then, remembering the temperature outside, she choose a fur opera jacket and added it to the outfit.

Now, she thought. Make up. Moments like these she missed Kate - the little red head had been so good at applying it just as she liked. But her own skill would do, and after a while she had carefully created subtly smoky eyes, and lips the same red as the soles of her shoes. After all, most of her acquaintances valued a kiss from one as much as a kiss from the other. Somehow she imagined Jim wouldn't value either, but the sentiment was there.

She dressed carefully, missing Kate yet again when she had to contort herself to pull up the zip on her dress, and popped her lipstick and phone into a little black clutch. One last check in the mirror, and she left the apartment at 8 on the dot. Timing had always been an innate skill of hers, and she imagined that punctuality was valued by the Irish man. Whom she had no desire to annoy - yet.

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makethembeg
2012-02-19 08:42 pm UTC (link)

She took a deep breath before she replied. "I have my pride Mr Moriarty. Maybe we're not equals, but I'd hardly admit that, would I?" And she wouldn't. She would tell him he had the power, yes, but to say he was superior to her? It would kill her. She never admitted inferiority to anyone, not even Sherlock, and she was damned if she was going to do so now. She was terrified, true, but that was better than belittling herself.

She bit her lip when he said there was no shame in Sherlock beating her. Maybe he didn't think so, but The Woman was not beaten, not ever, and it still stung. But she simply nodded. "I am glad you have plans. If there is anything I can do to advance them, please tell me. I want to see him fall as much as you do. As you already know." And she meant it; if she could help she would, no matter the request. She wanted him to learn how it felt more than she had wanted anything in her life.

His comment about his sense of taste made her smile slightly. "Oh, you do. Between the suit and the wine I'm very impressed so far. I'm enjoying it thoroughly, thank you." She took a third sip, swirling it around appreciatively. A small sip though, as with the previous two; she had no intention of getting drunk and letting her guard drop.

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