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Tweak says, "Flannel? Lesbian Lingerie?"

hemademebeg (hemademebeg) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2012-02-24 23:17:00

Entry tags:

irene adler, sherlock holmes

Who: Sherlock and Adler
What: Explanations. And angst on Irene's part.
When: Friday evening, 24th Feb
Where: The medbay
Rating/Status: TBA/In progress

Irene lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes slowly, trying to ignore the pain that such a simple action caused. He had said he would come, which she hadn't expected. Part of her wanted to see him desperately, and another part wished he had asked her to type what had happened, so she could hate him in peace. Or love him in agony. To this day, she couldn't decide which emotion she truly felt for him. He had ruined her once, and for three years she had assisted Jim in bringing him down, but when it came to it...she couldn't bear the thought of a world without Sherlock. A world without those cheekbones and that almost-deserved arrogance wouldn't be right.

She flexed the fingers on her right hand very slowly, trying not to grimace. Jim had taken the skin from the front of her arm completely, and she knew it would be months, if not years, before she wielded a whip again. Although what was the point, she wondered bitterly? No one would want her like this, no one would fear her or worship a face so scarred. They had tried to heal her, but Jim knew their capabilities, and whatever he had done could not simply be removed. The hideous patches of wrinkled tissue were there to stay.

A mirror lay, face down, next to her bed. She had asked for it the day before but had yet to work up the courage to pick it up. But if Sherlock was to see her like this, she had to know. She had to see what he would see, to understand his reaction. He was a master of control, but she had surprised him in the past, and she doubted this time would be any different. Except this time it wouldn't be her battledress that shocked him. It was a pointless wish, but she would give anything to go back to that day, with the knowledge she had now. Anything.

Opening her eyes she reached for the mirror and slowly lifted it to her face. At first she couldn't understand what she was seeing. How could the mess she perceived be related to her face? How could...she just couldn't correlate the two. Her grip on the mirror got tighter, pain shooting through her arm, but she didn't notice or if she did she didn't care. Tears came, unbidden, and with a sudden violent gesture she flung the mirror across the room where it hit the door and fell to the floor, smashing on impact.

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thinkitthrough
2012-02-25 12:12 am UTC (link)

Sherlock had thought long and hard about how he was to respond to Irene's request. After all, each had an advantage and disadvantage. If she were to type out what had happened, he could present it to the Irene Adler of this time. He already had the note safely hidden away, and her own verification would help prove a point to her. But he would be unable to observe the way she held herself, her mannerisms and facial expressions. John had told him who she was, what she had done in their own world. He had managed to figure out most of it on his own. At least, what she was, that she was more than a name. But John had filled in the blanks. A woman he had outwitted and she had lost her life because he knew her secrets and nothing was safe. No wonder she didn't like him. Not that Sherlock actually cared one way or the other about people liking him. But it did make sense of why she was working with Moriarty here.

Still, she had apparently caught him off guard once by being naked. He doubted that would be the case here even if she was in a hospital gown, he could still make his perceptions. But then there would be the issue of what was said. He would know more certainly if she were lying, though he already knew a woman such as Irene Adler would never allow herself to be injured in a way to ruin her career. But it would be harder to convince the present time Irene of what had happened. Oh undoubtedly Moriarty from three years in the future would do something to her. She couldn't remain naive. But how much was to be known? That was the question. And Sherlock hated questions without answers. There had been pacing involved before the ever so simple answer occurred to him. A tape recorder. They were quite useful, really.

Solution in mind, the man had responded to Irene, made sure that the batteries would last and then headed to the medbay. He already knew the basics. John had filled him in. He knew that she was not the woman that had enjoyed taunting them here. He had put the pieces together as he always did, still when he saw Irene, it was rather startling, though the only reaction he gave was a slight raise of the eyebrows. It would be rude to simply snap a picture... No matter. Making his way to the seat beside Irene's bed, Sherlock noted that other people who were there, the FBI agent who had been drugged up for a few weeks now, but she looked to be unconscious. Good.

Pressing play, Sherlock turned his attention to a future version of Irene Adler.

"Miss. Adler."

This was probably madness. He knew that there had been a mess involving someone from the future wishing to leave information they had here for their normal selves. Something about how it would alter everything. He had heard talk of butterfly theories and stepping on a bug and wiping people out of existence. This information could be more damaging than good, but Sherlock still hadn't decided just what he would do with it. He couldn't allow Moriarty to stay in power, that much was certain but he had to figure out just how to use the information he was to be given to ensure that Moriarty was no longer a threat but hopefully keep from destroying time as well.

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hemademebeg
2012-02-25 12:39 am UTC (link)

When Sherlock entered the room she didn't look up, didn't acknowledge him. She saw the raised eyebrows from the corner of her vision and her hands, clasped together in her lap, clenched slightly. Almost the same expression he'd had the first time they'd meet. Less disarmed, yes, but still. But then he spoke her name and she knew she had to accept that he was here, that he was seeing her like this, not naked and beautiful but flawed and broken.

She glanced up at him briefly and nodded, wincing without meaning to. "Sherlock." Then her gaze returned to her bed sheets and she closed her eyes. "I'm not sure where to start. I assume Watson has filled you in on all that happened between us, about how you took my protection from me? I was brought here directly after that, and have harboured more than a small amount of resentment since then. And when you arrived, and didn't know me...well, I was bitter, and then Jim contacted me. We met, and I resumed my normal work here, but any information I acquired I passed to him. He promised he would make you lose, feel like I had, hence my cooperation with him."

She paused, swallowing heavily, and she opened her eyes, looking properly at him for the first time. "As...as you can see" her voice quavered slightly "I stopped cooperating when I learned the extent of his plans, and it did not end well for me." That was an understatement, but he could see the results of her betrayal of Moriarty in front of him, she didn't need to elaborate on that point.

Pausing again, she reached for a glass of water on the bed side table, but the stretch was too much and she lay back, grimacing. "Would you mind? I haven't spoken in several days, and my throat is not dealing very well with it."

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thinkitthrough
2012-02-25 01:01 am UTC (link)

Sherlock remained perfectly poised, listening intently as he watched Irene. There was no sign of deceit. Not that he expected there to be any, but still, one could never be too certain. Especially when they worked with Moriarty. Of course, when one worked with Moriarty, they had to know the risks involved of disappointing him. The question was, though, had Irene truly known? Or had she assumed to be able to one up Moriarty as she was The Woman, someone who dominated men and women for profit.

"He has, yes. I had figured as much though he did give me the details."

There really wasn't all that much to elaborate on. Sherlock had already voiced his distrust of Irene to some because there were no such things as coincidence and she had just verified it. Had verified everything he had told Ruby. Still, that did no real good at the moment as she was injured and not of this time and would have to be convinced undoubtedly when she returned. Unless her present self found out information from the future. Time travel. It was a headache. Not to mention he was certain there were things John was keeping from him. Perhaps this lack of tea experiment would make him tell.

Right. No. This was not the time to consider the bet about who would drink the tea first or getting John to tell him what he was hiding. This was about getting information from Irene that could hopefully be used to bring Moriarty down sooner rather than later. He knew that everyone was on him to get information and fast, knew they wanted to destroy him before he killed. But they also were expecting miracles. Well, here a way had shown up that might be able to get them the information they needed but would they even take it as it was from the future?

People were so small minded.

Noticing as Irene reached for the water and then couldn't reach it from pain, Sherlock just nodded at her question. Care? Perhaps. A want for information, more likely. Still whatever it was that motivated Sherlock to do so, he did get the glass of water and handed it to the broken woman in the bed beside him.

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hemademebeg
2012-02-25 01:20 am UTC (link)

She took the water gratefully and carefully sipped. That was better. Bar cursing drowsily at Watson when he'd taken her phone the other day, she hadn't really spoken at all since she was dumped in the lobby, and between that and the damage to her face talking wasn't easy.

Cradling the glass in her hands she continued. "As you know, Jim is not one to speak freely of his intentions. But I had worked for him for so long, and shared his wish to see you fall so intently, that he was more honest with me than most. He tends to rant, and on one of those occasions he let slip that he didn't simply intend for you to lose. He intended for you to die."

Another sip of water. "There was trail of incidents which you of course had no problem following, leading you to Switzerland, to the infamous falls. You had almost reached them - on your own, at his onus, as he had arranged for certain tragedies to befall those you care about if you travelled with anyone - when I learnt the truth. That no matter what happened, you would not survive Reichenbach. I'm not sure he would have either, to be honest, but that didn't seem to bother him. You were his final problem, and I think he saw little point in continuing once it was 'solved'".

At this point she paused and looked away from him again, trying to hide the trepidation in what was left of her face. "You say Watson told you of us, before, in London. Did he tell you exactly how you won? How you came to guess the code for my phone? How you worked it out?" If he didn't know Irene was unsure if she could tell him. Could bring herself to be that truthful, that open about her own downfall. Her own stupidity. Which to this day she hadn't overcome, that even knowing what Jim would do to her couldn't overcome. She had thought, when she told Sherlock of his plans in her future, that he would protect her, but he was in Europe and had returned too late. In a way she had known it would happen; but she had still done it, still saved him, still sacrificed herself. For him.

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thinkitthrough
2012-02-25 02:12 am UTC (link)

As Irene took the glass of water, Sherlock sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent. After all, what really was there to say? This was Irene's tale to tell. He was just the listener. Why she wanted to even tell him all of this, Sherlock wasn't entirely sure. Oh yes, John had mentioned the fact that she had been in love with him supposedly, and that had been her downfall. Proof that Sherlock was right in that caring wasn't an advantage because it led to mistakes in trying to protect a loved one. That, and it was an annoyance when it happened. Really, this.. caring... he had for John and Mrs. Hudson and maybe even Lestrade and possibly Molly... well, it was a hinderance because it distracted him. Made him make mistakes. And apparently would lead to his potential death.

Was he surprised that Moriarty wished him to die? Not particularly. There had been that lovely incident in the pool after all, the phone call that had saved their lives for Sherlock had been more than willing to blow all of them up if it meant getting rid of the consultant criminal. There had been the comment about chasing waterfalls, the reference to the book "The Final Problem" and it seemed as though Moriarty wished for him to 'die' as his literary counterpart had, forgetting that the book character Sherlock Holmes had indeed survived and faked his death. Though then there was the fact that John had shown up here convinced he was dead.. Oh yes, Sherlock well knew that Moriarty wished him dead but wished to be the one who destroyed him first.

"If he wishes for a challenge, I do doubt he would care if he survived after my demise as it would mean he would have no one to entertain him."

Wasn't that what Moriarty was always filtering to him about? Being bored? How he shouldn't let that happen because of what it would mean for the people here. Yes. Sherlock and Moriarty could be seen as one and the same with Sherlock on the side of the angels, solving the interesting crimes and Moriarty creating them. Would a world really be able to exist without both of them? It was a strange idea to be certain but not one he was going to dwell on now.

Besides, Irene was asking a question and looked.. worried? Now that was something. But the question revealed just why. He could be cruel. Tell her that he did not know, see if she would reveal herself. But really, what was the point. This wasn't an experiment though apparently he had no qualms with experimenting on John if the tea incident he mentioned from London was any proof of that.

"Yes. He mentioned you had feelings for me. That your passcode was 'Sher'. That I played you, read your body language, your pulse and pupil dilation, in the end. And that is what led to this, then. Your feelings for me despite your anger. Yet you still told me..."

Okay. Not exactly a nice way of going about it, making her relive it as he spelled it out. But it could have been worse, he could have made her say it herself. John clearly was rubbing off on him if he had spared her that humiliation.

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hemademebeg
2012-02-25 02:49 am UTC (link)

Irene simply nodded when he extrapolated on why Jim would no longer care about living once he was gone. It was her theory too, and it made sense, when you took Moriarty's twisted logic into account.

She bowed her head when he confirmed that Watson had told him the whole story. So he knew, and he was Sherlock, so he also knew why she had warned him in the future. And she no longer cared if he judged her on her emotions; she was human, and if he wanted to pretend he wasn't then damn him. Being so cold, so detached from all that had happened? How could he simply brush it aside. Sure, he hadn't lived through it as she had. He hadn't felt the temptation she knew he experienced that night in his flat, before it all came crashing down. But he could at least pretend to empathise.

She looked up at him, the bitterness visible in her eyes. "Yes, I still told you. I wanted you to lose Sherlock, to feel what the rest of us feel, just the once. I thought, maybe, just maybe if you could understand that feeling then we could...we could..." she paused, controlling the quake in her voice "be something. Anything. Civil would have been a start. But instead you let him take me and punish me for daring to 'ruin something that could have been so beautiful'. He took my beauty in return for saving you. And then he made me beg."

She took a drink of water and looked away from him. She wasn't going to let him see the tears building. He didn't deserve to see them.

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thinkitthrough
2012-02-25 03:20 am UTC (link)

Irene was hardly the first person to be bitter at him. It didn't even register to him that he had said something wrong. Then again, it rarely registered to him when he did things like this. He honestly did think he had taken the nicer route. Well, nice for Sherlock. And usually only when John was around did Sherlock even have an idea of when he was being rude. So when she looked up at him with such bitterness, the man held no reaction. Oh, he knew what John had told him. That he had been intrigued by the woman before him, that her death had left him depressed. That he had taken up smoking again, but if it was for the reason either John or Irene seemed to think, Sherlock couldn't tell as he hadn't lived it.

Intrigued? Yes. After all, she had manage to seemingly thwart him for months in London. And that was impressive. Did it mean anything beyond that, though? Sherlock didn't know. He had already told people, countless times, that he was married to his work and he had meant it. Relationships meant nothing to him. He didn't even care about them. And here Irene seemed to think that they could be something? It didn't make sense to him. What could they possibly be? Civil? Did she know who she was talking to? Sherlock was abrasive and held nothing back. He was calculating and beyond John and Mrs. Hudson, he really didn't care one way or the other. Lestrade was... well, he was Lestrade and Molly had her uses and was important in her own way. But that was from working with them. Not just someone saving his life. He wasn't even civil with his own brother.

"You wish to humanize me, is that it? You wish to refuse that I'm a sociopath?"

He had no illusions of what he was and was not. Sherlock well knew he was a high functioning sociopath. He could play people when it suited his needs. He could read them, manipulate them. Just because he aided the cops did not make him a saint by any means. The side of the angels he may be on, but that didn't make him one at all. John got reactions from him, Mrs. Hudson. But they were different. He didn't know why but they were. Very annoying, really.

Still the fact that she blamed him for this?

"Explain to me, which time is it my fault or is it all my fault? My fault for not knowing you upon arriving here so you decided to join with him despite knowing the risks? My fault for not trusting you with good reason? My fault for, as you said, being in Europe when you told me? You seem to mistake me as someone who can do everything. Be everywhere. I observe, Miss Adler. I keep watch and find the clues. I am not a superhero who can appear out of thin air when I am needed. I am still just a man."

Sherlock had no grand delusions of grandeur. He knew his limitations. Oh, he was a genius, brilliant, the only one of his kind. And Moriarty was his foe. But he was not a superhero. And to be blamed for being in a different country? Well, how was that his fault?

"Your decisions, the choices you made, were your own. Your own motivations. To destroy me, to save me. I never forced your hand and you are a brilliant woman, you knew the risks involved but you let yourself think you were something more to him. Let yourself think you had standing with him when you should have known all along that he doesn't care about anyone and when people stop being useful to him, he will destroy them. I am sorry for your loss and I can imagine how hard it was for you to beg as you are the one who makes people beg, but do think things through before throwing blame and being like everyone else."

Honestly, it was tiring. Everyone expected everything from him. But they were so dull minded that it made sense.

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hemademebeg
2012-02-26 08:27 pm UTC (link)

"Humanise you? Hardly. And Sherlock, if you're a sociopath, then so am I." He had his pet, as did she once, and both of them had the same disregard for peoples feeling; even if she was better at acting concerned than he was, kept up a better show. But he could at least show a little gratitude for her sacrifice, damn it.

When he began to rant about her blame she looked away from him, trying to keep the anger she felt from showing on her face. She knew he wasn't a superhero, yes, but he could have done SOMETHING. Told Watson, told one of the complex idiots what she had done, that Moriarty would be after her. None of them trusted her, telling them herself would have been pointless, and in the future he knew that. But he had a point, yes, it wasn't all his fault. She needed someone to blame though, or she'd lose what little grip she had left of her sanity. "You could have told someone, anyone, that Moriarty would come for me after I warned you. They wouldn't believe me if I spoke up myself. But that was you in the future, so you're right, there's no point blaming the man in front of me right now."

And then he was telling her she thought she was something to Jim? Was he insane? He said himself she was a brilliant woman and he was right - she was not inane enough to think Jim had any attachment to her. "I did not think I was something more to him - no one means anything to that psychopath, except maybe that vapid blond 'princess' of his, Emma. Thank you for your apology, however. I am not going to blame myself for this, though" she paused, trying to keep the defeat out of her voice and not entirely succeeding "what would I have left if I did?"

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