1 whip

[chastise]

[If anyone's been feeling like all they need to do at the stroke of midnight, after being cooped up for three days is to wander around, and happen to make their way into the lobby they're going to notice a brand new arrival.

A very wet, very scarcely dressed in one deep blue housecoat, new arrival. There's a smile playing about her lips as she touches the fingers of her right hand to the wall curiously. 100% solid beneath her fingers]

Oh, that's interesting...

Comments

[confidente]

[ Funny, that's exactly what he wanted to do. He couldn't sleep after all, but promised himself he'll go back to that room for Catelyn later, to escort her back to her own dwelling. It's the polite thing to do.

So he's walking down the stairs when she appears, half focused in his phone (he was going to send a text just to make sure Sherlock survived—he never manages to finish it). Her voice drags his attention from it and he stops dead in his tracks, forehead furrowing into a frown.

...

He knows that coat. ]

[workaphilic]

[There is, in fact, one such person.

He's wound up from three days of Mycroft, three days of having old wounds scraped against concrete, of sitting in the same damn place whether he wanted to or not. It was chafing. Infuriating.

Cabin fever, is that what it's called?

The second the lock came undone -- had to get out, had to move. He's pacing through the castle, nearly prowling, no set destination other than not that room.

And he walks right past her without a second glance.]

[chastise]

[Oh, castle, while you've gone and made her the perfect gift, you're just dropping all the most pleasant things into her lap. Because it doesn't take long for her notice someone's in her immediate vicinity, and when she sees who it is, well...

She has to turn to face him, smile widening. Why are their first meetings always when she's lacking clothes?]

You're not even going to say hello? I did expect better from you.

[chastise]

[It doesn't bother her, not really. She's got nothing suspicious out of that. He's either real and here, or he's not, and either way she's never expected him to operate on a level even close to normal.

She will however, raise her voice. The amusement of her situation is still here, but delight comes along for the ride as well]

Mr. Holmes.

[Just that, nothing else, but really, that's all she needs]

[confidente]

[ His forehead furrows further, a bright neon light sign of confusion taking up residence on his face. This woman appears to know him, odd, he's pretty sure he'd remember her if they met. Especially considering she's wearing something of Sherlock's. ]

Sorry. [ A beat. ] Hello.

[chastise]

[Noticing her for all the wrong reasons John, tsk tsk. You've got a nearly naked, very beautiful woman in your vicinity, and probably a sight far better than the ones on your computer and you care about the coat?

You don't play properly at all]

No need to be sorry, it was merely an observation.

[workaphilic]

[He turns on his heel, ready to retort, to snap back. (Reputation is preceding him. Piss off.) But his attention is slippery, unpredictable, and once she has it all the data hits him at once.

He Stares.]

That-- [is his housecoat. His. He can feel the itch in the back of his throat, his loss scratching at him like a parasite. Rephrase.] Where did you get that?

[chastise]

[Her fingers dance alone the wall as she turns to face him properly. Oh yes, that was definitely the right move. The question is surprising, he's never so blatantly obvious, nor is he this sort of forgetful]

It was a gift. [More or less, she's very clearly humouring you]

[confidente]

[ Oh, he has noticed that. Don't think he hasn't. It's a little hard not too. He's just got something else sitting on the forefront of his mind, namely how does a beautiful very naked woman know him? ]

No, I think I do. [ He takes the last few steps down the staircase and closes his phone. ] I'm, having a bit of trouble here actually... have we met?

[isbritishgov]

[It's a little later that Mycroft comes out as well, umbrella stabbing more into the floor with slightly more force then absolutely needed (it is stone), face as usual missing any hint of his thoughts.

It's only through habit (routine, training really), that he notices someone in the lobby as he passes (can't be caught unaware, not with his job). And while normally he would be willing to go right on, today? Today he's not.

It's that housecoat. And whose wearing it.

It's enough to stop him in his tracks really.]

What were you doing in the rooms of Sherlock Holmes, Ms. Adler?

[workaphilic]

Can say with one hundred percent certainty that it wasn't.

[chastise]

[Hmm, now that's very interesting. Her face isn't going to give anyway, and she makes a slow path toward him, considering]

You think we haven't?

[chastise]

Can you?

[She's stepping closer now, mostly for her own curiousity in an attempt to determine the validity of the conversation she's having. That would be your own shampoo your catching, from her slowly drying hair]

[confidente]

[ He purses his lips together, shaking his head. ] Not that I can remember.

[chastise]

[Well, that's certainly a faster meeting than she was banking on, and lends her mind more to the reality induced side of things. In the high unlikely event she was successfully drugged, Mycroft Holmes would be the last thing she'd be hallucinating.

But that does offer very big, very interesting questions]

I'm sure your mind can come up with a few answers. Why don't you pick the one you like.

[workaphilic]

Yes.

[He holds his ground, gaze probing, calculating. There's something-- something he's missing--]

Really hope you had the presence of mind to steal something actually valuable when you broke into my flat.

[chastise]

You haven't suffered a head injury recently.

[It's not a question. It's easy enough to notice, and her own brow furrows, just the slightest bit. That's very curious]

Yes, Mr. Watson, I'd say we've met.

[chastise]

You think someone would break into a flat, and take a shower? Mr. Holmes, you're losing your touch.

[Really, you can be more reasonable than that. But her amusement is spreading thin a little, around the eyes]

[isbritishgov]

[No not many would hallucinate Mycroft, it's why he's so good at bringing others back to reality really.

However he can not help but wonder why he is seeing Irene Adler, known by reputation only, here.

What did she do, seduce his brother?]

You, were involved in a case, of interest to my brother and invaded his home. [Because seducing Sherlock...no that couldn't be.]

[confidente]

[ He could have. Not that he really knows. There is too much of his memory that is just blank. ]

I have no idea who you are.

[chastise]

I had noticed. My name is Irene Adler.

[You're going to find out sooner or later, it's not like it's a hardship here. But that doesn't make him any more clued in. It's the first time in a long time she's had to think about her next move]

[workaphilic]

[He shrugs.]

Don't see an alternative explanation. Do you?

[confidente]

Well, then. [ He feels bad, almost, even a little guilty. He can only imagine how it must feel when a familiar face doesn't know how you are. It does make him curious how familiar with Irene he actually is. ] Nice to meet you.

[ ...Awkward. ]

[chastise]

[Yeah, that's what happened. John got so tired of him being bitchy all the time, he hired her via email and...

The look on his face, might have been amusing had she tried that]

He is the most generous when he's interested, isn't he?

[chastise]

[It must be a pain to be so nice, John. Her brow smooths out, and she's amused again. You are such a little liar]

Are we the only people here?