#🌿001 — tcbefearless.🌿

[storyuntrue]

@tcbefearless: i'm having the best time of my life . / Irene to Sherlock :)

“𝑨𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕   𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔?”   The   question   is   poised   with   a   sarcastic   lilt,   full   lips   curling   into   a   quick   smile   that   didn’t   quite   reach   his   eyes.   Sherlock   was   most   definitely   not   a   natural   at   events   like   this   —   even   though   good   manners   and   aristocratic   behavior   has   been   instilled   in   him   since   his   youth   and   it   came   to   him   as   natural   as   breathing,   galas   involved   people.   Too   many   people   for   his   comfort,   and   most   of   them   wanted   to   socialize.   The   word   alone   sent   a   shiver   down   his   spine,   made   his   fingers   twitch   with   an   urge   to   light   up   a   cigarette.   “How   long   must   we   be   here   for?” 

[storyuntrue]

𝑨𝒍𝒍   𝒐𝒇   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕   𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒅   𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎   𝒉𝒊𝒔   𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚   at   her   confession   of   a   him   in   her   life   —   so   there   was   someone   she   was   working   for.   If   at   first   there   was   a   chance   of   Sherlock   letting   her   go   after   a   few   more   moments   of   provocation   and   fun beforehand,   that   chance   was   gone   with   the   revelation.   Another   mistake   Irene   made   apart   from   letting   that   tiny   bit   of   information   slip?   Resting   her   hand   next   to   his   by   the   plastic   box,   exposing   her   wrist   just   perfectly.   

In   a   flash   of   a   second   his   other   hand,   previously   comfortably   tucked   away   in   the   pocket   of   his   coat,   shoots   out   and  snaps   handcuffs   over   Irene’s   wrist.   His   other   hand   shifts   in   order   to   assist,   locking   her   into   it   fully   before   he   secures   the   other   band   over   his   own   wrist.   Without   an   offer   of   explanation,   Sherlock   keeps   his   eyes   on   her,   the   emotion   unreadable   within   the   clear   gaze,   and   pulls   out   his   phone,   quickly   redialing   the   last   caller   on   his   list.   “Lestrade?   Call   off   your   incompetent   hound   dogs,   I   no   longer   need   their   services.   — Yes,   she   has   left   the   premises.”   

There   was   another   question   sounding   from   the   other   side,   but   Sherlock   disconnected   the   call,   giving   Irene   a   smile,   but   this   time   it’s   much   tighter   and   with   a   significant   lack   of   mirth   to   it.   “You   and   I   are   about   to   have   a   very   lengthy   chat,   Mrs.   Adler.”   A beat  passes   as   he   quickly   looks   around,   adding  a   breathy:   “But   not   here.”   

Irene quickly turned to Sherlock, her smirk fading quickly and a soft frown etched across her features. He really knew how to get under her skin which only irked the blonde more. "Do you want approximately? Of accurately?" Irene knew that Sherlock would be able to read her too well, her hand released from the door knob to place next to his own on the box he so meticulously placed. "If I get arrested, then you'll have no one to chase and where would be the fun in that hm?" There was simply too much fun with Sherlock, she quirked her brow head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

"If I get done and they drag me out of here in cuffs, then you'll put me on a death sentence" there was no playing or joking at this point. "He will have me killed before I even make my way to the vehicle" Her employer wasn't forgiving, there was a reason she went country to country, and even why she stayed around 221b when in London. Protection.. for if she was near Sherlock, then Irene knew that she would be protected. Her face softened, blue hues now seeming to plead. "Sherlock, don't do this, please.." it wasn't like Irene to be vulnerable for even a second, this was certainly one of those moments where she was clearly in over her head, and a little burglary (to her at least) was distraction enough from what was really at play, and that was a target upon her head.

She let out a small breath - it shook.

"Don't make me beg anymore than I have to.. let me walk" Would he really sentence her to her supposed death? Irene hoped that he saw that she was being genuine, for once there was no lies or deception. Her words spoke nothing but the truth.. of course she left out who her employer was, but that all came in good time.

[storyuntrue]

𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌   𝒘𝒂𝒔   𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚   𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆   in   that   very   moment,   and   getting   it   knocked   out   of   him   will   take   more   than   just   a   snide   comment   about   his   supposed   inexperience   when   it   came   to   the   fairer   sex.   If   anything,   the   lopsided   smirk   sharpens   on   his   features,   showcasing   a   dimple   on   the   right   side   of   his   face.   He   doesn’t   offer   a   rebuttal   to   the   taunt,   keeps   his   mouth   shut   while   the   officer   checks   out   the   perimeter   near   them.   As   suspected,   the   man   was   much   too   lazy   to   check   out   the   supply   closet   —   or   any   other   door,   for   that   matter   —   in   the   corridor.   

So,   it’s   time   to   take   matters   into   his   own   hands.   

And   Sherlock   does   so   by   reaching   for   a clear plastic   box   on   one   of   the   shelves,   filled   with   all   sorts   of   garbage,   lucky   for   him,   many   of   which   would   make   quite   some   ruckus   if   tipped over   to   the   ground.   “I   wonder   what   would   happen   if   I   let   all   of   this   just   fall?   Do   you   think   the   officer   that   just   passed   us   would   hear   it   or   would   he   be   incompetent   enough   to   miss   it?”   His   words,   both   conversational   and   hushed,   seem   to   carry   a   lilt   of   amusement.   Though   not   exactly   sure   what   it   was   about   Irene   that   drew   so   much   playfulness   out   of   him,   Sherlock   was   not   about   to   pass   up   on   an   opportunity   to   gloat   and   make   her   squirm.   It   was,   after   all,   quite   a   rare   occurrence   to   have   the   scales   tipped   to   his   favor.   “How   quickly   do   you   think   they’d   have   the   whole   squad   here   with   guns   pointed   to   this   door?”   

Blue hues glanced up to Sherlock, narrowing ever so slightly, jaw clenching in irritation for a split second before she relaxed, and that smirk formed across her features instead. "I would like to think it's going quite well" she reported, "Sherlock Holmes, in a closet with a woman, close proximity too" was she playing? Naturally so. It was too much fun to not tease the consulting detective. Of course it was a ploy, Irene wasn't sure how to get out of this one, other than to simply trust Sherlock wouldn't give her up to the police.

Although anyone who knew Ms Adler would be certainly well aware that she wasn't in London just to steal the next set of valuable jewels. Irene always had another agenda, yet burglary was simply the fun of it. A distraction from what was really going on. She was about to make another comment when she heard the footsteps outside of the small closet. Her mouth shut immediately, ears listening out intently. "All clear!" She heard one police officer call, and then the footsteps shuffled into the distance. Irene let out a sigh of relief, her hand found the knob of the door, opening it quietly and slowly. "Well, this was fun Holmes" There was that confident smirk again, the mask that she so often placed. "But I really should be going now you seemed to have ruined my plans"

[storyuntrue]

𝑨   𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒈𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒅   𝒉𝒖𝒇𝒇   𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔   𝒐𝒖𝒕   𝒐𝒇   𝒉𝒊𝒎   at   her   explanation,   lips   pursed   and   eyes   narrowed.   “What   sort   of   a   party   is   this   anyway?   There’s   not   even   a   band,   or   a   string   quartet   or   even   a   dance   floor.”   His   petulant   side   was   winning   out   against   the   instilled   behavioral   training,   uncaring   who   could   hear   him   grumbling.   And   perhaps   they   should   hear,   the   host   specifically,   just   so   they’d   be   made   aware   how   incredibly   lacking   this   event   was.   

Sherlock’s   not   one   to   drink,   so   he   can’t   even   dull   the   boredom   he   felt   with   the   buzz   of   alcohol.   Not   that   he   should   even   get   near   any   sort   of   intoxication   in   the   first   place.   So   with   each   minute   ticking   by,   his   mood   was   getting   more   and   more   sour,   and   not   even   Irene’s   company   could   save   that.   “How   certain   are   you   that   this   man   is   even   going   to   show   up?   I   wouldn’t   call   this   good   place   for   a   trade,   especially   of   this   caliber.   Too   many   lights   and   too   many   people   who   are   on   a   constant   look   out   for   company.   Anyone   could   potentially   catch   sight   of   them   in   the   middle   of   the   deal.”

"depends on who you ask" Irene responded with a small smirk, taking a sip of the prosecco so elegantly clasped in her hand. Naturally she took the opportunity to dress for the event, blonde hair placed in waves and a long satin black dress to match that draped and hung at the back, leaving her shoulder blades bare. Upon her wrist she adorned a diamond tennis bracelet, with a few diamond rings to match and of course earrings to pull it together.

"Just until we are able to see the gentleman who is here to meet a buyer. Mr Kravitz, who has rather good intel on Jim and his web that I unfortunately do not have access to" Irene explained quietly, taking another sip of her wine as deep blue hues scanned the crowd. "I don't see him as of yet, so unfortunately Holmes, you'll have to keep with my company for a little longer." Unlike Sherlock, Irene thrived in events such as these. Targets to see, who had the most money that she could steal from naturally, it was after all in her nature.

[storyuntrue]

Perhaps  he   should’ve   been   more   obvious   with   his   sarcasm.   There   was   a   smile   tugging   at   the   corner   of   his   mouth,   but   it   may   just   be   Irene   just   mistook   it   for   him   being   proud   of   catching   her   red-handed.   Which   he   certainly   was,   though   not   as   proud   as   he   could   be.   The   reason   for   that   being   that   while   he   knew   he   was   hunting   down   a   female   burglar   and   knew   exactly   where   and   when   she’ll   strike,   he   did   not   actually   expect   to   confront   the   Woman   of   all   people.   A   flaw   of   his,   to   always   miss   something   has   mixed   with   his   blind   spot   when   it   came   to   Irene,   and   safe   to   say   that   it left him with a   concoction that was less than ideal.   

Escorted   by   the   blaring   sirens   of   the   alarm,   Sherlock   lets   himself   be   tugged   into   a   cramped   up   supply   closet,   where   his   amusement   with   the   entire   situation   renews.   The   police   squad   searching   for   them   were   Lestrade’s   team,   so   the   consulting   detective   wasn’t   really   concerned   about   getting   sniffed   out.   Partially   because   he   called   for   them,   and   partially   because   the   team   was   inadequate   enough   to   struggle   in their search for them.   “Well,   Irene,   I   must   say   that   your   plan   seems   to   be   going   swimmingly.”  

@storyuntrue ' where are we supposed to go from here? ' / sherlock to irene !

Breaking into the British Museum. It perhaps would have been Irene's best burglary yet. That was if Sherlock hadn't found her just as she was about to steal the beautiful diadem made of silver and sapphire from the cabinet. Ms Adler had managed to take out the cameras and the guards, all part of her plan, of course she would have guessed Holmes to realise she had returned to London.

The alarms had gone off, this wasn't good for either of them. Especially Irene. Blue eyes looked up to the detective, quirking her brow a small smirk forming. "The great Sherlock Holmes doesn't know where to go? Surprising" she mused in her usual teasing manner, taking hold of his hand she quickly pulled him away behind one of the exhibits, before making her way out to another corridor out of sight. "Back entrance is this way" she whispered, Irene was a professional at this, she knew what to do, where to go. However still annoyed at the Detective for finding her out and disrupting her plan, the diadem wasn't as important as her freedom right now. Blonde curls resting upon her shoulders, that same Parisian perfume lingering behind her, her signature scent. Yet she saw a shadow from the entrance that they had just walked from, in what was complete panic Irene practically yanked Holmes into the cleaning cupboard, it was a tight squeeze for just one person yet alone two adults.