just finished watching 2x01 ; spoilers in the comments!

[byherheart]

What is it, that they say?

'The game's afoot.'

How thrilling.

Comments

[byherheart]

[That gets a laugh out of her, after a few moments of silence.]

Shall I psycho-analyze you and let you know for sure? I love a good masochist.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

I would cherish your insight. As a professional in the industry, after all.

[byherheart]

[Is he messing with her? Irene eyes him for a moment or two before she steps forward, to eye him, gently adjusting his head by a few fingers to his chin, arching her eyebrows.]

I'd love to slap you to be sure, but --

[Irene tilts her head slightly before patting his cheek lightly.]

An addict of adrenaline is not the same thing as a lover of pain, my favorite genius.

Moriarty will tear you to pieces. You won't enjoy it.

[Neither will I.]

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Ah, yes, your favourite threat.

[Or promise. He leans into the pat, eyes closing, but smiles.]

Moriarty is overconfident. I will move slowly, once I know enough for interference to prove effective.

[byherheart]

[The thoughtful expression turns into a smile, at that, fingers brushing away his curls gently before she sighs.]

Moriarty may be overconfident, but he's also horrifically patient. And he lacks that delightful little moral subcode that you've seem to developed for yourself over the past months, with your friend and your landlady.

[But Irene is curious, and she has to know -- ]

How will you defeat him?

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

I don't know yet.

[He informs her, patiently.]

But I will turn my mind to it, with all my concentration, and it will make our little skirmish look like a game of hopscotch, the planning it will entail.

The moral code does chafe, a little- but it will help in this instance. You see, I would still kill any number of people to keep them from being hurt.

[byherheart]

A flexible moral code is useful in your line of work.

[But that won't save him from Moriarty and his brilliant insanity.]

The difference between you and he, Sherlock, is that he would murder an entire city just to keep you running. You must admire his tenacity at the art of causing pain. He's a perfectionist.

[She searches out his eyes, for a moment.]

He will stop at nothing to win.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Then I hope I do not learn what I am truly capable of.

[He answers her, meeting her gaze.]

Because I have long suspected that I would.

[byherheart]

I don't think you could.

[She doesn't look away.]

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

[Unflinching.]

Well-adjusted sociopath, remember?

[byherheart]

Of course.

But I still don't think you could do it.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

What other conclusions have you drawn about me?

Go on- you do the talking this time. Play detective.

[byherheart]

Why, to inflate your ego because you're better? I'll happily take your shoes for a day if you take mine.

[Mischievously, but Irene plays along, and settles to staring intently at him, searching, as Sherlock tends to do. Though she requires more of a true look instead of a cursory glance.]

Much of this is cheating -- I've had my eye on you for a long time, but let's try for something I've learned in the past weeks with you --

[And Irene tilts her head.]

There is absolutely nothing well-adjusted about you -- you hardly eat, you never sleep, and as for a normal healthy sexual relationship --

[She draws a finger down his chest with a grin.]

That would require time. You leave no loose ends, and nothing unanswered, but you have yet to respond to a single text from me. Something would tell me that you're afraid of connection, but I don't think that's quite right -- it's something far more complicated and layered than that. You like challenge and any of your associates, be it your landlady or your best friend or your neighborhood friendly dominatrix must be the same.

[And Irene leans forward slightly, to whisper in his ear -- ]

And you've a bit of croissant on your collar.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Almond or chocolate?

[He questions, smiling, eyes closing. As though a true detective would be able to know.]

John told you his observations about that. About my non-response being significant. Do you agree with the good doctor's analysis?

[byherheart]

Almond.

[Sounding quite amused, as she settles back on her heels.]

And I'm not certain -- you tell me.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

True, though I wanted the chocolate.

[He sighs, watching her closely.]

I disagree with him, but then I am predisposed to disagree with all assessments of my personality.

[byherheart]

Then I'm afraid I must agree with the good doctor out of principle.

[Simply agreeing would have let on too much as to what she would like to think.]

And you should have eaten the chocolate if you wanted it. Denying pleasure is only healthy when it quietly delights you.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Someone else had touched it.

[He defends, nose screwing up. He can keep thumbs in the fridge, but let someone else handle his pastry and he's completely off.]

There are other reasons to deny oneself pleasure.

[byherheart]

[She grins, at that, completely enthralled.]

Lecture me, then, of croissants.

Why do you?

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Why do I prefer chocolate?

[Tilting his head.]

Or why do I deny myself my vices?

[byherheart]

Both.

[The latter. But seeing inside that head of his is always a treat.]

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Because it's darker- sweeter, and better.

And because Mycroft barely tolerates me on my best behaviour. He won't stand for a little brother who is an addict.

[byherheart]

Denying yourself human connection hardly makes you an addict. The drugs, well --

[Irene waves a hand.]

That's what chocolate is for.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

I don't set out to deny myself human contact.

[They just sort of... tend to become frustrated and move on.]

[byherheart]

[Irene knows that. How attached he is to Watson proves that. But she's not going to point out the obvious to Sherlock Holmes.]

And here we are again, at you not answering my texts.

I'd still like that dinner.