just finished watching 2x01 ; spoilers in the comments!

[byherheart]

What is it, that they say?

'The game's afoot.'

How thrilling.

Comments

[byherheart]

Dangerous people were after my blood, Sherlock.

[Quietly, though she does lose that flippancy.]

Being dead was what kept you safe.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

And I suppose the rest was worth a 'significant dent in the treasury.' Perhaps I'd be more offended if you'd sold my security breach for less.

[byherheart]

As I said.

[Evenly.]

Dangerous people were after my blood.

[Moriarty asks. Moriarty gets.]

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

And that's what I get, for playing the game.

[Recalling her words.]

Yes, in retrospect, perhaps I did try to keep you at arms length.

[byherheart]

You know the risks better than anyone else.

[Pause.]

Why, then? Why did you come after me?

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

I didn't know the risks. I'd never done that with anyone. I had never wanted to. I was reluctant to engage because I barely understood the rules. My inexperience made your success predictable.

But there are very few people in the world I deem to be worth troubling with, and no matter what you had done, you are one of them. I could not allow you to be killed.

[byherheart]

[She is quiet at that, but only for half a breath, before Irene offers him the tiniest of smiles, leaning forward ever so slightly, her tone warm.]

That is the fastest way to get yourself killed, my darling.

[ -- and then, a little quieter -- ]

I am sorry.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

I won't do it again, don't worry.

[He promises, quietly.]

I have only myself to blame.

[byherheart]

Why, for allowing for the opportunity to enjoy a person's company?

Any woman would be extraordinarily lucky to capture your interest.

[They, of course, pale in comparison to her, but Irene will keep her ego to herself this once.]

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

For what? To be used, like John is, against me? Or to use me in turn?

[byherheart]

I certainly wouldn't date a woman that can't shoot a gun, that's certain.

[Mildly.]

But your life is fraught with danger, Sherlock. Hiding yourself away from people won't change that.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Say what you like, I am never doing this again.

[A tiny bit of bite in his voice. This is the end of the discussion, for him.]

Tell me where you will go next?

[byherheart]

[She ruined a piece of him. That hurts, but Irene has no place to say so.]

Why would I tell you that?

The fun is in the puzzle, Sherlock.

I trust you can figure it out.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

The warm weather will suit you.

[He smiles.]

[byherheart]

[An arched eyebrow.]

Now you're just being funny.

Maybe I'm going to Siberia.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

A long beach of white sand, red lipstick and a white bathing suit under a beach umbrella, wooing and blackmailing some idiotic tourist or another. Sipping fruity concoctions, perfectly manicured toes under the warm sun.

[byherheart]

[She gently pushes his shoulder with a lazy laugh.]

Are you certain that isn't a fantasy?

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Perhaps I will tell it to myself on the occasional cold, London night.

[byherheart]

You could join me, you know.

When you tire of the rain and fog.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

And lead them to your doorstep?

[byherheart]

Of course not -- you're far too clever for that.

[Pleasantly.]

But every consulting detective needs a vacation -- one that even you can take unnoticed.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

I've never taken a vacation in my life.

[Amused. It isn't a 'no.']

[byherheart]

Well. There is your problem.

[lostwithoutmyblogger]

Is it my problem? The psychotic tendencies are nothing compared to the lack of vacation time?

[byherheart]

Quite obviously.

[Mildly, as she examines her nails.]

My entire life is something of a vacation and I've no complaints thusfar.