dear_mun | On the release of certain nude photos of a certain royal person...

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On the release of certain nude photos of a certain royal person...

Really dear, what good is it to me if compromising photographs I may or may not have are made public?

It's the potential for humiliation that's worth the wealth of a nation. So now that we've settled that it wasn't my doing, do stop giggling.

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Why were you filming him? We were supposed to be focusing on the casino itself!

A little insurance never hurts.

Too bad someone else had the same idea.

Haven't you enjoyed your games with that family enough?

There's no such thing.

[ Just this look, Irene. Aren't you supposed to be busy being dead instead of trussing up the royal family? ]

[So amused at that face, John.]

Hello, Dr. Watson.

Is this all you do with your time, then? Publicly embarrass royalty and forge autopsy reports? Must be quite a life you've styled for yourself.

[ There's a fair bit of animosity to his tone, but he's had a particularly lousy time what with a dead best friend and all so one has to expect a little hostility. ]

[Unfazed, because she's heard worse than that before.]

Did you really think I'd let a thing like a supposed beheading keep me from misbehaving?

[ There is nothing the least bit friendly about the smile he gives her. ]

Yeah, actually! Yeah, I sort of did, seeing as Mycroft was bloody thorough this time, but I guess you managed to find a way in the end! You should make a profession out of it -- but I guess you already did, didn't you?

[ God, he is so angry right now and he can't even place why. Just the sight of her has him almost shaking with the force of it. ]

Did you tell him, then? Before he- [ Nope, not even saying it, not touching that right now. ] Did you send him little texts when you got bored to toy with him some more? He thought you were alive, you know. I didn't tell him. I wasn't going to put him through that again, not after how bad he was the first time you played this game.

[His anger simply washes over her, and Irene watches him carefully, at the way he clenches, avoids certain words. It's obvious what he's avoiding, but she takes note of it anyway. Her words, in contrast, are calm, almost conversational.]

Do you really think I could have fooled Mycroft Holmes and Jim Moriarty by myself, Dr. Watson?

You fooled Sherlock once. Maybe just because he was grieving without even understanding what grieving was, but you still managed it. But no, since you're obviously trying to indicate you didn't do it alone I'm guessing you had somebody help you. So what, then? You've got help somewhere even higher up the ladder? Someone good enough to even get through Mycroft's connections?

[ The casual air just makes it even harder to rein his anger in but he tamps it down, falling back on a soldier's training to keep himself in line. A person like this is still alive, and Sherlock isn't? The thought is almost too much to handle. ]

[It's almost as if a switch has been thrown as he gets a hold of his anger. She tilts her head for a moment, studying him, wondering just how clouded he is by his anger.]

There's only one person in the world we both know who is good enough to fool Mycroft Holmes, Dr. Watson.

[She wonders if he'll get it. Or if he's too full of misplaced vitriol to understand. As for why she even offers the clue in the first place... well, she plays her games. Or perhaps it's a message she's been asked to pass on. Or it's for her own pleasures. Hard to say.]

[ He doesn't, at first; it's a lot of work to fall back on those old instincts now, harder than it used to be with how emotionally charged his life has become. It's been there for him in all the sadness, but doubling it up with anger? Not an easy feat. ]

And who-

[ Then it hits him, cutting him off. He stares at her, open-mouthed and shocked into silence. Who else could it have been? After a moment his mouth closes again, a flicker of rage mixed with pain crossing his features before he has it under control.

Sherlock helped her. He helped her, and he lied about it. ]

So. He was there, then. With you, in Karachi. Or were you never even in Karachi in the first place?

No, Mr. Holmes the elder got that detail right. But then it always takes a little truth to sell the lie.

[Like the measurements on her corpse, along with the cameraphone. The body along with the lack of pulse. She doesn't say this, of course. And in fact she's said very little of substance, hasn't she?]

I've seen that in action, thanks, so I don't have need for the clarification.

[ God, he hates her right now. He doesn't even know why, just that it's making his stomach turn. ]

Were you still in contact with him? Chatting it up in texts, flirting to your heart's content? He'd seemed awfully cross with you after you tricked him but I guess the two of you worked through that in the end.

Why are you so angry, Dr. Watson. It's rather disproportionate that you seem liable to attack me now.

[She doesn't answer the question. Because to answer it would be either to lie or to put lie to the one he believes. And she has her own obligations to fulfill that weren't to John Watson.]

Edited 2012-08-23 05:27 (UTC)

I'm not going to attack you, even if I think you damned well deserve it for everything you've done.

[ And he's not going to answer the question either, though for different reasons; he doesn't quite understand himself why he's so angry. Some part of him wants to make her answer his question, force her to tell him how deep the lie went, but for the most part he finds he just doesn't want to know. It's hurtful enough as it is, and he doesn't understand that feeling, either. ]

And what exactly have I done?

[Because she's dreadfully curious exactly what he'd put the blame for at her feet.]

"What exactly-" I'm sorry, do you need a list?

[ His jaw tightens, shoulders squaring as he still struggles to keep his temper in check. ]

You toyed with him, you tortured him with a fake death, you used him to get the information you needed to send off to James Moriarty, criminal mastermind, and then when he finally bested you in the end he still goes through the trouble of saving your life and you didn't even-

[ He's not sure how he got on towards shouting towards the end; it's ringing in his ears by the time he stops himself, breathing hard and trembling. The words are bitter enough to choke on. You didn't even come back and do the same. Would her word have been enough to sway the world into believing that Moriarty was real? Doubtful. But she didn't even bloody try.

When he speaks again he's reined himself in, but it's a struggle. Why is he even still here doing this? ]

You know what you've done. You know perfectly well. I'm not going over it again just to satisfy your bloody ego.

[She arches an eyebrow at his recitation, utterly unbothered by his progressive rise in volume, and crosses her arms in front of her.

Irene doesn't point out that he'd won. That she paid for all of that by being thought dead and in hiding without any of her protection other than wits and death. She doesn't point it out because it is painfully obvious and she doesn't owe John Watson that.]

I was following your irrational line of thought up until the end. "And you didn't even" what, Dr. Watson?

[Okay so she might be twisting the knife a little.]

No.

[ His voice is low and flat. He's done with this game. She's had her fun very much at his expense and he'll have no more of it, thanks; a wise man knows when to walk away. ]

I'm done. All right? You can waste someone else's time because we're finished here. You can go back to whatever little life you've carved out for yourself at the expense of whoever it is you're taking advantage of now, because I've got better things to do with my time than spend it here.

[ He doesn't. He really doesn't. But that's more than he's willing to admit to, even to himself. ]

No you don't. Otherwise you would have walked away.

Who says I'm not walking away?

[ He's lingering, yes, but not long. Just enough to make his point, that's all. ]

[She crosses her arms, and gives him a steady look.]

You aren't because I'm the only other person in the world who knows he wasn't a fraud.

[ His jaw sets stiffly. Definitely, definitely hating her right now. ]

Great lot of good that did us.

[Oh he'll hate her more if he realizes that she's deliberately not telling him his best friend is still alive.]

It certainly is not doing you any good. Unless you consider being angry at corpses a valuable use of your time.

[ God help her if he does. Thankfully for them both, he hasn't the slightest; he felt Sherlock's pulse that day and is still haunted by the lifeless stare of his eyes. ]

Do you get off on this, playing these little games? Is this all you ever do with your life?

You're not my type, Dr. Watson. [That smile is like a razor's edge.]

As to your question, I misbehave. It's actually quite a bit simpler once you're dead.

I'm not a genius detective or a madman criminal so no, I'd say I'm clearly not.

[ His tone matches the slicing edge of her smile, chin lifted as he fixes her with an unwavering glare. ]

I'm sure it is. It must be working out brilliantly for you. Congratulations, Miss Adler, on getting everything you wanted out of this arrangement.

[ Bitterness? Resentment? Just a bit. ]

If it had been everything, I'd have half the Commonwealth's treasury in my pocket.

[She crosses her arms.] Do let that bitter resentment out before you choke on it, John.

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