The Pirate's Return [OPEN]

[Sherlock Holmes]

Sherlock stood in front of his front door. Well, it used to be his front door. It was John's now, he supposed. He was supposed to be on his way to see Mycroft, but he didn't want to look as ragged and dirty as he was now. He knew for a fact that Mrs. Hudson was out shopping, and would be back at 4:00 pm. It was 3:00 pm right now, so he should have enough time. John however, was not to be expected to be in this apartment anymore. Of course, he came to visit his former landlady every Thursday at 2:35 pm for tea, but as today was a Monday, Sherlock was safe.

Seeing the door now, he saw that it had been repainted recently. Approximately six months ago. Thankfully, Mrs. Hudson hadn't thought of replacing the door nob and lock at the same time. That would have been a bit inconvenient. Rummaging through the pockets of his rather large sweater, he located his key. It hadn't been used in two years, and had become grimy. Forcing it in the keyhole, he unlocked the door and stepped inside quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed by the regulars at the coffee shop next door.

It seemed like the door was the only thing that had been renovated. The place was exactly as he had left it. The corners of the detective's lips pulled up slightly. Taking a deep breath, he went up the stairs and into his old apartment. Just as it had been when he'd... left. He rolled his eyes at John and Mrs.Hudson's nostalgia. "Honestly..." he muttered, but he felt a small warming in his chest.

He quickly crossed the threshold and went into his room taking out his clothes. He then took a shower, trying to remember the last time he had the luxury of doing this properly. Once he had gotten rid of the horrible sweat pants and hoodie and was in his black pants and purple shirt, he felt a little more like himself again. Walking into the living room, he started pacing. He had to reintroduce himself very carefully. Starting with Mycroft. Despite his displeasure at accepting his help, he needed his brother for a few things.

Because he was so deep in thought, he did not realize the time passing. He soon heard the door downstairs open and close, and Mrs. Hudson's usual humming. Feeling slightly panicked, he looked around for his blazer.  Seeing it on his chair, he grabbed it and threw it on. Running to where his coat had been hung, near the door, he put it on as well and peeked out the door. Truly, his senses had deteriorated, because none other than the one person who he was hiding from appeared in the door. The landlady's face turned frighteningly close to pure white and let out a blood curling scream.

His eyes widening, he snapped into action, his arms wrapping around her and his hand forcing her face into his shoulder. He didn't want to clamp her mouth shut with his hand, but he needed her to stop that noise. Anyone could hear it and come barging in. It would destroy his plans. Craning his neck to look outside then door, he felt the old woman start to shake in his arms. Once he was sure no one was coming, and that she'd finished shrieking, he loosened his hold on her and looked down, feeling a little guilty. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson." he murmured quietly, in a calming voice, "Now, I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I need you to stay quiet. Can you do that for me?" he slowly guided her to the couch and sat her down. He kept his arms around her, trying to keep her calm. "As long as you stay quiet, I'll answer any question you ask me. But you must promise not to be too loud..." When she nodded, he smiled lightly at her.

"S-sherlock? Is it... is it really you?" she whispered, her voice a shaky as the hand she reached up to touch her face. He was just about to answer when he heard the sound of the door opening and footsteps on the stairs. They were slow and careful. Someone had heard the scream.

[Guest]

Irene had heard the news of Sherlock arriving back to London and she was eager to see him. She honestly didn't know for how long she could put on with the charades of pretending he didn't exist for much longer, but she stayed patient. She had been waiting in her car, at the end of the road just waiting for something strange to happen. She knew that he'd probably want to visit John at some point.

When Sherlock had come into view, a smile curled upon Irene's lips as she patiently waited for him to enter his flat. Very quickly, she got out of her car when he had shut the door behind him. Now she had to wait for an appropriate opportunity to enter. The scream she heard made that quite easy though. She laughed lightly, shaking her head. How funny.

Inviting herself in, she sauntered up the stairs and kept a straight, yet satisfied expression across her face and her eyes fixed upon the disorganization. Despite Sherlock being missing, it seemed nothing had changed, most likely for sentimental purposes. When she walked through, she saw his face, and she flashed a sultry smile as she crossed her arms. Today, her hair was down, and her piercing blue eyes were accented with some eyeliner and red lipstick. She was wearing a red dress with a black cardigan.

"Hello," her voice was coy and full of satisfactory. "It's very nice to see you, darling." She took her coat off and set her purse down on the table and the sauntered over to him quickly with a crooked smile. She waited to see how he would react to her random showing up.

[Sherlock Holmes]

Don't worry, won't write this much every time, I just seem to have an excess of muse :P

He watched the woman come through door, frozen in place. Only his eyes following, he ignored Mrs. Hudson's questions. His jaw locked, and he tried not to look where she expected him to, as always. Her words thawed him out, and he returned to his usual calm demeanor.

"It's nice to see you too, Miss Adler." he replied politely as she walked over to him. His arms automatically withdrew from the small woman beside him, and he stood up, starting to walk around the room. He wanted to know how on earth she'd known he was alive... It was impossible; he'd taken every precaution not to be tracked, he'd planned his every move very carefully, and he'd told no one yet. So how was it that Irene had somehow found out? She didn't look remotely surprised, just happy to see him. Sentiment, he scoffed. But then again...

"How did you find me?" he demanded, "How did you even know I was still alive?" At that moment, the landlady had had enough. "SHERLOCK!" she yelled, loudly enough for him to wince. He didn't want anymore people coming. And he seemed to be developing a rather horrible headache again. Putting his fingers to his temples, he spoke in a quiet, muted voice. "Mrs. Hudson, I told you not to be loud..."

Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath. He felt exhausted. For two years he'd barely ate or slept. He may have had the Doctor by his side, but he refused his offers to stay in his phone box. "I'm sorry, dear. I'm just a little rattled, I suppose. But you promised me answers." she whispered, still looking at him as if he were a ghost. "How about you go downstairs and make yourself tea. I need to speak to Miss Adler." Before she could form a rebuke, he cut across her "Please, Mrs. Hudson. Just a few moments, then I'll be right with you." She must have seen his control slipping, because she just nodded and headed down the stairs.

Once she was gone, he sighed and sank into his chair by the fireplace. Leaning back, he spoke without looking at Irene. The way of dizziness and exhaustion had hit him quite suddenly. His caffeine reserve had run dry. "So?" he pressed the Woman in a tired voice. No matter his condition, he would have answers.

[Guest]

A smile still written across her face, Irene found herself in a bit of a daze just hearing his voice. "Two years," she spoke, both in astonishment and amusement. "How did you pull a trick like that, I wonder?" she tilted her head in ravishment. She moved closer to him when Mrs. Hudson had gone down stairs and sat down in front of Sherlock on the foot rest.

When he had asked her for answers, she paused for a moment, wondering if she should really tell him or not. She looked around for a moment, stalling as she tried to come up with an excuse, but then shrugged her shoulders forward with a sigh. "Does it really matter how I know? Let's just say a little birdy told me," her cheeky smile was followed by a snicker.

Oh, this was all too much fun. She kept her arms crossed in her lap as she continued to watch him, her eyes flashing flirtatiously at him. "This part of town has been so boring without you, sweetie. It's good to have you back," she smirked. "I can already tell you and I will have loads of fun."

[Sherlock Holmes]

"Not without difficulty..." he replied to her little comment on how he'd stayed hidden. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers together in front of his face. He heard her movement and felt her brush against his legs as she sat down in front of him. When she refused to give him a substantial answer, he sighed. "Why are you here?" he murmured.

"The town does tend to do that." he simply replied to her flirtatious comments. He bit his lip for a moment, hesitating. "How... how is John?" he asked quietly, a small pang of worry in his chest. He'd only been able to see him at a distance a few times. It had been a while since he'd watched him last. Sherlock had felt guilty from day one for causing the man any pain.

[Guest]

When Sherlock had asked why she was here, a smile curled upon her lips as she leaned forward, her hands resting on his legs as she got quite close to his face, a look of sultry painted across it as she continued to smile. "I'm here because you're here. I've waited a very long time to see you, Mr. Holmes."

Leaning back in her seat once more, she crossed her arms, simply watching him. She listened to what he had to say, but heard the hesitant tone in his voice as he then asked how John was. She raised an eyebrow. She didn't really keep tabs on John, but she did know a little.


"Happily married, he is," she nodded. "Still comes around this place though, when he wants some alone time," she shrugged.

[Sherlock Holmes]

Her explanation for why she was there made him chuckle a little. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. It was a necessary precaution." he mumured in soft baritones. He patted her hand, trying not to feel uncomfortable with the intimate touch.

"Married?" he choked slightly on the word, his eyes snapping open to look at her in shock. He knew he hadn't watched John in a while, but that was extreme. How could he have missed a wedding? His brow puckered slightly. "He'll never forgive me..." he sighed in disappointement.

[Guest]

"Oh, don't worry, darling, I made sure to keep entertained while I waited..." she winked while she leaned back in her seat, smiling coyly at him. Seeing his reaction as to John getting married made her stifle a giggle as she shook her head. "Oh, Sherlock, you were terrible when it came to keeping up with social affairs..."

She made an entire scenario in her head of what might happen if he were to explain everything to Watson. She laughed at the thought of him being incredibly upset with Sherlock. Oh the boys fighting was classic to her. "Well, love, I'm sure that he'll forgive you if you try really hard. And beg on your knees maybe," she shrugged.

[Sherlock Holmes]

"Social affairs are boring..." He complained. He shifted in his seat and rolled his eyes. Why John thought it necessary to attend them, he'd never understand. When Irene spoke again, he frowned "I thought I already told you, I don't beg." he smirked "You however, well, that's a different story, now isn't it?"

He chuckled a bit at his joke, and then stopped. Since when did he do that? Blinking a few times, he realized that his return was more vital than he had originally thought. "Oh, dear lord," he exclaimed, slightly horrified, "I'm becoming average." He shuddered. No, that wouldn't happen.

[Guest]

When he said that he didn't beg, Irene rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm sure I could get you to beg at some point," she shifted her eyes to his coyly. His next comment though, she did not expect. Her smile curled into a large sultry grin as she let out a small snicker.

"Well, well, Mr. Holmes, what in the world has gotten into you?" she tilted her head to the side as she leaned forward a bit. "I only beg when I'm desperate. So if I ever beg, you'll know I mean business," she winked.

[Sherlock Holmes]

"I've never begged in my whole life. I thought I told you that once before." he said with his his eyebrows raised. He rolled his eyes at her words about his change. As if he had to be more annoyed by this. "So you meant business when you begging me to save you?" he smirked, getting up to go make tea.

Looking around the kitchen, he couldn't find any tea sachets. "Where the hell did all the tea go?" He opened the fridge, and , finding nothing in it, slams the door. "Where the hell did all the food go?"

[Guest]

"Like I said, I only beg when I'm desperate," she sneered as she then noticed that he would get up to look for food. Sitting up herself, she fixed her hair and waited to see what he would do or get. Upon hearing his complaints about there being no food, she laughed lightly.

"No one has been living here really, although John comes on occasion," she shrugged before looking out the window. "How about you come with me to grab some lunch?" she flashed another smile at him. Whether he said yes or no, she was going to make him come with her either way.

[Sherlock Holmes]

Sighing in exasperation, he nodded his assent. "I hope you aren't expecting me to pay, though, I haven't had any money for two years now." he muttered, pulling his scarf around his neck. Oh, it felt good to be wearing actual clothes again. Putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly.

He held the door open and looked at Irene, "After you, Miss Adler."

[Guest]

Hearing of how she'd be paying, she gave no change in her smile. "Fine by me. I have money for it," she spoke softly as she passed him by, sauntering out of the door when he had opened the door for her. She gave a cheeky smile as she waited for him to exit as well. "So where were you thinking of eating? Speedy's? Or somewhere else?"

[Sherlock Holmes]

Thinking about it for a moment, he shook his head, following her out the door. "No, someone might recognize me. We should go somewhere I would be unlikely to be seen." He murmured, falling in step with her. He sighed. Staying hidden was getting harder and harder by the minute. Unfortunately his stomach didn't exactly care.

Ignoring the churning in his belly, he looked at Irene. "Do you know of such a place?"

[Guest]

Where could they go where he wouldn't be recognized? His death was a pretty big dilemma within London, so anywhere they'd go, someone would know who he is. "Hmm...." mumbling to herself as she pondered, she looked around for a moment and lead him toward her car.

"Well," she started, thinking about it. "We could go to my place. It's private. Just me and my cat," she smiled and winked. "I know how to cook pretty well, so don't expect it to be poisonous. And that way, I don't have to buy so much food."

[Sherlock Holmes]

He waited patiently as she thought of somewhere they could go. When she suggested her house, he nodded. "Who mentioned anything about poison?" he asked, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. "Are you going to try to kill me, Miss Adler?"

[Guest]

"Now, now," Irene began. "Why in the world would I be trying to kill you? You've only just been revived," she winked as she led him to her car. Upon entering it, she took a deep breath before beginning to drive toward her home. "Besides... if I really were poisoning you, it would simply be to put you to sleep so I could do disgraceful things to you."

Laughing at the thought, she continued to drive toward her home until she had finally gotten there, not saying a word. When she parked in front of her home, she took a deep breath, a look of dread coming over her. Turning to him slowly, she gave him a look of sorrow. "You know... I never thanked you for helping me with the execution thing... I'm sorry."

[Sherlock Holmes]

Getting into the car, he tried not to think too much after her comment on what she would do if she ever did poison him. Knowing Irene, it would probably be something extreme. Blinking a few times, his mind started thinking of all the possibilities. Every option he thought up made his frown deepen.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by Irene's next words. Looking around, he realized that the car had stopped. He turned to see her sad expression. "Why are you sorry? You had to go into hiding, and I jumped off a building. Not exactly anyone's fault."

[Guest]

When she had gotten herself out of the car, she waited for Sherlock to follow her into her home. Locking the gates behind her, she had to take extra care nowadays to make sure no one knew exactly where it was she lived. She sighed as she looked around before responding to Sherlock.

"Things have become more difficult. While you're trying to figure out how to 'come back from the dead', I'm continuing to hide until my name is in the clear. I would not have gotten through it without you though," she said with a nod before unlocking her door and letting him inside. Locking the door behind her, she turned to him with a curious gaze. "What are you hungry for?" she smirked. "You're finally joining me for dinner."

[Sherlock Holmes]

He followed her out the car and into the grounds, waiting for her as she locked the gates behind them. He listened intently as she spoke, his head cocking to one side. "Yes, I expect your situation wouldn't be the easiest. But I only help a little bit. After all, saving you from being beheaded was the least I could do after unlocking your "life", as you called it." he said, walking through the door.

When she asked him what he was hungry for, he felt his stomach growl painfully. Wincing slightly, he muttered softly, "Anything, Miss Adler. I have no preference at the present moment."

[Guest]

When he had said he was hungry for anything, Irene nodded as her lips curled back into a smirk as she took her coat off. "Alright. Make yourself at home. I'll be cooking something up in the kitchen," she nodded as she sauntered off through the door toward the kitchen.

She had decided to make some shrimp alfredo. It was her absolute favorite, although she wasn't sure if Sherlock liked seafood, so she made some chicken as well. When she had finished, she set it on the dining room table before calling out that it was ready. "It's all done. Come on in." she sat down, giving herself a plate.

[Sherlock Holmes]

He nodded when she told him to make himself comfortable. Taking his coat and scarf off, he walked into what looked like a living room while she went off to cook. He sat down and tried not to think of the smell coming from the kitchen. He started doing complicated equations, picturing them in front of him. It worked for about 20 seconds, but he solved the problem quickly, and the smell of food distracted him.

When she called that it was ready, he all ran to the room she was in. His eyes focused on the food on the table, but he walked over to a chair next to Irene calmly and sat. He drummed his fingers on his lap, eyeing the food but staying still.

[Guest]

Seeing that he was trying to be polite, she laughed lightly. "Here," she said quietly as she served him up a plate and passed it to him quickly. "You don't need manners here. Eat up," she said quickly as she began to eat, herself. For a long quiet moment, the only thing that was triumphantly banging in her head was that they were finally having dinner together.

It only took him a fake death. Shaking the thoughts quickly, she took a deep breath before sipping at her glass of ice water. "So why did you do it?" she finally asked. "Why fake your death?"

[Sherlock Holmes]

When she served him some food, he began eating immediately. The food was absolutely delicious, compared to what he'd been eating while he was gone. He'd forgotten how good food could be. Glancing up once at Irene, he saw that she had a rather smug look on her face, probably due to the fact that she had finally convinced him to eat dinner with her.

When she spoke, he swallowed quickly, wiping his mouth on his napkin. "Well... It was either I died, or my... colleagues did." he murmured, eyes staying firmly planted on his plate. He felt a slight heat rushing to his cheeks and ears. Cursing his human form, he dared not to look back up at Irene.

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