It was a new smell, a fragrance, which made Sherlock open his eyes hours later. He bend his brows – the parfume was very familiar to him, however he could not place it. Mrs Hudson used Chanel, but it was an other mark – he rapidly ran to the door labelled “Parfume Trades” and entered it: Chanel, Dior, Dolce&Gabbana, Giorgio Armani, Gucci, Lacoste, Lancôme – Lancôme. His eyes swung open and his face lapsed into a smirk.
'Very interesting how a woman's parfume tells about her wearer. Lancôme: Hypnose – even the name speaks.' he sat up. 'Good morning, Miss Adler.' he searched the room for the newcomer, and found her standing in the doorway at last.
'Good morning, Mr Holmes – however it is four o'clock in the afternoon in the world.' she smiled at him coquettishly. Sherlock frowned and turned his head confused.
'Obviously...' he murmured.
'May I sit down? Oh, don't bother with standing up, I know the place by myself.' she waved him back to his chair, and paced to the sofa leisurely. When she sat down, her eyes got fixed on him and his on her; they sat with a tense attention, searching each other after so many dumb month. After a couple of minuits the Woman lapsed into a true smile, and sat back on the sofa.
'It is good to see you again, Sherlock, I almost forgot the shape of your edgy cheekbones.' she flirted, but got no reaction from him. She watched him with a great interest again, searching his narrowed eyes, looking for any clue how he felt about her presence – and got nowhere. With a noting hum she leaned forward again and looked deep into his eyes.
'I need your help.' she told.
'Why?' Sherlock asked straight away.
'I have to hide.' she waved sloppily.
'Why?' Sherlock frowned harder. She sighed and rolled her eyes wearily.
'They want me dead.' she shrugged.
'You are dead.' the detective searched her closely. She exhaled annoyed.
'Yes, for the rest of the world. But he knows. He knows everything.' Her face went dark, very serious, like she was worried about what she said. And she was, Sherlock could see – for a moment he was alarmed too. He straightened, stood up and paced to the window his hands clapsed behind his back.
'Why does he want you dead?' he asked in a serious voice.
'I kept something from him.' she dropped her eyes and began to play with her dress.
'What?'
'Something he wants.' she said annoyed.
'Obviously, but what?' he turned to face her again.
'A thing.'
'I guess a data storage.' he narrowed his eyes again. Her lips parted to say something, but the astonishment took the words from her tongue.
'How do you know?' she ejaculated after a moment.
'Morning paper, my brother in my flat – you can choose.' the detective shrugged and paced towards the kitchen. 'Tea?' he asked with pulled-up eyebrows.
'Yes, please.' the woman said still in a surprised voice. When she heard the water flowing, she sighed and stood up.
'I've always known you were a good observer but never utilized it properly. How easier my life would've been...' she stepped in the doorway to look at the detective's unchanged face.
'Why does Moriarty want information about a british governor's personal life?' he asked while filling the water in the kettle.
'Obviously for blackmailing, but I don't know anything closer.' she shrugged.
'Blackmailing, it is plain. But who?' he looked in her eyes. She hardened her face and thought if she should answer the question or not, but at the end she sighed and told him:
'The governor, of course. But he was swifter and killed the deliverer - I would know the rest of it if your dear brother's people would've not collected and queried me. I had to invent a cover story swiftly, but they held me for an hour or so, and when I was free again, the fellow was dead already. I do not know anything about the pendrive after that.' she finished her story and paced back to the sofa and lumped down.
'Then why's Moriarty after you and not the pendrive?' Sherlock bent his brows thinking.
'It fits him, doesn'it?' she smiled but then sighed 'He wants me dead. I know too much about the data storage, and I know to much about him after our last buisness, and he knows I can play him false – which I did last night, and he knows it. I'm rather in his way now than being his puppet.' her smile was rather sad now. Sherlock filled the teatop and carried it in the sitting-room with two cups.
'And how can I help you?' he asked seriously. 'I'm not in the position to rain him, so why have you come to me?' he sat down in his armchair again. She hesitated for a moment, but then braced up to say
'Give me safety.' she sat back in the sofa. Sherlock frowned astonished.
'Safety? How?' he asked.
'Let me stay here. For a while. For a couple of months till I figure it out how to mislead him. I can't die again.'
'Obviously.' Sherlock made his thinking face.
'So?' the Woman pulled up her eyebrows when he gave no response after a minuit. Sherlock shook up from his thoughts and said confused 'So what?'
'Can I stay?' she asked. Sherlock frowned again and murmured
'John will be annoyed.'
'To the hell with John Watson!' she pealed.
'Say it again and I give you to Moriarty by myself.' Sherlock said coolly.
'Sorry.' she calmed. 'I always forget how close you two are.'
'We aren't a couple.' he remembered her.
'Of course you're not, darling, who said that?' she rolled her eyes. Sherlock gave her a frown.
'Don't be alarmed, I was joking.'
'Joking?' he frowned harder.
'I can if I want.' she shrugged.
'Don't be ridiculous.'
'Right.' she sighed. 'Back to the case. The tea has to be ready.' she remarked, and Sherlock reached for the pot and filled a cup for her and himself. For a minuit they sat in silence, holding their cups and sipping the tea.
'No.' Sherlock cut off the silence abruptly.
'Sorry – what?' the Woman frowned.
'I said no. You cannot stay.' he repeated himself coldly.
'No?' she bent his brows.
'As I said.' he put the cup down on the tea-saucer. When he noticed the alarmed frown at her face he bent his brows too. 'What – did you expect I'd let Brtitain's best blackmailer living in my room?' he snorted.
'I do not blackmail.' she remembered him.
'You've got everything to it.'
'Possibly, but I do not blackmail. You know it.' she said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
'Maybe.' he nodded 'But no. You cannot stay.'
She halted for a moment then pu down her cup and stood up pridefully.
'Alright then. Goodbye, Mr. Holmes.' she took her clutch and hurried towards the stairs, where she bumped into John who came upwards with a bag of groceries.
'Doctor Watson.' she nodded to him but passed by fuming. He turned after her confused.
'Sherlock!' he called out when he saw the shape exiting the door. He heard a quiet hum from the sitting room.
'It was... wasn't it?...'
'Miss Adler. Yes.' his friend affirmed.
'She seemed annoyed.' John paced up the stairs.
'I suppose, yes.' Sherlock answered deep in thought.
'Why was she here?' John frowned packing down the groceries in the kitchen.
'She asked to stay here.' Sherlock answered still cogitatively.
'Stay?!' John ejaculated and stopped with everything he made.
'Yes, John.'
'I suppose you said 'no'.' he said after a pause.
'You're skills in deduction are increasing rapidly.' Sherlock rolled his eyes. John sighed.
'Why did she want to stay?' he asked unconcernedly while proceeding to pack the groceries in the fridge. Sherlock frowned.
'I suppose... she's afraid...' he lost in his thoughts again.
'Afraid?! That woman?! What of?' John got serious.
'Moriarty.'
'Mor...' John shook his head. 'Why's she afraid of him? I thought they were playmates.'
'They were. But if daddy goes angry the children must hide.'
'And you said 'no'?'
'I did.' Sherlock said self-assured.
'You should've asked me at least.' John frowned. 'What if that man finds her leaving from us and kills her? Did you think about it?!' he raised his voice. Sherlock blinked at him frowning and halted for a moment.
'Why should I? I'm not her caretaker.' he shrugged.
'Seven hells, Sherlock! If she's flying from Moriarty, maybe she deserves some caring!'
'Caring?' the detective frowned.
'Yes, Sherlock, whatever it means to you. Call her. Tell her to come back. You can't be so cold...'
Sherlock's furrows on his brow went deeper.
'You want her to stay?'
'Sherlock for God's sake, she's flying from Moriarty! That man is the devil himself, we have to protect her – whatever that means on our life...' he added with a hint of despair.
'You think so?' Sherlock asked confused.
'Yes!' John shouted.
'Alright...' the detective breathed. He reached for his phone inassured. He hit the screen slowly.
«John wants you back. You can stay»
He hit the 'Send' button and sat back in his aarmchair with his hands under his chin. He breathed without a sound till the common 'Ahh' sound told him of the incoming message. He reached for his phone and read the text carefully.
«I began to like him. Thank you.»
She wrote slowly. John stood in the doorway between the room and the kitchen his arms crossed.
'So?' he pulled up his eyebrows.
'She's coming back.' said Sherlock still inassured.
'Good. I began to think she's brighter than you.' he turned and paced to the stairs.
'Do you think it's a good idea?' asked the detective not facing him. John halted and sighed. He turned back to look at his friend and saw the inassurance on his face – and began to worry.
'No.' he said honestly. 'But I think we don't have any chance. She needs protection.'
He didn't expected any answer from him. John knew he wanted a time to think before she got back. He sighed and paced towards his room, up the stairs. What would this situation bring forth... he thought desperately. But he ment what he said. They had to protect that woman. Whatever who she was. Whatever who she was to Sherlock.