Chapter IV. - Good Idea Indeed?

The smell of that special perfume told Sherlock that she was back, but he didn't raise to greet her. It was too early for it. He just sat in John's chair, glaring out of the window, looking for answers and his consciousness. Why did he allow John to convince him? Why did he let the Woman come again in his life? Why was she so special he had to care? He didn't know. It was only the fact that Irene Adler would live in that house, next to him and John, probably with them. Why was it so difficult to accept?
'I don't want to disturb you.' the well-known voice said from the doorway. 'I know you have a comfortable life here with Doctor Watson which I don't want to interfere with. I will be invisible –' she sighed 'as much as possible. It is my only chance and I don't want to play it over. If I lose your good  intention I will not gain anyone else's so I'll do my best and try not to misbehave.' she stepped to the  chair. 'My life depends on you, and I trust you.' she looked at his cold face. Sherlock seemed not to hear anything, but when she turned and paced to the window, his eyes followed her steps and he let his hands fall in his lap. He narrowed his eyes and searched her cautiously.
'Why me?' he asked at last. The Woman spinned around and looked at him with interested eyes.
'Why you?' she repeated his question.
'Yes, why me? I'm sure you have plenty of hiding places, you could go there with your little girlfriend, wait till Moriarty's interest turns elsewhere and then leave the country. Why did you come to me? You won't feed me you trust me better than her.'
'No.' Irene's face was cold now 'But you're much smarter than her, and you know Moriarty. You know his methods, you can read his mind: you know how to mislead him. Plus, he doesn't expect me to come here, after all. And, you're the only one who knows I'm not dead, so how could I go and live along with Kate? I wouldn't be able to leave my room. That's not going to happen. And, after all, all my lairs are watched, aren't they? As I told you: Moriarty knows more about me than I do. If my hiding place will be discovered, Kate would be the first one killed. I wouldn't risk her life. I suppose you understand that – after all, John's life was on risk several times because of you, and you never liked it, did you? Oh, I saw the record Moriarty made at the pool. This was his first lesson about you and your big brother: catch John Watson and Sherlock Holmes will be caught. Catch Sherlock Holmes, and the British Government will be caught. He knows more about you than you think.' she finished her sentence and sat down on the sofa. 'He's smarter than you think. He'll be back for you, you'll see. You gained his attention – and he never lets his attention lost on interesting things.' she shook her head. Sherlock sat silently in John's chair under her speech, but this sentence made him to narrow his eyes.
'What is so interesting in you, Miss Irene Adler? Why does everyone look for you, even when you're dead?' he searched her constantly. She sighed and sat back on the sofa.
'It seems I cannot sit on my ass – 'xcuse me. I think I'm sick to death with the deal but no one let me just be. You know, I'd gladly give everything up just to feel safe again.' she sighed. 'Being hunted is the most wearing thing I've ever come to know.' she rubbed her brow with her right hand, the left hanging on her side without life. She seemed weary indeed, as Sherlock noticed right at the beginning of her speech. He looked at her with keen eyes, but told gently
'Lay down in my room. It seems it would be yours for a time, so make yourself at home.' he nodded towards his room.
'I'm perfectly capable with the sitting-room, thank you.' she sat up and searched his eyes.
'I have to greet my clients and I can't do it with a dead woman on my sofa. So please, take my room.' he rather commanded than asked – and she nodded as for accepting the order.
'Thank you.' she stood up. 'I wish I could repay it, but I don't know how. Please, if I can help you anyhow, let me know.' she said with great earnest. Sherlock did not look at her just nodded of understand. She sighed and turned and paced towards his room.
It was near to seven when John hurried down the stairs and in the sitting-room. He slowed down when entering the room and looked around with keen interest.
'Did she come back?' he asked with bent brows. Sherlock nodded quietly.
'So, where is she?' John asked frowning harder.
'In my room.' he said not changing his position in John's chair.
'In your room, I see.' John face went annoyed from serious. 'And what exactly is she doing there?' he turned to Sherlock harshly. His friend did not move still.
'Sleeping, most likely.' he told.
'Sleeping.' John nodded. 'Of course.' he put his hands on his hips. 'And it will be so henceforth? She'll be in your room, sleeping and clothing and whatever the women does when alone, and you'll sit here glaring out of the windows and at the ceiling like a machine left switched on?' he said annoyed. Sherlock pulled up one of his eyebrows and looked at him with interest.
'I thought you wanted her to stay. What did you think – that she'll sit here and I'll be in my room sleeping? Don't be ridiculous, John. She needed a hiding place, not a passage-way. What if Mycroft comes at short notice and finds her here on my sofa? We don't want a scandal.'
'Nope, you're right. But maybe I thought about this protecting thing, and possibly I was wrong. She's a criminal after all, and what's more: a dead one. I don't know how could we hide her for more than a few days.' he shook his head. Sherlock made a mouth and turned away to stare at the windows again.
'She's more clever than you think. She can keep quiet. Very quiet, if she wants.' he blinked at the doctor and saw confusion on his bent brows. He lapsed into a smile. 'C'mon John, we did live through a day with her in the flat once ago, we can do it again. Just... ignore her.' he waved and his friend rolled his eyes.
'Ignore her...' he whispered and turned to the stairs.
'Now where are you going?' Sherlock frowned.
'Out. I'll have dinner with Martha. I'll be late, don't wait me up!' he shouted back while descending the stairs. Sherlock frowned but did not asked anything else. He heard the door closing, but it was the last thing he grabbed from the outer world for a long time.