(Alice’s POV: )

 Very shortly afterwards Sherlock had taken off his coat and was sitting on a sofa in the elegant sitting room and looking around with me by his side, gradually dropping my character. As we heard footsteps approaching, he sat up a little and held the handkerchief to his cheek and I returned to character as well.

 “Hello. Sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.” A woman or, most likely, the woman said.

 “I’m so sorry. I’m...” Sherlock began, but as he turned and looked at Miss Irene Adler as she came in, stopping at the doorway, his voice failed him. That surprised me so I turned to her, and as soon as I saw her, I understood. With the exception of high-heels, she was stark naked. Sherlock’s jaw dropped a little and I immediately looked away, dropping my character permanently, sitting up straight, and moving my hand from Sherlock’s back.

 “Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright, isn’t it?” Irene said, walking into the room and standing directly in front of him, straddling his legs and half-kneeling on the sofa, then reaching forward and pulling the white plastic dog collar from his shirt collar. “There now – we’re both defrocked...” She said, satisfied and smiling down at him. “...Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” I looked at the doorway and anywhere but the two.

 “Miss Adler, I presume.” Sherlock said in his normal voice.

 “Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?” Irene said, looking down at his face. I caught her glancing at me and completely turned my head in the other direction. “Don’t worry, my dear. You will have yours.” Irene said to me. I clenched my fists. Narrowing her eyes, she lifted the white plastic to her mouth and bit down on it. As Sherlock stared up at her in confusion, John walked into the room carrying a bowl of water and a fabric napkin. His eyes were lowered to the bowl to avoid spilling its contents.

 “Right, this should do it.” John said as he entered. He stopped dead in the doorway as he lifted his eyes and saw the scene in front of him. Irene looked round to him, the plastic still in her teeth. John looked at her awkwardly, then down at the bowl before looking up again. I gave him an apologetic look. “I’ve missed something, haven’t I?” He sighed. Irene took the plastic from her teeth.

 “Please, sit down.” She offered. She stepped back from Sherlock, who fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa as she walked away. I breathed out slowly and loudly, facing Sherlock again. “Oh, if you’d like some tea I can call the maid.” She added.

 “We had some at the Palace.” Sherlock said, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

 “I know.” Irene said flirtatiously. She sat down in a nearby armchair and crossed her legs, folding her arms gracefully to obscure the view of her chest. I almost smiled in relief.

 “Clearly.” Sherlock said. Irene turned her eyes to me, smiling and looking me up and down. I looked at John. Sherlock and Irene stared silently at each other for several seconds, weighing each other up. John looked at them awkwardly.

 “I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone’s interested.” John said sadly, feeling very much left out. Sherlock’s eyes were still fixed on Irene as he attempted to make as many deductions as he could about her. He had nothing, as did I. I had already tried as soon as she walked in to get it over with. Bewildered, he turned and looked at John and started to analyse him. Looking at his neckline; two day shirt. Looking at his lower face; electric not blade. Looking at the bottom of his jeans and his shoes; date tonight. John frowned as Sherlock continued to gaze at him. Looking at his right eyebrow; hadn’t phoned sister. Looking at his lower lip; new toothbrush. Looking just underneath his eyes; night out with Stamford. Relieved that he hadn’t had a brain embolism, Sherlock slowly turned his head and looked at Irene again. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he applied all his deductive reasoning as she smiled confidently back at him, and he still couldn’t pick up on anything. He frowned.

 “D’you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes?” Irene asked. He quirked an eyebrow at her, I found that slightly attractive. I shook my head slightly. Irene was rubbing off on me and I had just met her. I frowned. “However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.” She told us.

 “You think I’m a vicar with a bleeding face?” Sherlock questioned. I sighed.

 “No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it’s yourself.” She said smugly. Finally fed up with the tightness of his shirt, Sherlock started unbuttoning the top two buttons. Irene leaned forward and I looked away, wanting to button my shirt up one or two.

“Oh, and somebody loves you. Why, if I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.” Irene said, suggesting John was... attracted to Sherlock. She glanced across to John momentarily. John forced a laugh. I was getting very irritated at her.

 “Could you put something on, please? Er, anything at all.” John asked. He looked down at what he was holding. “A napkin.” He offered.

 “Why? Are you feeling exposed?” She asked.

 “I don’t think John knows where to look.” I said, standing up and picking up Sherlocks coat, shaking it out and holding it out to Irene. Ignoring me for the moment, she stood up and walked closer to John, who rolled his head on his neck uncomfortably and forced himself to maintain eye contact with her and not to let his eyes wander lower.

 “No, I think he knows exactly where.” She said. She turned to me, still holding out the coat while steadfastly keeping my gaze averted. Sherlock was keeping his eyes on me. “I’m not sure about you two.” She added, taking the coat from me.

 “If I wanted to look at naked women I’d borrow John’s laptop.” Sherlock said.

 “You do borrow my laptop.” John said, looking to his friend.

 “He confiscates it.” I corrected. Sherlock walked over to the fireplace opposite the sofa, where I stayed.

 “Well, never mind. We’ve got better things to talk about. Now tell me – I need to know.” Irene said, wrapping the coat around her. She walked over to the sofa and sat down next to me. I sat up straight and put a fist on either thigh uncomfortably.  “How was it done?” Irene tested.

 “What?” Sherlock asked.

 “The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?” Irene clarified, taking her shoes off. The boys looked confused and I was just trying to not interrupt what was meant for Sherlock and John. “Oh, you too, Alice dear. You’re included in this.” Irene added, glancing at me. I sighed.

 “That’s not why I-we’re here.” Sherlock said.

 “No, no, no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never gonna happen, and since we’re here just chatting anyway...” Irene trailed off.

 “That story’s not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?” John asked.

 “I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes.” Irene said, correcting herself. I sighed and stood up quickly, walking to the chair to my left.

 “Oh.” John said quietly. He sat down beside her. “And you like policemen?” John questioned.

 “I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy’s the new sexy.” Irene said, looking at both Sherlock and I. I rubbed my temples.

 “Positionofthecar...” Sherlock said quickly and incoherently.  John and I turned our heads and stared at him as he pulled himself together. I was visibly surprised at his... lost composure.

 “Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That’s all you need to know.” Sherlock said, beginning to pace slowly.

 “Okay, tell me: how was he murdered?” Irene asked.

 “He wasn’t.” I said. She turned her head to me.

 “You don’t think it was murder?” She questioned, a hint of amusement in her voice.

 “I know it wasn’t.” Sherlock corrected.

 “How?”

 “The same way that we know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs we’re looking for are in this room.” Sherlock explained, making sure to say ‘we’.

 “Okay, but how?” Irene repeated.

 “So they are in this room. Thank you.” I said happily, wanting nothing more but to irritate her at that moment.  

 “John, man the door. Let no-one in.” Sherlock commanded. The two of them exchanged a significant look, then John got up and put the bowl and napkin on a table before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. When he left Irene sat up straighter, looking suspiciously at the closed door. I got up and went behind Sherlock and looked closely at the mantelpiece.

 “Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car.” I said. Sherlock began to pace again.

 “Oh. I – I thought you were looking for the photos now.” Irene said, looking at me suspiciously.

 “No, no. Looking takes ages. I’m just going to find them but you’re moderately clever and we’ve got a moment, so let’s pass the time.” Sherlock corrected once again, stopping and turning to her. I looked away from the mantle too and held my hands behind my back and looked at her.

 “Two men, a car, and nobody else.” I said, thinking I sounded clever. Sherlock squatted down and I knew he was in a mental map of the crime scene. I did the same, but without moving. I was fairly sure he was squatting down next to the driver’s door of Phil’s car.

 “The driver’s trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere.” Sherlock said. Straightening up, he turned and looked into the area where the field would be.

 “And the hiker’s taking a moment, looking at the sky.” I continued. Sherlock was now picturing the hiker and was down, circling where he had stood. “Watching the birds?” Sherlock offered sarcastically. We both looked purposefully doubtful.

 “Any moment now, something’s gonna happen. What?” Sherlock asked.

 “The hiker’s going to die.” Irene said, as if it was obvious.

 “No, that’s the result. What’s going to happen?” Sherlock repeated.

 “I don’t understand.” Irene said simply.

 “Oh, well, try to.” I said unhappily. I shifted my weight to my right foot and folded my arms.

 “Why?” She asked.

 “Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring us and think. It’s the new sexy.” I said sarcastically.

 “The car’s going to backfire.” She said flatly. I had hoped I upset her.

 “There’s going to be a loud noise.” Sherlock said, more or less agreeing with her.

 “So, what?” She asked.

 “Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance...” Sherlock argued, trailing off. After leaving his mental map, he paused dramatically and a moment later a smoke alarm started to beep insistently from the hall. Irene turned and looked at the large mirror over the fireplace. Sherlock and I turned our heads and followed her gaze.

 “Thank you. On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.” Sherlock explained. He walked over to the fireplace and began running his fingers underneath the mantelpiece. Finding a switch under there, he pressed it and the mirror slid upwards, revealing a small wall safe behind it. Sherlock turned and looked at Irene as she stood up.

 “Really hope you don’t have a baby in here.” I said, smirking and moving behind Sherlock to his right.

 “All right, John, you can turn it off now.” Sherlock called out. “I said you can turn it off now.” Sherlock repeated after it continued.

 “Give me a minute.” John replied. The beeping stopped after a moment. Sherlock looked closely at the number pad on the front of the safe with me.

 “Hmm. Should always use gloves with these things, you know. Heaviest oil deposit’s always on the first key used – that’s quite clearly the three – but after that the sequence is almost impossible to read. I’d say from the make that it’s a six digit code. Can’t be your birthday – no disrespect but clearly you were born in the eighties; the eight’s barely used so...” Sherlock said. It was long enough to seem as though he was rambling but it all made perfect sense. I smiled at his ability to do that.

 “I’d tell you the code right now but you know what? I already have.” She teased. I shot my head around to her and studied her face intently.  Sherlock frowned at her. “Think.” Irene said smugly.

And 2 chapter day! Hehe, kidding =3 Anyway... vote, comment and enjoy, fun peoples!! =)