A/N - The tension rises - will Elizabeth and Sherlock's relationship be okay?

Minor warning, bad language used but again Idk how many of you really need to be bothered by that  😂

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It was a very, very quiet drive to Mycroft's mansion. Mycroft sat in the passenger seat while the other three sat at the back.

The older Holmes looked out of the window, quietly displeased with the fact that Irene had seemingly succeeded with her little plan and Elizabeth had broken the terms of her house arrest. He always knew this would happen though. Perhaps she was still in contact with Moriarty somehow? Perhaps she was scouting for information? Although, he struggled to see how the fact that their project had been cancelled would be decent enough information to want to overhear.

Sherlock, Irene and Elizabeth sat in the back, with Irene in the middle this time.

Sherlock couldn't look at Irene and consequently Elizabeth as well. His head rested on his hand as he, too, stared at the moving scenery outside. How could he have been so stupid? How could his fondness of The Woman blinded him so blatantly and yet unknowingly? What did Elizabeth think of him now? What if Elizabeth would end up pulling the same trick on him as Irene? No. Elizabeth wouldn't do that, he thought. She was too far gone on their side to even attempt getting Moriarty to take her back. Her burnt flat was enough evidence of that.

Irene felt uncomfortable with the tension for once in her life. She was always used to causing tension but this felt different. This atmosphere was chaotic - and not sexually - a ticking time-bomb just waiting to go off. She had put a wedge between Elizabeth and Sherlock, emotionally and literally given where she was sat. And she knew Mycroft wouldn't exactly be impressed with Elizabeth having followed her unaccompanied. She was never meant to follow.

Elizabeth just played with the silver ring on her finger. She was quietly terrified about what the outcome of tonight would be having felt the holes burned into her by Mycroft's gaze. She had no clue where Irene would lead her - it was just unfortunate that it led her right to Mycroft. While scared, she was also confused. She had no idea what she had walked into on the plane. What she did know is that Sherlock had looked abnormally shaken and she didn't think that it was caused by her arrival, rather by something said beforehand.

Elizabeth would ask but she felt too threatened by the silence to speak.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

They arrived at Mycroft's mansion relatively faster than normal considering the lack of traffic in the evening. Sherlock, Irene and Elizabeth were ushered inside by Mycroft, who tended to stay nearer to Elizabeth as though worried she would try to steal something else.

He brought them into his living room, where once he had sat down with Sherlock and John to discuss the Kelly case.

Sherlock went straight for the chair by the fireplace, Mycroft directed Elizabeth to the other and he and the Dominatrix went to sit at the dark oak table.

Again the four sat in the quiet, not daring to speak.

Elizabeth frowned as she watched Sherlock stare at the fire, as though entranced by the burning wood. For once, she saw him fidget absentmindedly, his one hand dancing on his leg while the other twitched. He looked perturbed. What had happened before she had arrived? She wanted to ask, but her words refused to make themselves known.

As this happened, Mycroft had taken The Woman's phone (of which he had confiscated before they left the airport) out of his pocket, placing it on the table in front of him. He rested his forehead on his fingers as he stared down the device which allegedly held knowledge that could 'topple his whole world'.

If only Sherlock hadn't been so taken with her.

"We have people who can get into this." Mycroft finally spoke, tapping the phone as he looked at Irene.

"I tested that theory for you." The Dominatrix smirked triumphantly, "I let Sherlock Holmes try it for six months. Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you x-rayed my camera phone."

"There are four additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive. Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive." He spoke robotically in response, still not sharing a look with Elizabeth.

"Explosive." Irene confirmed, "It's more me."

"Some data is always recoverable." Mycroft said.

"Take that risk." Irene challenged.

"You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you."

Elizabeth watched as Sherlock rolled his eyes at Mycroft's threat. Of course Irene had catered for that scenario also. Why wouldn't she?

"Sherlock." Irene gave him the floor.

"There will be two passcodes: one to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress you can’t know which one she’s given you and there will be no point in a second attempt."

"He’s good, isn’t he?" Irene's gaze practically feasted upon Sherlock's form, "I should have him on a leash – in fact, I might."

Elizabeth scowled at The Woman for this. There was no hint of remorse in her look though as she looked back to Mycroft.

"We destroy this, then." Mycroft decided, "No-one has the information."

"Fine. Good idea...unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you’re about to burn."

"Are there?"

"Telling you would be playing fair. I’m not playing any more." She opened her purse and took out an envelope, sliding it to Mycroft across the table, "A list of my requests; and some ideas about my protection once they’re granted. I’d say it wouldn’t blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation – but then I’d be lying...I imagine you’d like to sleep on it."

Mycroft's brow raised as he glimpsed the list of requests, "Thank you, yes."

"Too bad."

Mycroft's gaze flashed back up to Irene's. She couldn't possibly be serious, could she? Even Sherlock scoffed at this. She always was demanding. Elizabeth was stunned by Irene's confidence in this matter.

"Off you pop and talk to people."

Mycroft leant back in his chair, defeated, "You’ve been very...thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you."

"I can’t take all the credit - had a bit of help." Irene looked to Sherlock, "Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love."

Both Sherlock and Elizabeth perked up at this. Elizabeth was confused - Irene had said Jim had let her go. Unless...her making it known to Jim that she knew about the listening device had meant a consequence for Irene. And Irene doing this was simply a way to avoid said consequence. Again, Elizabeth believed she had messed up. When didn't she?

Sherlock had very briefly glanced at Elizabeth when Jim was mentioned. His gaze didn't linger for long though. He wanted to gauge her reaction, wondering if she already knew this and was merely surprised that Irene had mentioned it. He thought back to when Elizabeth told him about her meeting with Irene. What if she had lied? What if he was being played twice as bad?

No. No, he couldn't think that of Elizabeth. Her reaction was shocked which - could mean anything.

"Yes, he’s been in touch." Mycroft said, "Seems desperate for my attention...which I’m sure can be arranged."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed - why would Mycroft want to willingly meet with Jim?

Irene stood, strolling over to Mycroft's end of the table, "I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal." She paused, sitting on the shaped oak, looking down at Mycroft, "Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. D’you know what he calls you? The Ice Man..." She spoke the name in a whisper before looking at Sherlock, "And the Virgin."

Elizabeth looked at the floor when Irene said this. Wasn't exactly how she ever wanted to find out such a personal piece of information about the detective. The thief momentarily looked up at Sherlock, who didn't even seem to be listening as his eyes were closed, an expression of concentrated thought upon his face.

Irene continued, "Didn't even ask for anything. I think he just likes to cause trouble - now that’s my kind of man."

"And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees." Mycroft stood, reluctantly congratulating Irene, "Nicely played."

"No." Sherlock said, a cunning smile on his face.

Irene seemed relatively unphased, "Sorry?"

"I said no." Sherlock looked over his shoulder at Irene and Mycroft, "Very, very close, but no." Sherlock stood, approaching The Woman with the clear intent to destroy her success, "You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much."

Elizabeth sat, still as could be in her chair as she watched the scene unfold. Sherlock was confident in his deductions; Irene was still confident she had won.

"No such thing as too much."

"Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine, craving the distraction of the game – I sympathise entirely – but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side."

Elizabeth's eyes shone with hurt. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

"Sentiment? What are you talking about?"

"You."

"Oh dear God." Irene took a breath, "Look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you’re the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?"

It was nothing personal - that's what Irene had said to Elizabeth. She understood now, somewhat. Irene seduced Sherlock to get her way. But that still didn't stop Sherlock from having feelings for The Woman. However, this situation was making Elizabeth question if Irene's betrayal had completely crushed any feelings the detective originally had for her. She wouldn't argue if so but - sentiment was a chemical defect?

"No." Sherlock stated, leaning close to her ear and whispering something inaudible to Mycroft and Elizabeth, "Because I took your pulse."

As he stood there, his hand wrapped aroujd her wrist again and he continued to whisper to her, "Elevated; your pupils dilated."

Sherlock reached behind the stunned Irene, picking up her phone, "I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive." He paced back over to the chairs, never once acknowledging that Elizabeth was still present, "When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you: the combination to your safe – your measurements; but this?" He tossed the phone in the air and caught it again, "This is far more intimate. This is your heart...and you should never let it rule your head. You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you’ve worked for," He continued to input the code, one digit at a time, "But you just couldn’t resist it, could you? I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof."

Elizabeth looked away from the spectacle and at the fire instead, Sherlock's words echoed in her mind and her reaction manifested in a single, clear drop of hopelessness, frustration and hurt sliding down her cheek. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore his words.

Irene's eyes shone with emotion in the fiery light but she wouldn't cry. Not to him. This wasn't how it was meant to be. Sherlock Holmes was never supposed to win - it was supposed to have been her.

Irene grabbed the phone in his hand, holding it with him, "Everything I said: it’s not real." She whispered, "I was just playing the game."

"I know." Sherlock spoke coldly as he added the last digit, "And this is just losing." He showed the screen to Irene before entering the code.

Irene wouldn't cry. Not in front of him. And yet her heart ruled her head once again as two tear drops cascaded down her porcelain cheeks.

Sherlock held his arm out to Mycroft for his brother to collect the phone, "There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight." 

Mycroft replied but even he looked concerned by his brother's reaction, "I’m certain they will."

"If you’re feeling kind, lock her up; otherwise let her go." The detective said, tapping Elizabeth's shoulder to let her know to follow him as he headed to he door, "I doubt she’ll survive long without her protection."

Elizabeth reluctantly stood, not looking at Sherlock face-on.

"Are you expecting me to beg?" Irene asked quickly, emotionally.

"Yes." Sherlock paused but kept staring out of the open door.

"Please." She wasted no time in giving in, "You're right. I won’t even last six months."

The detective looked at Irene, his face devoid of any emotion, let alone remorse, "Sorry about dinner. Elizabeth, let's go."

And with that Sherlock left. Elizabeth looked to Irene sympathetically. She didn't like her after what she had done, trying to seduce Sherlock, but that still didn't mean that she had to be treated so harshly. Sharing a look with Mycroft as well, she knew they would soon speak about her escapade. But not now.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth gulped as she said this to both of them before following after Sherlock.

*  *  *  *  *  *

In the car, again driven by one of Mycroft's personnel, on the way back to 221B, the detective and thief sat in silence. Elizabeth was struggling to keep back tears. What she and Sherlock had was ruined. And ruined by Sherlock rather than herself. That seemed to hurt more.

When they were nearer to Baker Street, the silence was broken.

"What was the code?" Elizabeth asked without looking at him.

"S-H-E-R. SHER-locked."

"So she liked you?"

"Yes. Apparently so."

"And you liked her?"

"Not romantically."

Elizabeth scoffed at this, remembering what she had seen earlier that evening. Sherlock frowned at her reaction. Was he wrong? No, of course not. He didn't fancy The Woman at all. Just liked her intelligence.

Quiet fell upon the their conversation again. Elizabeth still didn't dare look at him.

Sherlock sensed her upset but was unsure of how to approach it other than with a simple question, "Are you...okay?"

Elizabeth laughed through her tears as she wiped them away, "Okay? Sherlock, do I look okay?" She finally looked at him, her cheeks tear-stained and eyes already showing signs of puffiness.

"No. That's why I asked."

She looked like she wanted to scream and slap him, but let out a frustrated grunt into her hands instead, "Do you even want me anymore? Do you still want to be with me?"

"Yes, I - "

"Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. Love is dangerous disadvantage. Love is destructive." Elizabeth repeated, her voice strained as she struggled to get her words out through the lump in her throat, "The fact that I saw you and Irene together about to kiss. Her constant flirting with you and your acceptance of it. Sherlock, you haven't been emotionally or mentally present for a week but you wrote Irene music and the moment Irene came back you hopped right back to it. Let's not once again forget that you were going to hide the fact that Irene was alive from me. And the way you treated Irene now - she might have lied, Sherlock, and she seduced you and I despise her for it but - you saw how scared she was and you practically doomed her anyway."

Sherlock had perked up when Elizabeth had mentioned his and Irene's almost-kiss. The shadow... She was never meant to see. And that subconscious statement made him feel even worse.

She let out a strangled sob as she held her hands over her mouth, trying to stop herself from breaking down but she was already too far gone, "Sherlock, you have been the best thing I have ever had but if I am such a dangerous disadvantage why am I still here? Why?"

Sherlock looked hurt by seeing her breakdown like this. He had thought about what he was going to say but he hadn't thought. And now his victory statement to Irene felt wrong. He opened his mouth speak but the words never made it out. He tried to take her hand to reassure her but -

"Don’t fucking touch me, Sherlock, answer the damn question." She snapped through the streams of tears running down her face, "Do you really think that about sentiment and love? Am I really just a disadvantage to you? To your intelligence?"

Judging by her reaction, the logical part of him would say yes, he did agree with his earlier statements. Being like this out of love for him clearly wasn't helping her considering the state she was in. It should have only been the logical part of him that answered but he listened to his heart too. His heart ached. He had messed this up, he knew that now. He found he wanted to comfort her but also found that Elizabeth was the one to coldly turn him away this time. And logically, for good reason.

Was Elizabeth a weakness to him?

Yes.

Did that mean she was a disadvantage and a dangerous one at that?

Yes.

But did he find that his sentiments still remained in love with her?

Yes.

Why was she the exception?

He didn't know.

How would he resurrect this situation now?

He didn't know that either.

The driver stopped outside 221B and at the lack of an answer, Elizabeth shook her head, pain in her eyes as she opened the door, and slammed it shut, repeating this action with the door to the building as well.

Sherlock just watched her go, pain also echoing in his eyes. He gulped, finding his mouth was abnormally dry. What a mess this had become.

Mycroft had said that Elizabeth would disappoint Sherlock.

Little did he know, it was the other way around.