burning-baker-street started following you
James, love. Dare I ask how you are?
notapsychopath started following you
Re-thought dinner, Mr. Holmes?
prof-jim-moriarty replied to your post: Headcanon #1
You’re the only person to ever get it right the first time.
Headcanon #1
Irene only has only ever had sex with one of her clients. Jim Moriarty.
Sure she gives preference to some others, like Anthea, for example…
But Jim’s the only person to have ever had control over her.
And she likes it that way.
natethedetonator started following you
Oh, well I haven’t seen you around before. A new client, maybe?
How lovely to meet you. 
inevitably-jack started following you
Hello there, have we met, love?
Non… non we have not. And to whom do I owe the pleasure?
Ms Irene Adler, at your service. Or The Woman, if you’d prefer.
And you are…?Jack… Jack Chapman- -takes her hand and kisses the back of it quickly; Charmed, Ms Adler.
-She smiles, letting her eyes rake over him- Enchanted, I’m sure.
What brings you here?
adler-thewoman asked: Anthea, sweetheart, would you still like to see those photos? -IA
Irene bit gently on her lower lip as she kept her finger in it’s place, eyes transfixed on the rather distracting area. “Is the Ice man not strict enough for you, darling?” She murmured, almost in a dream-like state.
Slowly, she began to trace her finger upwards again, hooking it over the neck of her shirt and tugging down ever so slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you how to behave.” Irene threw Anthea a wicked smile before abruptly pulling the neck of the blouse down, popping the buttons with professional precision.
“Now, sugar.” She said confidently as she moved a hand to Anthea’s shoulder, pushing her down, forcing her to her knees. “What would you like me to call you?” Irene had switched into work mode, and there was no turning back now.
“No Miss Adler,” she gasped, watching the other woman bite her lip and eyes cast on her chest. The woman brought her finger up and tugged on Anthea’s shirt before wickedly yanking down and popping all the buttons off, opening her shirt and exposing the leather corset underneath to view.
Anthea bent to her knees as Irene pushed her down, looking at the floorboards. “I’ve been very dirty Miss Adler,” she admitted, “No sex in the office, Mr. Holmes has told me this. I’ve broken that rule twice this week Miss Adler. Slut would be appropriate Miss Adler, as that is what I’ve been.”
“Look at me.” Irene snapped suddenly, her tone of voice sharp, controlled. “Unless the floorboards are more interesting?” She brought a perfectly manicured red nail under Anthea’s chin and tilted it up, so their gazes met. “Ah, much better.” A cruel smirk passed over her lips as she let her nail dig in to the girl’s skin ever so slightly.
“Slut, yes? Is that what you are, darling? Is that what you are for the big boss man?” Her tone had changed so quickly, from demanding to sweet to patronising. “You know he’s just a kitten really? I could change him like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Fire has a habit of melting ice in to a puddle,” The finger that was propping Anthea’s chin up now moved to trace along her lower lip. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do to you, petal.”
Hello there, have we met, love?
Non… non we have not. And to whom do I owe the pleasure?
Ms Irene Adler, at your service. Or The Woman, if you’d prefer.
And you are…?
*Irene opens the door to the taxi and steps in elegantly, tapping her nose lightly as she waited for Sherlock to get in. Once he was inside and as the cab began to move, she stared out of the window and began to explain the situation to him.* The note… It said “See if he can help you now.” Naturally, I presume he is you.
*He ran his finger over his lips in thought* And what exactly was stolen?
*Irene turned to face Sherlock, her eyes immediately darting to his lips.* I-uh, a substantial amount of money. Some important photos. Jewellery that has been passed down through my family for generations. And some- Sherlock, would you mind doing that with your lips? It’s terribly distracting… *She smirked slightly and shifted in her seat to face the window again.* You know how important those things are to me.
*Sherlock paused, glancing over to her unsure how that could possibly be distracting before lowering his hand and tapping his long fingers in a rhythmic pattern of eight instead to think*I see. I’ll of course need a general idea of where those photos and things came from so we can see if they were the ones to take it back.
*Irene took a deep breath as she continued to gaze out of the window* Well as for the the money, it’s from my business, of course. If you want to know about the history of the jewellery, they were 17th century pieces. Family heirlooms. French. Very dear to my heart. And the photos… *She smiled to herself* You know where they came from. Although the people who feature in them bear no relevance to this situation. They were close friends. Encouraged the photographs to be taken, in fact. *A puzzled look suddenly crosses her face* That’s why it’s all so confusing.
