CALL ME WHEN YOU NEED ME

[diogenesis]

Who: Mycroft Holmes & Irene Adler
What: Irene has some news.
Where: Flyside; Lost Society
When: Givdi, Ceidary 24th
Notes: Closed post.
Warnings: N/A

Mycroft arrives at the lounge at a quarter past nine. He doesn't have the feeling Irene will be early for tonight's meeting; she'd sounded almost transparently exhausted in her message, and although said message arrived more than half a day ago now (and at a ludicrous time of night which was, in reality, a ludicrous time of morning), the fact that it arrived at all spoke volumes.

The Lost Society at half nine tonight. I’ll see you there. So sorry about the timing, dear, but it would have been dreadfully short notice otherwise.

He hadn't responded to her. It wasn't the type of message that required a response. She knew he'd be there; he knew she knew. (It seems to be this way with them often, here. And who would have known? Who would ever have known, back home?)

He settles down in a corner of the Library and orders a scotch while he waits and ruminates.

Comments

[thedominatrix]

Half a day of sleep, a long shower, a few minutes of oh my God, I'm black and blue and a degree of time spent reorganising her schedule to take account of shifting circumstances and Irene feels on top of things again.

More or less.

She's dressed to conceal, which is something she doesn't really do often, though she's aware it's not actually going to stand up to Mycroft's powers of deduction- especially not if she takes her bolero off, because her arms are bare beneath it, rope-burned and smattered with purple bruises. Her stockings disguise similar bruising and grazes on her legs, but not totally.

She moves like someone very determined not to move at all gingerly, but there's a kind of glint in her eyes- she's battered, not beaten, quite the opposite; whatever she's done, it has somehow worked out well for her.

"I," she says, drawing out the suspense as she clicks closer, a whiskey sour in her hand, and sits down opposite him- hi, hello, greetings are for normal people, "had a fantastically interesting night. But you know that, of course."