Angels Whisper to a Man When he Walks (Irene, cas)

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Walking out of the 1-2-5, Peter Aramis had only one thing on his mind – bed. Oh, this time he was thinking about his own bed and not someone else’s. Lord knew he’d had enough excitement by finding himself in the wrong one lately. Max had been a disaster, after all, and everything following had been more out of habit than want.

He was tired. It was a deep in his bones tired that he’d never felt before. Sure, he’d been tired before, but it often meant he needed sleep and a hot cup of coffee in the morning. This was just...well, it almost felt more mental than physical, one affecting the other. So he’d go home, kick the dog off the bed and get some sleep. Who knew, maybe he would feel refreshed in the morning, ready to face the day...

And maybe pigs flew. It was all up in the air and he wasn’t going to count on anything going his way any time soon.

Walking along the sidewalk, Peter looked up to see if there were any stars, but the smog in New York was apparently doing its’ job. Peter missed the stars in Montana, but he was hopeful that one night he’d find them in New York.

It was just before he made it to the subway that he suddenly felt ill at ease, like someone was watching him. He didn’t like the feeling, but he tried not to give any indication that he noticed. He kept his gait even as he kept walking, hoping whoever it was would either get bored or make themselves known. Either way, he was getting bored of this game far too quickly for it to be amusing.

[IRENE ADLER]

She had been distant from the world. The world who hated her in a way , the night was her welcomed companion her friend and she could not even for the her own life deny that she liked it better then the daylight. Her finger tapped the cigar and let it drop of the floor as she halted to stare at the man who had slept or rather enjoyed his time with Sherlock. Sure she was not a woman who was jealous or anything like that. Far from it, she just wanted to learn the reason why. I mean she could ask, but she wanted to keep spying on the poor fellow.

Oh yes she remembered him perfectly well. The man who she had her way with. What was a little more sexual torture to her anyway. Sex was meaningless and yet it gave her strength. The knowledge of Sherlock's infidelities were enough to crush her so she needed to crush back and hard. Her long messy hair and her dis leveled appearance had gone far enough. She wanted people to pay. She wanted to find the reason why. Why all this, why could she be the bad guy and other people where not. She was growing sick of it. Like an infectious disease it spread and did not leave her in peace. She needed help, and she needed questions to be answered , lucky for her she was going to get some.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Walking a bit further than he normally would, Peter skipped the subway station in favor of seeing if someone was really following him. He hadn’t had survived by the skin of his teeth thus far just to have things go awry now. He was a Montana boy, after all, but mostly he was a Detective who survived his neighborhood in Brooklyn with no major trauma. Recently. The point was, he knew how to spot someone following him. It made the hair on the back of his neck prickle and he didn’t particularly like that feeling. The only way to fix it was to confront whoever was on his tail.

With that thought in mind, Peter turned the corner and jogged a bit, ducking into an alleyway on his left. He leaned against the wall of the building, cast in shadow as he waited. It smelled to high heaven, so he tried his best not to breathe as he waited. After a minute, he was starting to think he was being foolish when he heard the click of purposeful strides on the concrete. Seeing as how they were the slightest bit faster than the usual stride of a person, it was definitely someone who had lost track of him. Only when they walked past the alley did he step out to get a good look at who it was.

He wished he hadn’t.

“You,” he growled, remembering their last encounter.

It hadn’t ended well. Peter had never enjoyed being played with and she had played with him to her heart’s content, even when she’d thrown him right into his phobia of being tired up. She’d even dubbed him a puppy. Well, he was growling like one, so he supposed that was only fitting this time.

“Why are you following me?”

And the woman had better have one heck of an explanation or he was going to be highly upset with her.