I'll have what she's having. [Greg Lestrade]

Irene Adler sat, waiting at a table for said Detective Inspector Lestrade to appear, she checked her flawless make up and then smoothed out the crisp, white envelope for the second time, it was not that the Inspector was late, Adler was merely early. She sipped her glass of white wine, waiting.


I hope he appreciates how long it took to get this evidence... He better have what I want...Or he's never getting this vital piece of evidence, evidence that would maybe even shape his whole career.

Lestrade immediately started walking down the corridors, he had what she wanted but wasn't sure about this exchange, it was making his stomach feel uneasy. Would she simply run off or actually give him the evidence? The case was dragging and all his division was feeling it too.

He walked into the cafe, scanning the room before spotting Irene. He took a chair, slid it back and sat down, a slight distance away from the table.

"This deal of yours, who do I know you won't run away with my evidence?" Lestrade asked, fiddling with his fingers.

He never really was nervous, simply jumpy. He was excited and curious to find out how it would pan out, but was it really worth the effort to find where Sherlock was for a piece of evidence?

Snap out of it Greg, you need the evidence. She had the envelope in front of you. LOOK.

Lestrade stopped fiddling and looked at the envelop she held in her hands, it was so close. He never really liked to hand over something for something he actually needed in return.

"So…what's your answer?"

Irene saw how uneasy the Inspector was, that was good. Sherlock had obviously mentioned her before, Irene took a deliberately slow sip from her glass, smiling slightly to herself. In Adler's mind, she was in control. She could change this entire situation, but she needed to know where Sherlock was.

The older Mr Holmes had been no help, refusing to even speak to her, but Irene needed to know... It made her uneasy not knowing.

"In this envelope I hold the most vital piece of Evidence in your case, the next location of the raid. The next place the Water's family are going to strike. But I need you think from you. The location of Sherlock Holmes. That is my offer." Irene sat back in her chair, her eyes narrowed, studying the Inspector.
"This is going to be a challenge..." Irene thought to herself as she slid the envelope closer to the Detective as her soup arrived.

The waiter turned to ask what he wanted and he pointed to Irene's soup, the waiter curtly nodded and left. Irene was mocking him, she presumed she was in control. And, for the most part, she was. Lestrade leant back on his chair, fiddling with a cigarette that he had found in his jacket pocket.

She was just showing off now…Lestrade felt a bead of sweat making it's way down his cheek. It wasn't hot nor was he panicking. It was the tension in the room, of all the things, it was woman. At press conferences, there was enough tension in the room but nothing had made him reduced to this…could it have been John's warning about her?

He slammed a hand down on the envelope.

"How do I know that you aren't going to run off with my evidence if I tell you the location?" Lestrade asked. Deadly serious. The sort of tome that he used around suspects.

People looked at him, oddly. Maybe they thought they were going out, never the less, they continued to 'check in' on him from time to time in the silence that surrounded him. "Why do you even need to know where Sherlock is?"

Irene smiled coyly, and slid the envelope from under his grasp, she didn't like when a man showed aggression towards her, it was rude. Or so she considered it to be.

"I need to know where Sherlock Holmes is encase...Encase he gets assigned to one of my cases again, I can not have another one of those events ruining my good name in the black mail game, can I?" Irene smiled, she could see why Sherlock liked this one, he was loyal, like a dog. And clever, cleverer than she had thought.

"I won't take the evidence and run, I promise, that is why I agree to give you the evidence first...If you decide not to tell me the whereabouts of Sherlock Holmes...See it as a helping hand. But I don't think you will, your not that kind of man, are you?"

Irene sat back in her chair, her arms uncrossed, keeping her body language neutral, customers around the two kept staring, and glancing in their direction, presuming them to be some married couple that were having marital differences. If only they knew why they really were here

Lestrade, right now, looked like a frustrated kid. He was so close to getting the envelope, more and more he found out about the woman, the better. He was left in the dark apart from the fact that she was a dominatrix, according to Sherlock.

The waiter reappeared, giving him his soup and leaving again. Greg stared at it, moving it around with the spoon, lots of floating bits reminded him of a case that he once worked…

"Why don't you just come to us, the police? Or is it…that you are in an affair with him?" Lestrade implied, raising a single eyebrow.

He saw that the other customers were feeling quite awkward in the position Lestrade had put them in, asking about an affair was a big no no but he had to do it. He slid his other hand away and back into his trouser pocket, keeping it warm.

"Before I do hand over the thing you need, that answer…I don't think that is enough to convince me to hand it over." Lestrade took a sip of his soup, it burnt his upper part of his tongue.

He stuck it out as if it tasted horrible but realized what he was doing and put his tongue back in, embarrassed. "Fine…fine…I'll tell…" So he did. He began to spill all he knew about Sherlock's whereabouts. It reminded him that he needed to visit John Watson, who was probably chilling at home with Mary.

Irene's eyes narrowed, she didn't like this, she felt like a rat in the corner, and this was not the way it was meant to be. But he was giving her the information, that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

Irene waited until Lestrade had finished his speech, giving Irene everything she needed and more, far much more than she had expected. Irene smiled, her lips curling back over her sharp teeth, her nails shimmering in the candle light. She slid the envelope over to the detective when he was finished speaking.

"Thank you Detective Inspector, that was...Very enlightening. And here are the files and evidence, just as promised." Irene sipped her soup, waiting, watching the Inspector's mind think, tick over, processing the information she had just rewarded him. She set down her spoon and washed it down with Wine, the soup here was awful, but the wine wasn't bad, she preferred the 2000 version better.

Lestrade smirked, taking the envelope and turning it continuously in his hands, unbelieving what he had just done. None the less, he had gotten what he had came for. Maybe she would leave or he should make the first move, he wasn't sure but he needed to attend the press conference in…

He check his watch, fifteen minutes.

That gave him enough time to visit John and deliver all the parcels Molly had stored up for them. Lestrade sighed, finally slipping it into his pocket and he was itching for a smoke.

"Do you need anything else? I have a press conference and you know how those turn out, that Sherlock…" He chuckled at the case where everyone had received a text saying that what he was saying was 'wrong.'

Sally would be wondering what was taking him so long, she was like an overprotective mother and he didn't even want to think about the theories that Anderson was creating now. Maybe a pint of beer will help him? No, drinking wasn't allowed on the job.

With that, he got up, a half full bowl of soup still on the table.

"If you need anything else…you got my number…" Greg said, proceeding to exit the restaurant.

Adler smiled as the Inspector left the restaurant, she stood, took her purse, and left money on the table, pulling on her fur jacket as she left, yes she had given Lestrade the evidence, yes she had let him believe he won...But was it all the evidence he needed? He'd have to wait and see...

Lestrade finally made it back to his desk, a ton of paperwork stacked high upon his desk. He frowned. The envelope was heavier than he imagined. Getting a knife, he opened it, making a clean cut on the envelope.

Sally's head popped in around the corner. "What's that?"

"None of your business, Sally. Get back to work."

Sally wasn't having it, she strode over and held his shoulder firmly. Lestrade was surprised at this, one because he was her senior officer and two, she was really invading his personal space.

"It was from an anonymous tip." Was all Lestrade said before Sally let go and walked back to her desk.

He took out the contents of what was inside and put it to one side for now. It was time for another bloody press conference.

Taking a seat, he listened to what the lead person in his division had to say before getting a bombardment of questions, most relating to the Water's family.

"I understand…we are trying our best…" He defended himself and Scotland Yard, reporters were a bit quick to judge and hard to persuade that they were indeed trying their very hardest to catch these robbers in the act.

Irene sat in a local cafe, watching the Press Meeting, he was going to get such a surprise when he read the contents fully, whether a good surprise, or a nasty one, it all depended....

Greg had wasted most of precious hours on this press conference, he head butted the desk, once the meeting was over.

"I bloody hate reporters. Get me that envelope from my desk please?" Lestrade asked, his face buried in his hands.

Someone went to fetch it and Lestrade leant into the light to properly see what the evidence Irene had given him…it wasn't much but a few dud tickets and a lighter…she cheated him!

He was going to put this straight. He called up Irene.

"Meet me at the same place, in about an hour. There is something serious I have to talk about."

Irene sat at the same table, at the correct time, waiting for the Detective Inspector, maybe it was cruel of her to taunt the man like this, but what could she say? She enjoyed it.

She glanced around the restaurant, some of people, customers, glanced at her uneasily, obviously remembering her from the earlier visit. She sipped her glass, waiting for the Inspector, she felt slight dread, but then remembered he was unlikely to do anything rash in public...But she wouldn't hold her breath.

She sat, slightly bored, checking her messages, waiting for the Inspector, maybe he was purposely making her wait.

Lestrade strode in, the door slammed the door behind him. A frown was set upon his face and everyone stared before resuming their chat, presuming that things were going to get awkward quite fast.

Lestrade threw the envelope on the table before taking a seat, he raised an eyebrow but had not said a word since his arrival. He should have seen this coming, it was obvious.

"Well?" Lestrade nodded at the envelope. "Why did you do this, did you tamper with...there was no evidence, was there?"

He put both hands on the back of his head and leant back on the chair. When the waitress came around, he waved her away. He wasnt in the mood for food. Lestrade had already given her the evidence to Sherlock's whereabouts but she had given him the envelope.

"Is the lighter even meant to mean anything? I smoke? Well that is a bit obvious..." He threw his hands up, exasperated. She could have made him go on a wild goose chase, just not give him false hope and evidence. This was an important case, more important than Irene's new found love, Sherlock. He was supposed to be meeting John but now, he simply couldn't make it.

Taking out his phone, he sent a message to John apologising to why he could not come.

Irene shifted, uncomfortable, she had known there was no way to avoid this. So she must face it.

"There is evidence...I just did not give it to you the correct folder. I am sorry. But I needed to know that the information you gave me was not false. Here." Irene slid a much smaller, vanilla envelope across the table.

She pulled her fur coat closer, nervous. She didn't want to annoy the Inspector, last thing in the world she wanted was another person gunning for her and wanting her head an a sliver platter.

But she had to be certain. She had to be certain that she wasn't being made a fool of. She wouldn't have that happen to her again, not like what Sherlock had done to her.

Irene glanced around, other customers looked uncomfortable, she didn't care, she just wanted this over with. She wanted to pay the debt she was in.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow, he was skeptical and not wanting to look like a fool again. He took the envelope, daring Irene to say that it wasnt the evidence. He used a butter knife to open it, took out the contents and read it through a couple of times to make sure he was getting what he came for.

"The funny thing is that you owe a debt to Sherlock...must be why you need to know where he is. You could have gone to John's or Mycroft to find out...but no, you turn to me to tell you. A formal conversation. Now, tell me, this is the right envelope?"

Lestrade had said it because of the movement of her coat, she was nervous, had something to hide...she still wasnt telling him something. He got up, gesturing for Irene to follow.

Once he got out, he pulled out a cigarette and the lighter he had received and lit it. A breeze whisked the smoke quickly away, his hands momentarily shook from the cold.

"Do you have any other favours you would like from me?"

Irene sighed, her breath foggy in the cold London air, she was quiet before responding to Inspector Lestrade.

"I want you to keep me posted on everything Sherlock does, who he is with, what cases he takes. There is a threat coming, something bigger than maybe James Moriarty himself, I want you to tell me, so then I can warn Sherlock, warn him when the time comes that someone may die." Irene pulled her coat tighter, it was colder, and she didn't like asking this man for favors.

But John Watson wouldn't speak to her, nor would Mycroft, believing her to be untrustworthy, which was, in fact. But there was something about Detective Inspector Lestrade that made Irene feel that she could trust him with this, and Irene did not trust easily, she believed, or rather hoped that if it was something to do with the safety of Sherlock that he would listen.

"And yes, it is the right evidence, you have my word."

(( Just wondering, I think this is a good end to the RP? If you want to carry on, let me know ))

((No, this is perfect, thanks for RPing, its been an honor   ))

(( No, its been an honor to RP with you ! Hope to make a new one soon ! ))

((Things are busy, but I most certainly will!))