Sherlock Imagines

The Problem with Spiders (Moriadler/Adiarty)

Day Two of SHIPPING HELL!
I'm not quite a fan of how I did this, it seems rushed. I'm sorry..

Irene woke up slowly, still aching and sore from the night before. With any luck, she might've done a number on her partner, too. But that was the thing about Jim Moriarty- sometimes he'd give up control, sometimes he craved that power over you, and no matter what you did- you were his. He was the storm, and Chuck did she love it. She slipped out of the silk sheets, stumbling through her headache and spinning head as she looked for her Halloween costume from the night before. She could feel his presence- his eyes on her before he even made himself known.
"You're loud when you're drunk- did you know that?" He inquired, mostly to tease her. Though she handled her alcohol a hell of a lot better than most people, when she did get hammered, she rarely remembered being so. That was the difference between the two- no matter how drunk, or high off his arse Jim was, he always remembered. And it was always her downfall. She picked up the little black dress, pulling it on before turning to glare at him. She wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face... or kiss it off, either would do. There was one thing she could definitely remember, however, with extreme clarity.
"And you like to play hero when you're." The words resonated around the room, trapping Jim where he stood. Silence followed, like the screams of the damned did silence follow.
"Breakfast will be ready in ten." And with that, he was gone.
Her hand ran through her hair, self pity swirling through her. Irene had promised herself she wouldn't put herself into this position anymore. To feel like one of his toys, for him to play with and break as he pleased.
Then again, she never expected Jim to play angel for her, either. Especially not in front of his clients and his "friends," not like he had the night before.
The entire party was alight, music blaring, and people in costumes surrounding her. No shame was present as people ground into each other, gripping and grabbing anything they could, practically shagging in the open- a few actually doing so. She was just slipping in and out of areas, food, dancing- as long as she avoided Jim in the dining room, where he was mostly just marketing and ignoring random people's flirting. It hadn't taken her long to realize she was being followed, but she paid little mind to it as she headed for a line for the loo. That's where things had gone south.
The brute pinned her harshly to the wall, not far from anyone else, with his face close enough for her to smell the alcohol that'd overtaken his breath.
"Let go of me!" She fought him, to little avail, "Someone- help-!" She scratched and struggled, but his grip just got tighter and tighter and hurt more as those around her ignored her please. Bunch of criminal scum. Then, suddenly, a voice broke through the music, and she relaxed the slightest bit.
"Excuse me, but explain to me why you've got my girlfriend struggling in your grasp and pinned to the wall? I'm highly slighting she wants you touching her like that." Jim- she'd recognize that Irish lilt anywhere. She took in a deep breath as she was released. Her eyes widened the slightest bit as Jim put himself between them.
"If she's dressin' li'e a whore, wha' does she expe't? Ge' a be'er hold' on your bi'ch." The drunkard slurred, and one could feel the entire area around Jim go from irritated to positively fuming. His hand shot out immediately upon hearing this, and he pressed his thumb into the pressure point on the man's elbow, then twisted it until the jerk was on his knees.
"Now, do well to remember that, no matter what she's wearing, the person responsible for decisions on Miss Adler's body are HERS, and hers alone, and if you forget that, you'll find the decisions regarding your body will no longer be in your hands, but rather those of a few cannibal friends of mine." When Jim Finally let up, the idiot didn't hesitate to scurry away like the filthy rodent Jim had deemed him as.
The rest of the night, Jim stayed with Irene, ignoring multiple people to be sure she was alright at all times throughout the evening. When things later ended up in his room, not that she could remember, he was hesitant to let her make the decision in the first place, but his own alcohol-poisoned mind had eventually caved.
It took a while of talking herself up, but she finally rejoined Jim down at the breakfast bar, sitting down to get actual food in her. Her plate was waiting, and thankfully, Jim didn't mention her odd behaviour as she moved a seat away from him.
"How's business been?" He asked, politely engaging in conversation. And from there, things went on as they almost always did. Polite conversation turned into playful flirting, and that turned into the question. It was never the exact same question, but it was always the same implication...
"We could always just head back upstairs, repeat last night- that is, of course, unless you've got any prior engagements?" In the past, she only rejected the offer if she had business she simply had to attend to.
"No... thank you." Her eyes were on her food, letting the words sink into her mind.
"Ah, I see... client?" He asked in amusement, but it fell the moment she shook her head, being replaced by confusion.
"Meeting..?" He tried again, but got the same response.
"No, nothing of that sort, just wanting to go home." She cleared her throat, standing up to clear her place. He was... stunned. Not in a bad way, but more in a 'This has never happened before' way, and he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Had he done something to offend her, or..? He was drawing a blank, mind lost to his thoughts until he heard the closet door open, and he hurried to catch up with her.
"I mean no offense when I ask this, I assure you, but-" How could he phrase this without coming off as a total arsehole?
"Did I do something wrong?" She watched him closely, wondering if he'd figure it out or if she'd have to tell him.
"For a genius, you're incredibly blind." The frankness was shocking, and it hit him with the force of a freight train- straight into his ego.
"Alllllright... but what did I do?" He parroted, inquisitive nature getting the best of him. She was getting annoyed by now, and she could feel him gingerly approaching her. Without warning her hand snapped out, wrapping around the back of his neck, and pulling him into her, kissing him with all the pent up frustration she'd been carrying.
"I love you, that's the problem." His eyes widened at the admission, mouth falling agape. She could feel her actions sinking in, and with every inch they made through, she could feel her heart falling in time.
"W-What? Why on earth- Irene, why the hell would you love me?" There was something in his eyes- there was always something in them, but never like this. She'd seen madness, intelligence, charm and malice- but never anything like this. This was how other people looked at him, like he was mad.
Now, however, he seemed to think her completely crazy, "I don't... don't know, I just do..?" She tried quietly, feeling ashamed for the way she felt. It was ridiculous, she realized, but then again, that's what society teaches: Feel the way you feel, and follow your heart- unless it gets broken, then you're simply a fool.
"You can do so much better than me- don't you realize that?" That made her head shoot up, eyes wide as she stared at him.
"Are you saying-" "That I reciprocate your emotions, obviously, do keep up." He dismissed quickly, and went to start another tangent, but she was quick to silence him.
"Too bad I don't want anyone else, then." She murmured against his lips, smiling softly.
"But- I'm practically a psychopa-" Practically wouldn't cut it for her, not this time.
She supposed that was just the problem with spiders.