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The Woman and The Wolf

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Though she was very professional and smart, Irene Adler had a weakness: she loved to play games even if it was dangerous. She loved danger, she loved a good challenge since she was a little girl, she was addicted to it and when she was in a game she just couldn’t stop, she was excessive. She was conscious of that yet she didn’t try to change it.

 

That was the reason why she scared the little princess and the Queen with her pictures some time ago, letting them think she could use those for blackmail. It wasn’t really her intention; she was mostly keeping pictures of her clients to be sure none of them would ever bother her. All she wanted was to see the royal family and the government tremble and they did. Then, Mycroft Holmes did something that made things even better: he hired his little brother Sherlock Holmes.

 

When she had been told by someone (a man working in the government and who was entranced by her beyond reason) about it, The Woman made some research on Sherlock Holmes and she just wished to meet him. He was attractive physically and apparently he was outsmarting the whole Scotland Yard. She had expected a lot of their encounter and for the very first time since very long, she had felt almost nervous while expecting a man to come. Their encounter had been satisfying, seeing her naked had taken him by surprise, but he had been able to control himself, he had been challenging, definitely. He had even been able to take the control of the conversation when he had told her about the man found dead near the river. People were rarely able to take control with her, even for a slight second.

 

Even if he failed to get her phone back, she still had a lot of esteem for the detective. She renounced to scare the royal family, she sent a letter to reassure them she wouldn’t use those; however she didn’t renounce to Sherlock. She wanted more, she wanted to find another game in which she could test his determination, and she wanted him to submit completely. Last time when she had drugged him with the needle, his body had surrendered but not his mind, he had tried to fight, and that’s why she had to whip him to have her phone back. It wasn’t complete victory.

 

There was also another reason: she longed to see him again. She didn’t really want to admit it to herself but she genuinely wished them to share something with him. The detective had been right on one thing: her clients were mostly idiots, powerful maybe but all in all they were idiots. The politicians who asked her to tie them and use her whip were maybe good to plot, good to lie, but they weren’t really smart. Same for the little princess, she was maybe pretty, but Lord she was a fool. She had never met someone who would actually excite her physically and intellectually, and who could also really impress her. Until Sherlock Holmes.

 

She had a new plan, she had sent many texts to Sherlock but he would never answer, so she had taken drastic measures: she hired two men to kidnap the detective. She knew it was very risky, but she counted on two things: first Sherlock wouldn’t talk to the police or to his brother because he was too proud, plus he despised the Yard way too much. Second, he would want to play.

 

Irene had been specific however: she didn’t want them to hurt him badly, drug him yes, but she didn’t want him to be hurt. If someone had to inflict pain to him, it would be her, and maybe it would be pleasurable to them both. She was preparing herself while waiting for them; she had put on a long and clingy black dress, with thin straps and sleeves made of laces and a silver chain with a ruby. When the men brought a drugged Sherlock, she told them to put him on the bed and to leave. They obeyed without a word; they were well paid after all. She took out her handcuff and proceeded to restrain him, the she waited for him to wake up. The night was about to fall, just perfect for the atmosphere.

 

When Sherlock woke up, he recognized the drug’s effects immediately. He blinked several time, feeling quite dizzy and looked around. Where was he? It’s only when he saw the smirking dominatrix in the room that he understood.

 

“Oh Lord…He sighed in exasperation.

 

“No, it’s just me dearie.”

 

“Mrs Adler…”

 

“Yes. Don’t worry, I don’t think the drug they gave you is persistent, it should fade very quickly.”

 

It wasn’t the first time he was drugged or kidnapped, he knew how to react in those situation, he wouldn’t panic. In fact he was pretty curious, what could she want?

 

“Okay…So what’s the point of this?”

 

“Oh just a game I set up. It’s all very simple, you’re mine for the night and if I make you ask for more, I win. If you persuade me to free you however, you win.”

 

“Quite boring…”

 

“Really? Personally, I think it’s exciting. So, Mr Holmes, how are you going to convince me?”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and opened his mouth when suddenly he realised something:

 

“It’s gonna be the full moon tonight.”

 

He looked through the window and saw the night was falling, the moon would come very soon. Irene raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant.

 

“Pretty romantic, but it won’t free you.”

 

“Don’t be so sure, I’ll just ask you not to panic, it would be very annoying and of course, don’t call the police, I’ll escape and you’ll be taken for a loony.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“You’ll see in a second…”

 

As he was saying those words, his heart began to beat faster and he felt a familiar pain along with strange warmth. Irene frowned and her blood turned into ice as she saw his teeth growing and his jaw getting longer, his eyes turned amber and his arms and wrists turned thinner, losing the cuffs around him. Irene backed away and fell back, her legs trembling way too much to support her. She could only watch agape, her eyes wide as Sherlock’s body turned furry, his clothes were ripped off partially and he continued to contort until Irene was face to face with a big grey wolf instead of a man.

 

She was trembling like hell; she didn’t remember being so scared in her life. She didn’t know what to do; she felt like she was loosing her mind, Sherlock Holmes just metamorphosed into a wolf under her eyes! The wolf moved from the bed and approached Irene who yelped out involuntarily. Her head was spinning; the animal titled his head and whined slightly. Irene passed a hand over her mouth and pinched herself to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Pain proved it was real. She realised one thing then: nothing was under control anymore. This wasn’t possible, this wasn’t normal; this wasn’t part of the plan. Irene controlled her world and dominated people around, but this, this she couldn’t control.

 

She replayed the events over and over in her head, Sherlock handcuffed in her bed telling her not to panic and then this gruesome transformation into a wolf…She took some shaky breathes and rubbed her face (though careful not to turn her eyes away form the wolf) in an attempt to sooth herself. Sherlock Holmes was a werewolf! Still staring at the wolf, Irene realised he wasn’t about to attack, yet she was still scared.

 

Sherlock could smell it.

 

To tell the truth, he was quite satisfied to see the dominatrix who captured him terrified like this, it was quite nice to be in control with someone like Irene Adler, she was not easy to scare or beat after all. Yet a part of him disliked this sight too, it was maybe because she was a worthy opponent, smart and adventurous that she didn’t deserve to be brought down like this. She and Sherlock were quite alike. But how could he reassure her?

 

Her reaction was perfectly normal; anyone would be afraid and wouldn’t overcome it easily. Maybe he could lie down on the floor, like he did with John. He executed himself and laid on his belly, in a sphinx like position, his head up to show he was relaxed but not submitting.

 

Irene kept looking at him and as time passed she trembled less and felt a little calmer. She considered her options, she could call the police, her camera phone was in her safe but her home phone was in the living room, easy to reach. Yet she realised it was useless, Sherlock would escape and police would think of her as a lunatic. Then what?

 

Her pride was beginning to overcome her fear, she was The Woman and she wouldn’t stay like this on the floor, trembling like a scared little thing. She forced her shaky legs to stand and took a deep breath, the wolf also stood, Irene stepped aside and grabbed her riding crop. Sherlock growled when he saw this and walked toward her threateningly. She showed him the crop, ready to strike:

 

“Don’t,” said she in a croaky voice, “I won’t call anyone but if you’re bad, I’ll use it, got it?!”

 

The wolf snorted and climbed on the bed, stood here facing Irene, as to show her he wasn’t intimidated. Once again Irene remembered what kind of night she imagined and it was sure nothing like this.

 

“A wolf…You are a werewolf…”

 

Sherlock wished to explain her he wasn’t a werewolf, but it would have to wait for the morning. She examined him and surprised herself to think that he was definitely beautiful whether he was a man or a wolf. Beautiful and dangerous, she loved that.

 

“You’re full of surprise Mr Holmes (her voice was still shaking). Well…It’s convenient to you, without that…You wouldn’t have been able to get untied.”

 

The wolf made an indignant sound, as if saying ‘don’t dare to think so!’

 

“Oh no, I am sure you wouldn’t have.”

 

She nervously laughed, this situation was so surreal, but for now it was as if she could accept it easily. Sherlock Holmes was a werewolf but wasn’t attacking her…She thought she could read the man easily but it seemed that after all he had very well hidden secrets.

 

“When I thought you couldn’t be more interesting…”

 

The wolf waived his tail slightly which made Irene smile in amusement. She had never seen a wolf for real and even if it wasn’t a real wolf, she was still amazed. She felt strange warmth spreading in her, and she found herself wishing to pass her hands through that beautiful grey fur.

 

“Can I approach or are you going to bit me? Not that I dislike biting but with those teeth…”

 

Sherlock looked at the riding crop and growled. Irene sighed, and let it fall on the floor.

 

“It didn’t give a good memory to you, didn’t it?”

 

She walked toward him and carefully extended her hand to his head. The wolf-man sniffed it a little and let the Woman caress his cheek slowly. Her hands were quite cold, he liked that refreshing contact. Irene felt some kind of electricity when she touched him, this was just so incredible, and her heart beat faster. She approached more and finally sat on the bed. She patted at Sherlock to sit also. He laid again in a sphinx like position and Irene let her legs lies at his side, she leaned against her bent elbow to keep her bust half up, and she let her other hand wander over his back, she felt a shudder as she did that, she smiled in delight.

 

Sherlock relaxed under her hands, it was nice to be caressed like this, no one ever had when he was a wolf, it was normal, the only one who knew was John and he would never have caressed Sherlock. Irene continued with her caresses, exploring the wolf’s body, her hands went on his throat and ears, gently feeling his fur. Who would have guessed that the dominatrix could have such soft gestures? He looked at her and when their eyes met, the woman felt strange warmth again, she couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was simply emotions due to the fact she was facing a wolf.

 

“I like your eyes, but I must say I prefer its grey.”

 

The wolf-man gave a slight nod, as if he wanted to tell her that he agreed. She caressed the back of his head; the way she was lying on the side, using one arm to keep her bust up made her look incredibly sensual and confident, while Sherlock was leaning his head against her chest in an intimate way, lying nonchalantly with a proud expression. It was really a marvellous sensation, this creature was wild and deadly, yet he allowed her to touch him.

 

“I guess this evening will be different from what I planned…Though you are still stuck with me and naked.”

 

Sherlock gave her an annoyed glance, yet she went on:

 

“It’s true, your clothes are all torn, but if I remember well, you are fine with a simple sheet.”

 

The wolf growled slightly, not to be threatening but to show his disapproval. She laughed at this:

 

“Don’t worry; I have men’s clothes, in case something wrong happens during my job. I don’t know if it will fit you but it would be better than nothing.”

 

He waived his tail to answer positively and eventually Irene got up.

 

“I think I’ll take a shower, but I fear you are not invited to take it with me.”

 

The wolf huffed and threw her an ‘I don’t care’ look, though Irene was pretty sure he wouldn’t have minded to see her naked again. He followed her to the living room, climbed on her sofa and watched her enter the bathroom. Once the door was closed, Sherlock descended from the sofa and explored the flat. He definitely liked it; it wasn’t ostentatious, just plainly elegant. That flat was definitely much bigger and expensive than the one he and John rented in Baker Street, but Sherlock wondered what the point was to have such a big place when you lived alone. He was quite sure a lot of parties happened here, in your moments of loneliness such a bog space can be dreadful. Was it the reason why she brought him here? Because she was bored?

 

Though he rarely resorted to kidnapping, he knew how boredom could drive you insane. He saw the front door, it wasn’t locked, he could perfectly escape but he didn’t want it, this evening with Miss Adler promised to be interesting. He continued to explore the flat and entered Irene’s closet though it was too big to be called a closet. He saw all the outfits for her job; some were actually ridiculous to him, especially the SM ones. Some however were really erotic, those with laces being his favourites. He didn’t know why he liked laces so much, maybe because of his first girlfriend, Grace, a pretty red-head.

 

Neither Mycroft nor his parents knew about her. The first time they had been alone in her home (her parents had left for a romantic week-end), she had greeted him in a black nightgown with laces. Maybe he associated laces with the good memory of his first time. Most people he knew thought he was a virgin or just couldn’t imagine him with someone and it was true that Sherlock wasn’t very interested in sex, but he experienced it on some occasions, more out of curiosity than anything else. Maybe it was because Grace fascinated him at the time that he was demanding when it came to women. Irene was maybe the only one who outranked her in his eyes.

 

He exited the dressing room and was back in the living room when Irene went out of the bathroom, her hair down, slightly wet and wearing absolutely nothing. Sherlock was glad not to be a man right now because at least he wouldn’t have any embarrassing reaction. When he saw her naked the first time, he had found her attractive yet he was able to control his reaction, but now…She wasn’t wearing any make up, her hair were simply done, nothing superficial and she was simply gorgeous like this. She smiled in amusement.

 

“Wolf or man, I bet you are always very observant.”

 

He wouldn’t really deny that. Irene went to the kitchen, asking Sherlock if he was hungry, he followed her gladly, he was indeed hungry. When he saw her taking out raw steaks, his tail waived. She threw one at him, which he caught before it could hit the floor. Irene couldn’t help but feel slightly entranced at the sight of those fangs tearing the meat fiercely and felt a twinge of fear when she imagined herself being hunted down and devoured by wolves. She was glad that Sherlock had control of his self when he was a wolf or else he could have hurt or even killed her.

 

She suddenly wondered how it felt to eat a fresh kill, a beast you tracked down and killed with your own teeth. Why was she asking herself such questions? Maybe because she was a predator too somehow, she was close to this wolf. She looked at the second raw steak and thought about throwing it to Sherlock when she felt a strange want: she longed to take a bit. She had never eaten raw meat before and she was curious to taste it, to sink her teeth in it and tear down a piece of it. Almost instinctively she took it and brought it to her mouth.

 

When she did that Sherlock was utterly astonished and watched in fascination how she took a bit of meat and chewed it. Right now while naked without any make-up, her hair floating freely over her shoulder and back and chewing that meat, she didn’t look like the manipulative, refined dominatrix; she looked wild, almost wolfish, exploring her primitive side. She was sophisticated at the beginning of the evening and now she had transformed into this savage creature. It seemed that after all Irene was much more than a high-class woman. He liked that a lot.

 

Once she was done, she looked at what was left of the steak and seemed both confused and amazed at what he did.

 

“I think you are giving me weird ideas, dear. Though I must say it doesn’t really taste bad, quite weird but not bad. Did you ever kill an animal to feed yourself?”

 

Sherlock nodded, it happened once indeed.

 

“Really?! You’ll have to tell me how it feels when you got your tongue back.”

 

She took another bit tentatively and then threw the steak at Sherlock, watching again in fascination as he ate the meat. She crouched to him once he was finished and looked at him in the eyes. All her fear had vanished, and somehow she felt closer and closer to him, entranced by those eyes, by this magic he had inside him, and strangely right now as she was naked she felt almost similar to him, wild and free.

 

“You truly are something…”

 

With that she deposed a kiss between his eyes, feeling electricity and a strange shiver. Sherlock closed his eyes and obeying to a sudden want, pressed his head in the crook of her neck. She held his neck and hugged him, caressing him gently. They spent some times like this, Irene talking to him, caressing him or hugging him until she felt strangely sleepy. It was weird because it was only 9 PM and usually, she could easily stay up all night. Maybe it was because of the previous shock and all the emotions she felt since she saw him change. She went to her bed and collapsed on it, as if she was unable to stand, and felt strangely light and dizzy, as if she had taken a sleeping pill.

 

Sherlock climbed on the bed and watched her as she fell asleep. What was happening to her so suddenly? She was fine obviously, she was breathing normally and her heartbeat was normal. Sherlock laid next to her, deciding that he would stay at her side just in case. He eventually fell asleep, dreaming of a naked Irene, running in the woods.

 

The detective was woken up by the sun rise, when he felt his body contorting and taking his human form back. It was always a little painful but when he was taken away from sleep because of it, it was even more annoying. He groaned and stretched a little. He realised then that he was lying naked beside Irene who was still wearing strictly nothing. When the Woman opened her eyes, obviously woken by the noises he made, he made no move to leave. They didn’t even exchange a word as they began touch each others, it wasn’t needed. They just let their wants take over.

 

It was only after that, when they were lying on bed, panting, that they finally talk, Irene asking him questions, Sherlock answering the best he could.

 

“What are you exactly?”

 

“Not a werewolf, since I don’t go completely crazy for human flesh. I just transform in a wolf but I am still myself, even if I have appetite for raw meat and other little things like this.”

 

“What happened, did you got bitten?”

 

“No, it just happened when I was twenty, I don’t know why.”

 

“Okay…So when did you kill an animal to feed?”

 

He didn’t know why she was so interested, he just threw her a quizzical look and explained how once when he was in a village for a case, he transformed and killed a sheep in order to eat. It seemed to fascinate her. He left her flat only in the afternoon, and even if he wouldn’t admit it, he longed to stay. He had to go back in Baker Street, he had work to do and John could be worrying.

 

John had indeed tried to call him and wondered where he was, yet he hadn’t suspected that something potentially dangerous happened to him. Sherlock didn’t tell him what happened, that the Woman knew about his secret or what he did with her in the morning. In fact he just told John he had to go away. When the evening came, he transformed into a wolf again, that was no surprise for John and Sherlock. The surprise was when Sherlock suddenly heard scratching at the door downstairs. He yelped out to John, making him understand that he had to follow him. The doctor complied and heard a scratching and wondered what it was, he opened the door and with surprise he saw another grey wolf entering the flat quickly.

 

The doctor’s eyes widened when the other wolf moaned and groaned at Sherlock strangely, Sherlock did the same, it was as if they were talking but John couldn’t understand a thing. The wolves went upstairs and what seemed like a quarrel continued. John locked the door behind them, still confused and almost entranced at what he was watching. The wolf who just entered was a little smaller the Sherlock, and seemed agitated. Sherlock on his side was licking the other wolf’s face, as if he wanted to calm the animal down. It seemed to work, because soon the unknown wolf sat on the floor, looking at John then at Sherlock.

 

“What the hell is happening? Is that a…friend of yours?”

 

Sherlock looked at him, annoyed, as if he was saying: “seriously, I can’t talk!”

 

“You’ll tell me tomorrow, but seriously, next time when a friend of yours is coming, just tell me.”

 

The wolf didn’t seem to listen and they just went to Sherlock’s room, John heard groans when he approached so he decided to stay out of this. If he heard anything suspicious, he would go, otherwise he wouldn’t intervene. Meanwhile, in the room Sherlock was looking at the wolf, or more precisely at the she-wolf. They were now only communicating with their eyes and gestures but Sherlock didn’t need to know who this new-comer was; the only question was how Irene Adler suddenly changed into a wolf like him.

 

They were both lying on the bed, Irene now calmer, though still wondering how this happened. It had been quite a shock when she changed suddenly into a wolf, thankfully her assistant didn’t saw her. She had run right to Sherlock, sensing she had to join him and after all, he would understand what was happening. Now they were together, alone, and she admitted it was quite fascinating to be a wolf, to have a different eye sight, a different hearing, and to smell so many things! She could see the world in such a different way now, and it was such a delight to have the form of a beautiful predator. Yet, she still was a little angry at Sherlock, she was sure it was somehow his fault and even if she loved what was happening, it didn’t have advantages only. It had been quite hard to run through the streets without raising any suspicions, she had been careful to run in dark places, to keep her head down so people would think she was a dog and not a wolf.

 

Sherlock pressed his head against hers, as if saying that he understood what she was going through. In spite of her anger she responded, and soon enough, the two did again what they did in the morning.

 

They woke up in the morning when they took their human form back. Irene didn’t let Sherlock the time to talk.

 

“You are going to explain me everything.”

 

“There is nothing to explain, I don’t know why it happened to you.”

 

“What am I?!”

 

“I don’t know! Wait…Your eyes.”

 

“What my eyes?”

 

“Weren’t those green before?”

 

Irene went to the first mirror she could find and saw that her eyes indeed changed: instead of green, those were now silver grey, just like Sherlock.

 

“You got to be kidding! You’re fucking kidding me!”

 

Meanwhile, John was woken up by loud voices of people obviously going through a quarrel, he entered the living room to see Irene Adler in Sherlock’s wardrobe and his best friend dressed normally.

 

“Is it because we got sex? Is it some kind of STD?”

 

“No it’s not, in contrary to what you think, I got sex with other people before and none of them ever transformed!”

 

“Hum…Hello…”

 

The two noticed John and the Woman just said a quick hello to him before turning her attention back at Sherlock, being polite wasn’t really in her priorities. As for the detective, he wasn’t paying him any attention at all and continued to speak to Irene.

 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen and I don’t know why it’s happening,” Sherlock simply said. “Why are you taking it so bad?!”

 

Irene rolled her eyes, it seemed pretty logical to her.

 

“I would like you to remember that I am not even human anymore! I was before this!”

 

“You are human, you’re just different. You always were anyway, there is not a lot of women like you and you know it. Maybe that’s the real reason why you changed in the first place, not because we had sex.”

 

That was true and she knew it, when she changed in a she-wolf she actually felt like she had always been one and that she was finally taking her real appearance. Yet, it was still a problem.

 

“It’s not only that, with the work I do I can’t have this; some of my clients like to see me when the moon is full.”

 

“It’s not good for my work either but I don’t have the choice, and neither do you.”

 

At this Irene threw him a deadly look, obviously not happy with that answer. John took the occasion to speak again.

 

“Can you explain me?”

 

They both turned to him and told him everything that happened. John didn’t what was the worse, the fact that Irene kidnapped his best friend, the fact Sherlock changed before her or the fact she was changing now.

 

“Seriously that’s…Crazy!”

 

“Exactly,” Irene said.

 

“You seriously deserve it, that will serve you well for kidnapping people,” John huffed.

 

“I am not taking lessons from a soldier who probably did much worse.”

 

The argument went on until Irene finally accepted the fact that she wouldn’t escape that new change in her life. She called Kate and told her to bring new clothes, but she stayed in Baker Street for the rest of the day and until the next morning.

 

Quite surprisingly, she adapted well to that new aspect of her life. She wouldn’t receive any clients anymore during the nights of her transformation, no, those would be nights she would spend with Sherlock, her new lover/mate. Somehow, she was happy that finally she got one of her wish granted: she was now sharing something strong with Sherlock Holmes.