The Woman

[Jim/Irene]

crankinuptheevil:

thewomanwhobeatyou:

-Irene smiled at the consulting criminal, she was glad to be back on friendly terms with him and not have him want to kill her anymore. She was aware that he appreciated the wealth in her house and knew it was very much his style if he didn’t need to keep a low profile all the time-

Hello dear.

-She looked him up and down in slight surprise. He’d dressed down for her, simple jeans and a t-shirt, though she understood why. She supposed he had taken a normal London cab instead of getting one of his personal drivers to bring him here, so he was incognito right now then. Irene grinned at the look of approval she gained, she knew he liked order and neatness, demanded it even, so she always dressed up for him. Not only because he liked it, but also because it made her feel good too-

Oh, naturally, dear. I remember how you take your coffee.

-He noted the look of surprise in her eyes as she took in what was wearing and scowled slightly.-

As you can tell, I don’t particularly wish to be wearing these. But with all of the important assassinations coming up, I don’t want to risk a thing.

-His scowl replaced with a wide grin as Irene confirmed his favorite coffee was awaiting. He didn’t often indulge in drinking caffeine, but when he did he typically just went out to a corner cafe. Not even the best coffee in a cafe could match the taste of homemade coffee, something Jim hadn’t had for a long time. And Irene had been kind enough to make it for him- he wondered if she was aware he didn’t have it much, then immediately laughed at himself inwardly. He had seen how thorough she was with her research with the “Holmes Boys” so he didn’t doubt she knew.-  

-Irene nodded as the consulting criminal confirmed her suspicions as to his clothing choice-

I thought it must have been because you were going incognito, I know you’d never wear that out of choice. I may have a Westwood suit or two left from when you hid out here when your flat was being searched.

-Irene smiled at the wide grin from Jim, she knew he enjoyed homemade coffee and didn’t indulge in it often, and as it was a friendly visit, she had taken it upon herself to provide refreshments. She led Jim through to her living room and sat on her sofa carefully, taking the mocha from the table and debating which biscuits to nibble on, having carefully selected the ones that she knew were to the consulting criminals liking.