This is my first fanfic. Just my idea on what happened between Sherlock and Irene on that night in Karachi. P.S. The idea about Mycroft helping was somehow my brother's.

One quiet afternoon, while silently lying on the couch, Sherlock Holmes had his eyes shut, slowly wandering in the depths of his mind palace. Deleting the unnecessary was his procedure after something becomes irrelevant. Almost everything is irrelevant. There are only a few things in the world that he deemed important to keep in his hard drive.

If there was one thing he can't delete, it was the memory of her—-the woman. It was not because of love, for he, of all people, knows that sentiment is a disadvantage. It was more of an epiphany that even the great Sherlock Holmes can be almost beaten.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

"Who is it now?!" Sherlock hissed as he reached for his mobile phone.

"Sherlock. I have some news." said Mycroft on the other line. "It's about Irene Adler."

"You've made it clear, Mycroft. I have nothing to do with her anymore. What makes you think I'm of interest to her now?" Sherlock replied.

"Well then. I guess you wouldn't want to know that she was being held captive in a terrorist cell in Karachi." Mycroft mused, with a tone of superiority.

Sherlock remained silent, his thoughts unclear. What is Mycroft trying to get out of him? A reaction? A show of care? Clearly he must be playing him.

On the other hand, he thought of Irene Adler. She was smart… An equal. He owed her the great pleasure of a great mind game to which he almost lost.

"Well Sherlock. I guess you dozed on me again. I'm hanging up."

"Mycroft." Sherlock replied, his tone almost hesitant. "Surely you can fly me there immediately."

Mycroft laughed on the other end of the line. "Is this caring Sherlock? Like Redbeard all over again?"

"Don't mock me, Mycroft. Can you fly me there or not?" Sherlock bellowed.

"Yes, Sherlock. I can."

"When I say run… RUN!" Sherlock breathed.

With Mycroft's help, Sherlock fought off the terrorists setting Irene free.

"You can't hold all of them off. Go ahead and run after her." Mycroft whispered in Sherlock's earpiece. "I'll have my people take care of the rest."

After catching his breath, Sherlock saw Irene Adler watching him from the corner of the street.

"Well, Mr. Holmes. You came to my rescue just right after I bid you goodbye." Irene purred.

Sherlock went to her side and nodded. "I found a place for you to stay for the mean time. Follow me."

As they walked down the street, Sherlock noticed that Irene Adler kept on glancing at him. When they reached the hotel Mycroft has arranged for them, Sherlock brought Irene to her room.

"Good night, Ms. Adler."

"Wait." Irene called, reaching for Sherlock. "Can we talk?"

Sherlock stared at her for a moment, noticing her trembling hands, her nails chipped and cracked which may indicate that she has struggled to get free for days. Her eyes are swollen and had dark shadows indicating at least two days of sleeplessness. He remembered how he found out that Irene Adler fancies him and how he figured what she means when she asked him to have dinner.

"I… What do you want from me?" he mumbled.

She opened the hotel door and motioned for them to come inside. Sherlock followed.

Irene sat on the bed and Sherlock slumped on the couch across her.

"You must be tired. I'll leave you to rest."

"Mr. Holmes. About… the last time we saw each other. I… I'm…" Irene uttered.

Sherlock stared at her, "Ms. Adler, I told you, sentiment is found on the losing side. You don't want to lose twice now do you? That's in the past now. Good night."

Irene smiled, shaking her head. "What do you say about dinner?"

"I came here to make sure you live. Not… to have dinner."

Irene laughed and reached for Sherlock's hand. "I mean real dinner. I'm famished. Would you join me?"

Despite everything, Sherlock smiled. "I'll call for room service."

As Sherlock sat on the couch, apparently lost in his thoughts again, Irene Adler watched him intently. She laughed when Sherlock almost jumped when room service knocked on their door.

As they eat, Sherlock glanced at Irene, and he saw how she can't seem to wipe the smile off her face. Irene looked up at him and sighed.

"Will I see you again, Mr. Holmes?" she asked, running the fork slightly along her lips.

Sherlock stared at her, thinking of a response. He was not sure where Mycroft would take her after tonight and he was unsure, for the first time, if he wanted to cross paths with Irene Adler again. He just averted his stare back to his food and continued eating.

As they finished, Sherlock stood up and walked to the door. Irene followed him as he stepped to the corridor and reached for his shoulder.

"Mr. Holmes. Please take care of my heart." she called.

Sherlock turned around and as he did, Irene planted a slight kiss to his lips. "Until we meet again." she whispered as she turned away and closed the door to his face.

Mycroft told Sherlock that he will send a message to him to let him know where he will send Irene Adler for safety. Sherlock just walked away from him and shook Irene Adler from his mind.

A few months later, she was again mentioned by John. According to him, Mycroft has spilled the news. Sherlock sensed that his brother gave John a false story about The Woman, seeing how hesitant he seemed at the moment to tell him the news. However, he also knows that Mycroft is smart and that the false story is actually the true story. That whatever Mycroft had John tell him works as reverse psychology. He almost smiled at Mycroft's method of delivering him the information.

"She's in America. Mmm-hmm. Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently. Dunno how she swung it, but, er, well, you know." said John.

"I know what?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, you won't be able to see her again."

"Why would I want to see her again?" Sherlock replied and biting his tongue as he did. John didn't mention anything about wanting…

"Didn't say you did." John muttered, a smile creeping up his face.

"Is that her file?" Sherlock asked, noticing the bundle in John's hand.

"Yes. I was just gonna take it back to Mycroft. Do you want to…?" John offered.

To show his indifference towards Irene Adler, he sat back down and continued looking into the microscope. "No."

"Listen, actually …" John mused.

'Please take care of my heart' Irene had said. It was a puzzle, Sherlock thought. She was talking about the mobile phone. How silly of him to think otherwise. "Oh, but I will have the camera phone, though." he told John.

He held out his hand towards John, not lifting his gaze from his work to not raise any suspicions from his friend.

"There's nothing on it any more. It's been stripped." John announced.

"I know, but I …" Sherlock pondered on it. If Irene Adler and his paths cross again, he would like to give her mobile phone back to her as his salute. His… promise to her.

"I'll still have it." Sherlock continued.

"I've gotta give this back to Mycroft. You can't keep it. Sherlock, I have to give this to Mycroft. It's the government's now. I couldn't even give …" John cried.

"Please." Sherlock muttered.

As John gave him the phone, he asked if Irene Adler ever texted him again after the mobile phone confrontation.

"What did she say?" John asked.

"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock replied.

As John walked out, Sherlock crossed his room scrolling over his mobile phone and checks the stack of Irene Adler's messages to him. As he recall that night in Karachi, he smiled at the thought, chuckled even, at the memory of her.

Knowing that she is still alive, his mind burst with the thought of meeting her again to continue the charade they're playing. A game of mind and emotions that he found enticing.

He caught himself whispering to himself that she is indeed The Woman who made him think that sentiment is not at all dangerous if such wit is applied. He took one last look at her Vertu phone and locked it in his desk drawer, tucking away the memory of her to await their next meeting.