A/N: Story is set pre-season 3. This story will contain some slash and a little femslash (though I don't usually write much smut and won't include it on fanfiction if I do...see AO3 for that), so if that bothers you please just leave now. Otherwise, warnings will come if any other questionable material comes up. I'll rate this M just in case.

"We're not a couple."

"Yes you are."

-A Scandal in Belgravia

Irene Adler had to admit she was intrigued by the prospect of meeting Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective, he'd made an impression on her just from his newly famed reputation. Though she became even more intrigued when she received photos of him just a few hours prior to meeting him. He had some level of attractiveness to him, if one went for that sort of thing. Defined cheekbones and stormy gray eyes. Tall and slim. His stern gaze spoke of a man who would be a challenge to break. And she liked nothing better than a challenge.

She generally found herself more inclined towards the fairer sex, but that didn't mean she hadn't found men who interested or attracted her. To define sexuality was to limit sexuality. And limits were really only something Irene needed in bed, and even those were meant to be tested.

But Sherlock Holmes was intriguing for more reasons than mere reputation, or even interesting appearance. As she decided to run a search for more pictures, she found something that fascinated her even more. What truly struck Irene was his smile as he looked towards his little tagalong partner in one of their photos.

John Hamish Watson. Him she'd known very little about, other than the fact that his blog was part of what had inspired some of the mass following of Sherlock. She'd looked over the little website herself. Nothing spectacular. But nonetheless intriguing.

What very few knew about Irene, was she had an intense interest in gay men. While a man at her control was interesting, she grew weak at the knees watching two men submit to one another. There was such a fascinating power dynamic, and it worked so well. Kate was well aware of this of course, often finding her gay erotica in her spare time.

But looking between the two men in the photos gave Irene chills. Until meeting Watson, Sherlock had lived alone, no friends, no real acquaintances. But something had changed when he began spending time with the doctor. Irene's fantasies were only able to run wild with ideas. There had been rumors of course, but here seeing living proof before her eyes, Irene was convinced. Even if the two didn't know it yet, there was a level of chemical attraction that made them just right.

Ah, she'd have them both then. Watch the two of them on a bed, enjoy seeing who won out in dominance, who was the first to break and beg. Two worthy pets for her to play with and enjoy in her own way.

Hmm, but she couldn't be obvious. No. That wouldn't do. Better to test the waters a little, play with them both. Better to see just how confused and riled up she could get them.

Unable to restrain a heady sigh, Irene turned back to Kate, deciding it was time to get ready.

John was still trying to process everything that had happened over the course of the day. Sherlock sitting in Buckingham Palace wearing only a sheet, Sherlock disguising himself to go meet Irene Addler, or The Woman, or whatever the hell she was supposed to be called. And then being allowed to punch Sherlock in the face. What a day.

But what he was truly unprepared for, was to return from grabbing something to clean Sherlock's wounds, and find Irene Adler completely naked, waiting for them in her sitting room as though nudity was the new black.

What the—John froze up, staring at her first, then at Sherlock who looked completely puzzled, sitting there now without his costume, coat lying to the side. Irene's lipstick covered lips turned up at the corners, eyes staring at him almost hungrily. He didn't know where to look so he settled for staring at Sherlock.

The two chatted while he stood there feeling awkward, unsure what to really do. He couldn't focus on their conversation, until something Irene said caught his attention

"Oh and somebody loves you," Irene purred, batting her eyelashes at the both of them.

What? Hold on. John blinked a few times, confused. Where had she gotten that? He glanced towards Sherlock who wasn't giving any indication the statement had bothered him.

Irene settled back in her chair again, eyes flashing between the two of them. Her smile had only grown in the last minute, but thankfully she did clarify what she meant.

"Why, if I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth too."

Feeling even more uncomfortable, John made the suggestion of putting something on, laughing to attempt to cover up his confusion.

Adler's eyes fixed on him. "Oh, no denials then? Well well, I knew I had it right. And why must I put something on. What's the matter? Feeling exposed?"

"Deny what?" John asked, swallowing as he tried again to find somewhere to settle his eyes. Sherlock was the best option.

"Deny that you love him of course," Adler rose to her feet and sashayed over to John, causing him to have to try desperately to maintain eye contact.

"Of course I wasn't going to punch his nose or mouth," John said, glancing back over at Sherlock. "But that doesn't mean I love him…I mean at least if you're er…talking romantically or anything. I know people keep thinking we're a couple but we're not."

"Yes you are," Irene Adler said, full red lips forming an even larger smile.

"We're really not," John said. "Erm…I'm going to go tend to Sherlock now if that's alright…you know in a…non gay sort of way…"

He avoided looking at her as he walked over to where Sherlock was sitting, moving onto the couch next to him, and tilting his face to get a better look at the damage he'd done.

"Why don't you prove it then?" Irene said with a smirk.

"For the love of—how do you prove you don't love someone?" John muttered.

"Show there's no attraction. For example…kiss," Irene's eyes glittered as she stared at the two of them. John shifted in his seat, Sherlock was busy staring at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Er…" John looked from Sherlock to Irene, only to remember she was naked and quickly try to avert his eyes. "We're not doing that. Sorry."

"No proof then," Irene said with a smirk. "Well alright. And here I was thinking about making a little wager."

"What kind?" Sherlock asked.

"Mmm…the kind where I tell you where I give access to my photographs if you give me access to…information…quell my curiosity about the two of you if you will."

"All we have to do is kiss to be allowed the photographs?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I don't quite believe you."

"Oh of course, that's a little too simple isn't it? How about if you kiss I'll give you a hint."

"I don't need a hint to know they are in this room," Sherlock said.

"But you'll need a hint to know any more than that," Irene said with a smirk. "Come, just a little kiss."

John kept shifting back and forth on the couch, trying to find the ideal place to put his hands and finally just settling for crossing his arms.

Sherlock in the meantime remained still, gazing around the room and then back at Irene, only to become more puzzled. Finally his attention settled on John.

"She has a point. It is just a kiss."

"Just a—Sherlock are you mad? Seriously! I'm not gay. Nor are you Mr. I'm-married-to-my-work. For heaven's sake, Sherlock—"

"Oh do shut up, John," Sherlock muttered. "Any specifics on the kiss?"

Her grin widened. "Oh let's just say…ten seconds or more? Not too hard is that?"

Sherlock shrugged and reached out to put a hand to John's face. The doctor froze up, staring at the detective.

"Sherlock, what the bloody hell are you doing we're not—"

"Ten seconds," Sherlock said. "You'll survive."

And then he leaned in and gently placed his lips to John's.

There was a second of shock for the doctor. He froze up, stiffened as his colleague, his flat mate, his friend placed a soft yet insistent kiss to his mouth. It's just like kissing a girl, he tried to tell himself. His eyes shut, and he tried to imagine it was his last girlfriend he was kissing instead of Sherlock. But even the fantasy was not enough to destroy the reality.

These were Sherlock's lips touching his. This was Sherlock's more bristly upper lip, his longer nose that bumped against John's in an awkward adjustment of placement. This was Sherlock's slightly less practiced mouth opening ever so slightly, hinting at tongue contact that had John's breath catching… wait hold up—

John hoped dearly that ten seconds had passed as he jerked away from Sherlock, moving a hand up to cover his newly freed mouth, trying hard to process what he'd just been thinking. Had he thought snogging would be…arousing? No, hardly. This was…weird. John shook his head and glanced back at Irene who had her head cocked but was still smiling.

"There now, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"The hint then if you please," Sherlock said. He too had moved a hand up to his mouth, though only to brush a knuckle over his lips. John studied him a moment, wondering what that meant. Had he found it disgusting? Was he reminiscing what it felt like? Sherlock seemed practically asexual. Even now he didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by Irene's nudity, eyes fixed on hers rather than anything else. John shifted his gaze on the floor. Too much temptation in one room…too much confusion.

"The safe is over there. I've already given you the combination," Irene said, nodding towards the mantle.

John looked towards it, and then at Sherlock whose eyes seemed to have started glowing, a smile playing on those lips as he studied the space. A smile really did look so good on his lips—John cut off his thoughts with an angry shake of his head.

Thankfully, his thoughts were put to a stop as the door suddenly opened and men with guns barged in. Sherlock rose to his feet, but there was nothing they could do. The men demanded he open the safe for them since he knew the combination. John watched in astonishment as they threatened him. But he noticed Irene's eyes glint as the gun was placed to his head.

"If you don't I'll have Dr. Watson shot in the head. Don't want that now, do you?"

"That's unnecessary, she hasn't given me any code. I suggest you ask her if you want it."

The man shook his head. "Can't trust her. You have three seconds Mr. Holmes. Open the safe."

John held his breath as a count began. Sherlock glanced at him, and John caught just a flash of panic in his eyes. No, that wasn't good. Not for him.

"Think," Irene said, and then winked.

He glanced towards her, brow furrowing even as the countdown finished. John readied himself for pain…for the bullet to pierce his skull.

"No. Wait. I have it." Sherlock walked over and typed in the numbers. He called out behind him, and John figured it just in time, ducking down even as a gun went off. Sherlock and he had little trouble subduing the men. Irene Adler was glowing by the time they were finished.

"Well done, I'm thoroughly impressed. You're quite observant."

John looked between the two of them, though Sherlock wasn't looking at Irene.

"Of course, your measurements, how unoriginal."

"It took you long enough to get them," Irene said, she stretched out, showing off just a bit more. "I really did think you hadn't noticed. So good you did for Dr. Watson's sake." She looked towards him smiling. "Perhaps some of that love is returned at least."

"Stop babbling nonsense." Sherlock grabbed for the phone, looking it over, examining every inch. "John, go call the police."

John sighed and grabbed his phone, walking out the door into the hallway to make the call. He caught sight of Kate stretched out to the side and paused to check. She was still alive, only unconscious. Satisfied with that he turned back to making the call.

He gave the pertinent information before returning to the sitting room. And that was when he found Sherlock slumped on the floor, Irene standing over him smiling.

"Oh don't worry, just a bit of something to make him sleep." She turned to leave, but John caught her arm.

"What did you give him?"

"I don't think that's really your concern. You can go play nursemaid to him for a few hours. He'll be fine by next morning." She smiled and reached a hand to brush his cheek. John drew back, flinching away.

"Stop it," he hissed.

"Hmm…but you don't flinch from his touch. No… well I'll leave you to see to him then. Don't worry, Dr. Watson. We'll see each other again soon enough. I'd almost count on it."

His attention was drawn back to Sherlock who apparently was still semi-coherent. He was trying to get up, likely to hurt himself at that rate. John hastened over to keep him down, even as he realized looking up again, that Irene Adler had just made a very thorough and perfect escape.

"They really fell for it?" Kate asked later that evening, now that they were settled in their new safe house. "And you went to drop off his coat and everything?"

"Mmm yes. And it gave me a chance to slip the cameras in too," Irene said, licking her lips as she stared at her computer screen, admiring the various angles of the flat, the possibilities of all the dirty things she could catch for her viewing pleasure.

"You really think they'll do something?" Kate asked, leaning closer.

"Oh certainly." Irene gave a smirk. "There were sparks on that kiss, Kate. Let me tell you. John Watson's face, priceless. Sherlock tried to close himself off, but he looked towards the good doctor one time to many after. Yes, they're well on their way. And I'll play a few other games to solidify it."

"Sounds nice. But how about we play a few games of our own," Kate whispered, licking along the shell of her ear.

Momentarily distracted from the thought of her two boys playing, Irene smiled and turned to catch Kate in a soft kiss.

"Get ready for me, darling," she whispered as she pulled back.

"Yes mistress," Kate sighed, settling back on the pillows even as Irene's gaze drifted back towards the screen. This was too good. Simply too good.

A/N: Please review. I'm not sure if I'll actually write anymore, so if you want more please let me know.