Irene Adler knew that she must be out of her mind. What on earth was she doing in the bathroom or 221B Baker Street taking the hairpins out of her long, brown curls and letting them fall down over her shoulders? Oh yes. Spending the night with Sherlock Holmes. That was it.

"Irene?"

"Coming."

She hastily did two tiny braids on either side of her head and secured them with a pin each. Then, she flicked the light switch off and tiptoed into Sherlock's room. Her long silk nightgown trailed across the floor gracefully. Sherlock smiled a small smile at her.

"You look like a fairy," he whispered.

Irene had to smile back. Sherlock seemed to lose some of his cold attitude when he was around her. She liked him more that way. She pulled the blankets back and crawled as quietly as possible in next to him. John wasn't to know that she was here. Sherlock pulled her close and Irene let her head fall onto his shoulder. Upon doing so, she happened to look outside.

"It's snowing!" she gasped delightedly.

"So it seems," he responded.

"Mind if I go outside for a quick peek?"

"Well..."

"Please?"

Irene gazed at Sherlock with large, pleading blue eyes. He eventually gave in.

"Alright."

But she had already gotten out of bed, grabbed Sherlock's coat, and left the room before he finished the word. Out his window, Sherlock saw Irene twirling through the snow with her arms outstretched and face turned towards heaven. The next thing Irene knew was that she was being lifted off the ground by the waist and kissed. She gasped, surprised, but had to laugh when she saw who it was.

"Sherlock!" she cried, punching his shoulder lightly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her waist and spun her slowly through the falling snow.

"Have you had enough yet?" he asked.

"No. But I'll go back inside with you."

Once inside, the two climbed back in bed cold and wet. Irene shivered and snuggled closer to Sherlock. He held her tightly.

"Goodnight Ms. Adler," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight Mr. Holmes," she replied, curling even closer to him.

Well, you can imagine John Watson's surprise the next morning when Sherlock wouldn't get up for breakfast (although it's not like he would eat anything anyways) and he found the two together, held tightly in each others arms.