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Late Night Warning

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It was not known to many people that Irene had Mycroft’s phone number. It would make sense that she would; he would want to keep tabs on her, make sure her...activities, so to speak, were not going to cause problems for him or his brother, and he couldn’t always kidnap her off the street or from her home. Sometimes the hour was too late, and frankly, if Molly was in her bed she wouldn’t be all that inclined to leave it and she knew after their last face-to-face conversation that Mycroft would not consider having any conversations he needed to have in her private boudoir. There were, after all, things he preferred not to know, much to her surprise.

So when the ring tone that was familiar to her began to play in the silent room, she gently removed her arm from around Molly’s waist and went to pick up her mobile, noting that it had woken up Molly as well. “Yes, Mycroft?” she asked, his name coming out more as a yawn then she had intended.

“Tomorrow’s tabloid rags will be spilling the details on your relationship, as you call it, with Miss Hooper. I’m sure none of it will be factual.”

“I see,” Irene said, watching as Molly sat up, the sheet slipping down her chest a bit before she caught it. “How did you manage to miss this bit of salacious gossip before it went to press?”

“You are not the most pressing matter on my mind at the moment,” Mycroft snapped, and Irene blinked. Something had made him cross, apparently.

“My apologies,” she murmured.

She heard a sigh on his end. “Your reputation I could care less about. As Miss Hooper is a friend of Sherlock’s however, I would prefer hers not be in tatters by days end.”

“Mycroft, I’ve left the business. Well, the business of selling my body. And her Majesty is my only client for my secrets now,” she said, letting her finger trace a pattern on Molly’s hip. “But I do have enough clout and enough power at my fingertips to bring ruin to anyone who besmirches my lover’s reputation...whoever they are. You don’t need to get your hands dirty with this. We’ll be fine.” She pulled her mobile away from her ear and set it back on the nightstand before moving closer to Molly and kissing her bare shoulder. “How many people have you told about us?” She knew Molly had told at least a few people, even though, for her safety, they had decided to keep their relationship as quiet as possible. While most of her enemies were no longer a problem, not all of them had been so easily dispatched, and Irene had not wanted a target on Molly’s back any bigger than her relationship with Sherlock had given her.

Apparently, secrecy was no longer an option, so once she knew she could take other measures to make sure Molly and those she held dear were as safe as could be, mostly because she didn’t trust Mycroft to do the job right.

“Um...Sherlock knows, because of his brother,” Molly said, tilting her head to the side. “And my mum? She took it well, even considering she knew your reputation. I just said we were keeping things quiet for now and she said eventually she’d like to meet you, but it could wait. The rest of my family, they don’t know.”

“They will after this morning,” Irene said, setting her chin on Molly’s shoulder. “If the bastard was still alive I would say Charles Augustus Magnussen was behind it, but I can think of one or two others who would love to have a reason to take me down a notch or two, and they don’t care who they drag down with me.”

“Does it matter, though?” Molly asked, gently nudging Irene’s chin off of her shoulder and turning her body to face her. Irene gave her a thoughtful look. “I mean, I can call my brothers. They might not appreciate an early morning call but I know they’d appreciate hearing it from their little sister as opposed to having someone make it the butt of a joke towards them. And Mary and John are probably up with the baby, and Meena was out with the girls and Greg had a late shift tonight, I think, which means Sally does too, and--”

Irene leaned forward and kissed her softly, feeling an overwhelming sense of love bubble up inside her. She had expected this to be something that would ruffle even Molly’s unrufflable feathers, to have her privacy invaded and her name besmirched with what she was sure was nothing but lies. In a matter of hours, everyone in the whole of England was going to know the two of them were intimately involved. And here she was, trying to sort out who to call and tell the news to so she could let those she cared about know that she was dating her before they were exposed to the lies, let them know on her terms and not the tabloids. She wasn’t ashamed to be the lover of The Woman.

Perhaps because she was so much more than that.

Perhaps because Irene Adler loved this woman more than anyone in the world.

When she ended the kiss she gestured to the phone. “You make your calls, and if you need me to step in, let me know. I have calls of my own to make.”

“To whom?” Molly asked, letting the sheet fall before she got out of bed to go towards where her dressing gown was.

Irene took a moment to appreciate the view of her girlfriend’s naked body in the moonlit room. “I want to find out who is publishing the story and what’s in it,” she said. “And I have a few contacts of my own that are going to get a late night call whether they like it or not.” She reached back over for her mobile and thought for a moment about where to start. She knew today was going to be a long day for the both of them, but hopefully the worst of it could be headed off before any real damage happened.