ia-thewoman said: Kate. Christ. You appeared out of nowhere.
“Aye, s’pose I did. Y’got a place far a lass like me tae crash at?” She looked terribly thin, dark circles, gaunt features, and she was shaking despite the weather. “Only far a nigh’.”
Oh there you are, I’ve been trying to call you. I’m back, sweetheart. Which means back to business. Which means I need you…
Ach, back from the dead again, Miss Adlar? I’d not expect any less from ye. What sarts o’business we gettin’ in teh now, aye? Who’ve yeh got in mind far blackmail?
“….I did. Went back to Irelan’.” She didn’t look him in the eyes, arms crossed over her stomach. She looked up and then over his face. She reached to his hand and gripped it gently.
“… Oh.” He frowned slightly, slowly letting his fingers lace with hers as he looked down at their hands. “And, uh… Why didn’t you tell me? I thought… I don’t know.”
She shook her head and then shrugged, while looking down at their hands as well. “I ran.” Kate lifted the back of one hand and dabbed at her eye. She sniffed in and looked up. “I couldn’t tell you what happened.”
Irene’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and gloved hands fumbled around to pull it out quickly. With almost wide eyes, she read the text.
“I’ve missed you too”?
When had Irene texted Kate and said that she had missed her? When had Irene allowed her guard down so far as to actually give in and admit to such a—Oh. Yes. Now she remembered. It had been Christmas, around the time Sherlock had been blocking himself off more and more. She had been lonely, as much as she hated to admit to it. And she had remembered how she and Kate used to spend the holidays, and so she had texted her, and…
There it was. That was when she had texted her. Irene could have kicked herself for being so stupid as to actually allow her feelings to get the better of her in such a situation. She had given in and texted. her. Damn it.
Nevertheless, Irene couldn’t help but allow her gloved thumb to swipe over the surface of the screen before punching out a reply text.
[text] Where are you? -IA
A bemused smirk moved over her lips while Kate continued to observe the dominatrix. She was flustered. It was obvious with the tinge of rouge darkening her cheeks, a rare sight indeed. Kate had only seen Irene blush when they were alone, and they spoke to each other in a loving and caring manner. The redhead adored when she blushed, because it was just more evidence that Irene had a heart.
Feeling her phone buzz Kate looked down, then finally began to walk toward her through the crowded station. She peered down at her phone and then tapped out her reply.
[text] Closer than you think, mott. -KM
When she was around 10 feet away, Kate paused and watched her, air filling up her lungs and swelling her chest in anticipation.
Why had Irene come? /Why/? She was giving in yet again to old feelings, come back to Kate time and time again when she knew she shouldn’t. This time, Irene was standing at a train station, waiting impatiently for Kate. She was on edge, but excited.
She saw Irene before she saw Kate. With a soft smile she watched her for a moment. From what she could tell, she was eagerly looking for her. Irene hardly looked eagerly for anything. Kate could not help but smile at that. Licking her lips, she looked back down at the text again.
[text]I miss you - IA
Smirking, the redhead turned her back to Irene and ducked her head down a bit and typed back to the Woman.
[text] I’ve missed you too, Irene - KM
Kate turned slowly back around and looked up, swallowing while she watched her. It had only been three months, but it felt longer. God, she had it bad for this woman. For the woman.
She felt her phone beep, looking down at it with a confused expression. It was from Irene, but the date on the text was old. Around Christmas. She stared at it for a moment, not able to inhale or exhale. Finally she broke into a smile and stroked the screen with her thumb. She missed her. She thought about her while she was gone. So there was hope.
Kate looked up and around the train station, her face tucked into her scarf. Her hair, once again red, blew out over her face when a chilly gust of wind past through. She tucked it behind her ear and continued to look for Irene.
I think I’m done.
Apparently you’ve forgotten that I don’t abide being spoken to this way. Please remove yourself from my home.
Again, I pour m’self out tae ye, only t’fall on deaf ears. I receive not’ing but a cold, bitter heart. You ahr ice, Irene. A loveless, bitter woman. And I feel sorry far you.
-shakes her head and turns to walk out-
You’re the most ungrateful person I’ve ever met. Maybe if you could get anything through that thick skull of yours, things would have been different.
Ungrateful?! Feck off, I bent over backwards far ye! I would’ve crawled t’rough glass in th’scaldin’ hot sun jess t’sweat in yar feckin’ shadow! Y’were me warld, my stars! I was not’in but grateful! But aftar y’got what ye wan’ed from meh, y’were finished and y’expected me t’continue servin’ ye till th’day I died. Y’wan’tae talk about ungrateful, look in th’feckin’mirror!
And t’ings would’ve been different? Really?! Please, explain tae me jes what would’ve been different! Y’built me up tae fall, lass!