Catfight {Susanna}

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I sense a heaviness in the bed and shift around as I come to. Noticing that the weight is emitting heat, I scrunch up and growl, "Miss Adler, I did not give you permission to come in and use my bedroom."

"You punched me in the jaw when I first came in-"

"Because you touched me!" I hiss and open my eyes, bolting upright to see Irene laying on the bed beside me, barely covered in the blankets. She smirks and I groan, "I gave you the guest bedroom not my bed, Miss Adler."

"It was cold and I was curious."

"About what?"

"How you sleep, of course." I glare at her and she reconsiders her actions, visibly affected.

"I gave you the guest room. Turn up the heat a bit if you're too cold."

"Couldn't find the thermostat." I mumble and restrain myself from attacking this woman. So I look at the time. 0100. Three hours before I need to actually get up. Awesome.

"It's by the door, Miss Adler. Turn it up one degree and go back to the guest bedroom."

"You know, you're one of the most interesting sleepers I've come across."

"I don't care. Get out." This time I roll out of the bed and stand up to my full height, for all my 5 foot three inches is worth, and assume a powerful stance.

"You're a dominant alpha female, that's for sure."

"Yes, I am. Get out of my bed before I call the police."

"Must be part of why Sherlock likes you so much. He likes strong, intelligent, clever women."

"Miss Adler, I'm going to take this matter into my own hands in one minute if you do not extricate yourself from my quarters." Despite my warning, she smirks mischievously.

"Show me what you're made of then. I love a good catfight." I glower, wait the exact one minute and then I round the corner of the bed.

"Alright, Miss Adler. You were forewarned." I hum and dive for her. I toss her over and grab her arms, yanking her off the bed in one swift motion. Once we're both on our feet she produces a riding crop and I duck as she moves to strike.

"You're quite fast, darling." She chuckles, swinging again. I dodge again and then lunge forward, knocking her to the floor.

From there we wrestle our way slowly to the living room, where I'm able to retrieve the set of cuffs that Sherlock gave me. I pin her arms behind her back and secure them tightly, then push her into the loveseat, "You can sleep here for two more hours."

"You'd better look at yourself, dear. I think I've made a couple marks on your pretty face." I glare and she shuts up.

"I could not care less. They will heal." I reply and head back to the bedroom to try and get another two hours of sleep. But I only catch a few winks before my alarms go off and I groan, getting up to shower and dress. I dress in black leather pants and a long sleeved v neck shirt, with black knee high thick heeled boots and my biker jacket. I do my hair in a ponytail braid and then walk down the hallway. Irene is sitting on the loveseat patiently, with an incredulous look on her face.

"Sherlock will certainly wonder what happened."

"If you want a decent breakfast, shut up." I order and she simpers. I whip up a light breakfast and unlock her cuffs so that she can eat. She does so quietly and delicately.

"Well there's another thing you best me at."

"Hm?"

"You're a much better chef. I'd even consider hiring you as my personal cook." I smile dangerously.

"Not interested, but thanks anyway." She laughs.

"I like you, Susanna. You're fun."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a curious thing, you know."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I finish washing up the dishes and head back to the bedroom. I get her phone and her clothes. She accepts them and only takes a few minutes getting ready, "Come on. I bet you're wanting to see Sherlock."

"I thought you'd want me out of the picture."

"I just want you out of my flat right now." She tsks and puts on her shoes.

In due time we arrive at 221 Baker Street by taxi. I exhale and trudge up the stairs to 221B, followed by Irene. Upon my entry, John looks up first and pales, "What in the wor-! Susanna, are you alright?" This stirs Sherlock from his chair and the detective leaps to his feet, turning to face me.

"What happened, Susanna?" He demands, striding across the room and cupping my face, "Who?!"

Irene pops in, "Hello, Sherlock."

His face darkens, "You did this to Susanna."

"Yes we may have had a bit of a catfight. In her defense, I provoked it."

"You marched into my flat and then got into my bed. I warned you before I forcefully removed you from the bedroom."

"I was curious." She hums. Sherlock gives her a glare and then pulls me down the hallway to the bathroom.

"Sherlock-"

"We need to clean those. Come on." He has me sit on the counter and pulls out the first aid kit.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. You're exhausted and wounded, not to mention agitated. Why did you let her in?"

"It was a one time deal and I wanted to tweak a few things on her phone, to return the favor." He pauses and then smirks smugly.

"Naughty girl."

"If I'm not naughty every once in a while, life would be dull. I even used the cuffs."

By the time we're done, Irene's given us the slip and left a note about how she had to run and that she approves of me. At that point Sherlock tells me to catch some sleep on the sofa and calls Mycroft to update him, "I doubt she'll cause trouble again. Rest."

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