Hello, this is my first fic on here! After watching the brilliant Sherlock on TV, I decided to write my own fic and bring in the great Irene Adler and make her developed - I mean, she was only in one story and it's not like she said or did much. I hope I've made her believable as a character, though she is not quite fleshed out yet, but it's hard in the first chapter when I'm establishing the story line instead. I hope you'll enjoy and please review if you liked it or have any suggestions and constructive criticism!

She was standing, half-scared, half-confident, in a darkened, deserted car park. It hadn't been used for years by the looks of it; she could see a few rats scurrying along by the corners and she could hear the smashed window frames groaning as the wind rushed past them. It was cold, the middle of March, and she hugged her arms around her body as she shivered slightly. Her heavy bag of books and unfinished essays sat by her feet - she didn't have the strength to carry it. She took one look at her watch and called out impatiently.

"Mr Moriarty?"

There was a long, chilling silence. She called out again.

"Look, I haven't got long. I need to get back…"

There. She saw him. Well, his silhouette and his shadow on the floor. He was far from her, yet she knew it was him. He always turned up like that, almost unnoticed but dramatic, just like his persona.

"Ah, Miss Adler. Early today, aren't you?" She shuddered at his sneering voice. It was so cold, so heartless.

"No." She said defensively, "I'm right on time. Eight in the evening, just like you said." Moriarty was nearing her, taking slow but confident footsteps, each one growing louder and louder. She could see his face now. A kind, nice-looking face, but his character did not suit it. He was far from kind, "What did you want this time?"

"I need some information."

"Can you not get it yourself?" She answered back quickly. Moriarty laughed mockingly and she stopped eye-contact. She knew he had already won, but she still continued. "Sir, you have eyes and ears everywhere. Why me?"

He came up close to her, but she backed away. Grabbing her hand forcefully, he whispered in her ear, "I like you Irene."

"That's not a very good reason." She whispered back mockingly. She closed her eyes at the sound of his low, patronizing laugh.

"Everyone knows you're the best."

"I don't think flattery works, you know." Again, he laughed, and she turned her head away from him, not wishing to be there any longer than she had to.

"How much do you want?" The money bribe. Tempting, she thought.

"How much are you willing to give me?" He smiled. He was getting there.

"Oh, I don't know, would a couple of thousand do the trick?" He let her think for a few moments. The idea of money for a university student was like giving food to the homeless. They loved it. Moriarty saw Irene less tense now, and he knew she had taken the offer. She didn't even have to say anything. "I think you'll like this person, Irene. He's on the same level as us," He smirked and added, "Intellectually, of course."

"And why information? If he's, as you say, on the same level as us, then why do you need me to get information from him?"

He sighed impatiently. "Irene, you know, for someone so bright, I don't know how you can overlook the obvious sometimes." Irene gave him an icy look. She hated being undermined. Especially by him. "We work in different circles - "

She cut him off, "Oh, you mean, you're enemies?"

"Yes, I suppose you could put it that way!" Moriarty looked rather pleased at the prospect of having an enemy as clever (or almost) as him. He quickly snapped back into his serious mode though, much to Irene's displeasure. "His name is Sherlock Holmes. He's a consulting detective - "

"A consulting detective?" She looked at him quizzically, yet sarcastically at the same time. She'd never heard of such a profession before.

"Don't interrupt, Irene. You know what happens to people who interrupt me." She didn't, but she could take a guess and it would probably be right. Moriarty carried on, "He is a consulting detective and often works with the police, but only on cases that are out of the ordinary. He likes a challenge, a good puzzle. He finds them fun. A bit like me, I suppose. I have a client," Irene rolled her eyes. That's how Moriarty worked. People came to him, the criminal mastermind, to 'get rid of people' they didn't like, "A man who's on the list to gain quite a large inheritance. But not first on that list." Irene knew exactly what this was coming to, but why did she have to be involved?

"So, basically, he wants you to get rid of their rich, dying parent or grandparent or cousin or great-aunt and everyone else who's set to receive inheritance from this person so he can get it instead." She laughed, despite the sinister situation she was in, "This is all very murder-mystery, isn't it? Don't you think someone might get a little suspicious?"

"Yes. But only Sherlock Holmes. He loves a good murder. He'll be drawn to it when he sees the deaths in the paper," Moriarty saw doubt on her face, "But don't worry, Irene, I'll make it a fun set of murders. A challenging set of murders. He won't know what's hit him."

"Excuse me, Sir, but what exactly do I have to do with all of this?" She didn't get it. Yes, this Sherlock Holmes person will investigate Moriarty's impossible murders, but why did she need to be involved? Did she really need to be dragged over to a deserted car park on the outskirts of central London?

"I like to see how he's doing. I'd like to see how much of a challenge it is for him. Irene, last time I set him some challenges, I never got to see how he did it. Which is a shame, I think. I need you to watch him, get to know him, get him to open up to you." He could tell she wasn't convinced, and he sighed heavily, "Look, you get me information on Sherlock Holmes, I'll be happy and I'll give you money. Got it?"

She nodded cautiously and Moriarty smiled.

"Good!" He clapped his hands together and gave her a big smile, "I must warn you that he likes to, er, what's the word?" Irene stared blankly at him as he struggled for the right wording, "Deduce. That's the word. He likes to deduce people, so don't let him know anything we don't want him to know."

"And where do you expect me to find this man then?" He seemed to have told her every detail but that.

"221b Baker Street. I'll leave you to work out how you'll meet him inconspicuously."

"Great. Thanks." Irene muttered under her breath coldly. She was ready to leave and her hand was already reaching for her bag.

"Oh, and his friend, John Watson. Don't bother with him. He won't give you any worthwhile information. He lives with Holmes, and he seems to like getting involved in Holmes' cases, but he's pretty useless." Irene nodded, "You can go now."

Irene grabbed her bag and turned, her footsteps echoing throughout the car park. It was too cold to be going to Baker Street today; she would sleep on it and visit the mysterious Sherlock Holmes tomorrow. Moriarty was far away now, but she heard him shout out to her.

"Don't get too attached!"

I hope you enjoyed reading! Hopefully I'll update in the next few days if people liked the start!