Author's Note: This idea just kinda popped into my head shortly after watching the movie.

Disclaimer: I'll follow suit. These wonderful characters are most certainly not mine.

But you already knew that.

"You can't catch me, Holmes."

"Let her go, Moriarty."

He pushed the knife deeper into her neck, tilting it to show Holmes the small trickle running down it.

"Sherlock – "

"Shut up, girl. I could throw it at him." The momentary aggravation was replaced with fear. "And you wouldn't like that, would you, dear," James chided coolly.

Inches away from death, neither lover wasted precious seconds hiding what they felt anymore.

"Moriarty, the inspector is on his way. I suggest you unhand Miss Adler before the authorities count it against you."

"And who says we'll ever get to court? You forget, Holmes, that we are standing at the foot of a cliff. You also have momentarily forgotten that I have muscles in my arms that could decide just to… jerk… (He swung his captive playfully, she gasping in fear before both feet were on the ground again.) And bring a particularly nasty fate to …Isabella, is it?"

"My name's Irene. Don't forget it."

She never changes, thought Holmes with a sigh. Not even in the face of death.

"Soon, it may not matter. Except maybe to identify the body. Unless, of course, Holmes gives me the black pendant."

"I told you, I don't have it!"

"Really? I'd like to frisk you, but, alas, our…victim…may feel the need to escape if I do. Oh, well. We'll tango later, Holmes. I must flee, I hear the police."

"Wait-"

"I'll see you at the bottom, Iris. Just kidding, Irene. Have a nice… fall!"

(*Yeah, corny, I know. Ignore that please*)

And with that, Irene was flung off the edge of the cliff as Moriarty ran for the forest. Holmes, who had begun his sprinting before James had finished speaking, was just able to catch her hand.

She screamed, a very un-Ireneish thing to do.

Their grip was awkward, because their hands were opposites.

She began to slip away from his fingertips.

"Oh my god, I'm falling… I'm going to die…"

"No. No one's going to die.

"How can you say that when I'm inches away from falling to my death?"

"I admit, it is a bit of a stretch…"

"Speaking of stretches, my arm is… ow…" Irene moaned, her arm not used to such abuse.

"Just… hang on," he said desperately, his mind starting to form a risky plan.

"Oh, I was actually considering letting go," she said, heavy sarcasm dripping from her lips.

"This is no time for games," he said softly, bringing her up ever so slightly, bending his elbow just a tad.

"You're right, it isn't," she said equally, suddenly knowing the last thing she had to do before she died.

He saw it in her eyes, and fought down an amused smile. The risk was blinding her! She couldn't see what he was doing… oh, how smug he felt then, having finally bested his equal… in more ways than one…

Their fingertips were closer, sliding toward each other.

His eyes reflected hers.

There were only mere seconds left…

"I love you," she whispered as their fingers brushed for the… you didn't think it would be the last time, did you? I told you he had a plan… one that, despite her criminal abilities, she somehow failed to notice.

Remember how he was slowly bringing her up, bending his elbow? That was to give himself slack, so that when she did fall, he could easily reach out and catch her wrist if he lunged fast enough.

Which he did.

"You didn't really think I'd let you fall, did you?" he said, that amused smile playing with his lips.

Her mouth was open as she cursed herself out in ways I cannot write here.

She stared into his blue eyes as they neared hers.

His expression turned into one of awe, of wonder, of… confusion.

Her feet touched the edge, but she could barely feel them.

Their hands fell apart, but both barely knew.

Their breathing became audible, but neither heard.

"Oh, look, here comes the inspector now."

Holmes overlooked the awkward moment and continued as if nothing had happened.

But Irene knew she could not. "Wait," she pleaded softly. "I – "

Holmes smiled.

She became preoccupied with the ground. "I-I meant that."

Dramatic silence overtook the scene.

She couldn't look up. There was too much uncertainty; she had crossed a line and she knew it. She could not bear to look up at him now. What would he do? He enjoyed their games and she knew it. For she did too. But they were getting old now, though they were still gave her that mischievous thrill she craved.

He was the only guy she had ever really loved, despite her growing number of past husbands.

But you already knew that.

What she had expected, she didn't know. Whatever it was, though, it wasn't his hungry lips on hers.

She knew her eyes went wide but could not feel them move.

The kiss was brief, but long enough to satisfy for a while.

He pulled away, but remained close. "Let the games continue," he said like a sports announcer as he kissed her cheek.

Then strode away to the inspector, who pretended as if he didn't see anything.