A Writer’s Experience: Ongoing Worlds 14

Tags

BBC, fan fiction, fan-fic, John Watson, Molly Hooper, Ongoing Worlds, Sherlock Holmes

“I need a drink!” Sherlock exclaimed suddenly and he was already on his way out the door. John and Molly stood there in surprise for a moment, then Sherlock popped his head back in and said “Well… are you two coming?”

“Um, sure,” John said not sure what else to say. Molly looked pleased as punch, she was grinning ear to ear and just followed Sherlock like a puppy. It was John who turned off the lights and headed out last.

Sherlock was his usual, quiet self on the ride to wherever it was he had told the cab driver to take them. The way they could tell his eyes were darting back and forth he was searching for something in his mind palace. With a grunt and a groan he stammered – “Can’t find it!”

Assuming they had reached their destination, since the cab stopped, Sherlock jumped out and was at the door of an upscale social club. There was a very large bouncer at the door who immediately stepped between the door and Sherlock. Sherlock just paused a moment, eyed the man over and said:

“Vy odinoki, yest’ koshka , i tayno gomoseksualistom. Ubiraysya s moyego puti , pust’ moi druz’ya vmeste so mnoy , ili ya skazhu svoyemu bossu .”

The bouncer looked horrified and let them in. Sherlock went right to the bar and said, “YA voz’mu odin raund kazhdogo vodki u vas yest’. Pozhaluysta, ostav’te butylku dlya kazhdogo za steklom.” And Sherlock handed him a wad of hundreds without blinking.

In a matter of minutes, the bartender had set down over 30 different shots of Vodka on the bar. Sherlock handed one to each John and Molly – “Cheers!” and downed it. Molly and John were dumbfounded. “Drink!” Sherlock insisted. Down the hatch they went. Then Sherlock took a breath into his hand and smelled it. “John, breathe in my face,” he ordered in his usual tone.

“Why?” John asked.

“Come on, we need to do this quickly before we get too drunk to be able to go on,” Sherlock said dancing a bit like an anxious child. John did as ordered. Displeased with the aroma, he went onto Molly. “Molly, breathe…” And before he could say anymore she had stepped closer to him and exhaled on him. The silly-sweetness of it was a bit awkward and went unnoticed as usual by Sherlock, who seemed displeased yet again at the result. This pattern continued through several more shots all with the same result. Molly and John had to stop at their fifth shots, despite Sherlock’s objections.

“Sel’d’ pozhaluysta!” Sherlock announced and the bartender brought out a jar for him. “Here, eat this, it’ll make you feel better,” Sherlock said insistently. John and Molly were too drunk to protest and ate. As drunk as they were, the taste of pickled fish was still noticeable and in a moment both were running to what they each hoped was the bathroom. Thankfully, the symbols on the doors were universal and neither had entered the wrong one.

In a few minutes both returned, Molly looking much worse for wear. “Why? Why would you give us pickled fish with bellies full vodka?” John protested.

“Because I knew your typical diets would find the combination appalling and you would in turn regurgitate the contents of your intestines,” Sherlock said plainly. “Drink?” he asked offering each another shot.

“No thanks,” Molly said painfully. “I think I need to go lie down. Thanks for inviting me out, Sherlock…” and she slumped over into his arms. He cradled her gently and laid her on a nearby settee. He turned to offer John another shot, but he was already passed out, face down at the bar.

“No rest for the weary,” Sherlock mused and downed the next drink.

(Several hours later)

The sound of singing woke John and Molly up, it was likely loud enough to wake everyone on the block. Through dreary eyes John and Molly saw a sight to behold. Sherlock was back behind the bar, with the bartender and the bouncer, in a heartfelt embrace and singing. Looking around the room, it must have been very late since they were the only patrons that remained.

The song must have ended because it got very quiet. Then they could hear Sherlock say, this time in English, “And you know what? It shouldn’t matter what your boss says. If you two are in love, you should be happy.” The bartender and bouncer looked at each other with a heartfelt gleam and hugged Sherlock.

“Today and forever, you shall be our brother,” the bouncer said in a thick Russian accent. Then he kissed the bartender passionately.

“Go, go!” Sherlock said shooing the two from behind the bar. “I’ll lock up behind you.” And without a second thought the two were off like newlyweds to someplace private.

The look at Sherlock was priceless. John and Molly were speechless.

“Now,” Sherlock began, “Molly, thank you for a wonderful evening. We’ll see you home. John and I must get some rest, we have a murderer to catch in the morning!”