John woke up feeling weary. His sleep had been interrupted several times by Sherlock's experimenting in the kitchen. He was working on something John would never understand. Something about brains and neurons involving the use of a microwave and pickled eggs. He wasn't even going to ask this time. He walked into the cluttered room frowning at the numerous petri dishes and jars of gooey stuff. His flatmate was hunched over the table surrounded by papers and staring hard at his specimens. His crimson dressing gown was splattered with many substances of dark colours.
"Sherlock?" John groaned as he pulled on a knitted jumper patterened with blue and white stripes.
"Mhmmm?" Answered the detective, hard at work slicing open a human brain, prodding it with different instruments.
"Any lead on the... case... or whatever that is you're doing that for?"
"Case? No. I finished the last case hours ago. I got bored and now I'm studying the similarities between eggs and the human brains. Pretty useless stuff I'll probably delete in a few minutes. The palace is cramped enough."
John nodded, not wanting to go any further into the subject of my it wasn't worthy for his mind palace. He stalked off into the living room where he slumped on the usual worn, black chair. He reached for the remote hopig for some mindless daytime television when this familiar bleep of Sherlock's phone sounded.
"Phone, John." Sherlock stretched his long arm out to John beckoning him to pass his phone. John grumbled as he stood up and picked up the iPhone and gave it to Sherlock.
"It's Lestrade. He's throwing some kind of party to celebrate his engagement to my brother. Ergghhhh." He threw the phone down next to the liver of some unfortunate creature and turned back to his microscope.
"When is it?" Asked John. "You had better go, they'll both be expecting you!"
"7pm, tonight, at Lestrade's place. You can go, but I don't want to. I don't want to rot my brain any more. It's been three days since I had a case John. THREE DAYS!"
"But you just solved one, like, a couple of hours ago." John screwed up his face in a confused manner and nudged Sherlock's shoulder, "You never know, today might be quite interesting before the party."
"Well the last case didn't count, I solved it in less than an hour. I spent the rest of the time toying with the people."
"Sherlock, I said before, you can't just play with people's lives to keep yourself entertained. It's cruel. But, anyway, you're coming to Lestrade and Mycroft's party with me, whether you like it or not." John's eyes locked with Sherlock's glaring face.
"Okay. But you pay the taxi fare." Sherlock grinned at his best friend, and John grinned back. Both of them whisked out of the kitchen and into thier rooms to find a suitable outfit.
Lestrade's house was small but cosy. It had a garden out the back (which was unusual for a city centre house) with a little, white marquee in the middle of it. Mycroft was setting up atable of snacks and cocktails with little umbrellas in the glass. The guests started arriving and John recognized a few. He saw Anderson sneaking little glances at Sally Donovan while his wife was busy chatting. John spotted Anthea, a girl he had failed to get a date with twice. He also saw Mrs Hudson wearing a flowery dress and chittering away to anyone she could see. Sherlock slouched beside John, looking thoroughly annoyed with everyone around him.
There was a chink of metal on glass as Mycroft was tapping a spoon on his cocktail glass.
"Ahem. I'd like to propose a toast to my husband-to-be and for all of our guests, to thank you all for coming. To us all?" Mycroft raised his glass.
"To us all!" The crowd repeated. They all raised their glasses in the air while Lestrade and Mycroft shared a kiss.
The crowed ahhh'd, John smiled, and Sherlock looked like he was about to puke.
