Disclaimer: I do not own either of these I just wish to pay tribute to 2 of my favorite shows.
John Watson sat at the bar. Somehow he always found himself there. It had become a bad habit not that he really cared. He had stopped caring months ago. Biologically speaking, he might have been alive but it didn't feel like it. Not really.
It had been six months since Sherlock had met Moriarty on the rooftop of St. Bart's.
Six months since... well, he didn't really like to think about that. There was still a small part of him that hoped that this was all just one of Sherlock's mad schemes. That when he'd be least expecting it (and probably at the most inconvenient time) he'd get a text demanding his presence at 221B.
No text ever came and he was beginning to doubt they ever would. John finished his pint and ordered another. It was his fifth… or was it his sixth? Either way, it didn't matter.
He was lost too deep in thought to notice that a stool beside him had become occupied.
"You're looking awfully sullen for a Friday night." John turned to face the woman now sitting next to him.
"Look I'm sure you're a nice girl, but I'm not interested." It wasn't a complete lie, she was gorgeous. Her hair, a deep auburn, was pulled back into a messy bun, striking against her pale skin. She wore a sliky emerald cap sleave dress that excentuated the curves of her slim body. Around her neck was a lacy green choker which inlaid a small broach. Her hazel eyes barred into him as if they could see right in into his soul. If it had been another time, he might have taken the bait.
"We both know that's not quite true," she replied, with a small laugh. "But that's not why I'm here."
"Then why are you here?" he questioned. John didn't know what it was about this woman, but something felt off.
"If you had one wish John, what would it be?"
"How do you know my name?" She smiled.
"I know a lot of things John, now answer the question."
There was definitely something wrong about this woman. John stared down at his pint as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "You want him back, don't you? What if I told you I knew someone, and all you'd have to do is make a wish?"
John didn't know who this woman was or what her angle was but the offer, he hated to admit, was tempting.
"And if I wanted to make this wish?"
She placed her hand on his and leaned in slightly. "I can tell you're skeptical, so I'll let you think it over. I come here once or twice a month so if you're still interested..." she trailed off absentmindly, twirling a strand hair.
"Right," he awkwardly responded, his eyes trailing up to the man now standing behind her.
"Well as fun as this has been, I must be off. People to see, things to do, all that jazz." She stood and began to walk towards the man but turned back just for a moment.
"Think about it," she said with a wink and disappeared through the door.
John stared at the door the woman had left by. He knew he shouldn't follow her but the curiosity was getting the better of him. He quickly stood up and made his way out of the of the pub. Having no idea where the strange couple might have gone he looked up and down the street but there wasn't a soul in sight. Just as John was about to return inside to his stool and his pint, he heard voices coming from the alleyway. He made his way to opening being careful not to be not to be seen he peered into the darkness.
"Are you sure you can do it?" He heard the man ask.
"Sweetie, I can do anything. How'd you think the D.B. got away? Guys don't just escape of a plane like that on a regular basis. You can't do that kinda thing without my kind of help."
"That was you?" he sounded impressed.
"Like I said, I can do anything. I just need a wish."
John could only imagine the catlike grin on the woman's face as he crept close further down the alley toward the pair's shadowy silhouettes.
"So do we have a deal?" she practically purred.
"Indeed we do."
"Perfect." Her response was almost gleeful.
The woman leaned in and kissed the man, almost a little too enthusiastically in his opinion. John didn't know what was going on and quite frankly, he didn't like it and yet he stood there transfixed. She broke the embrace and the man started to walk back up the alleyway when she called to him.
"See you in ten years sweetheart, enjoy your new relationship."
John quickly hid in an alcove as the man emerged from the alleyway and proceeded down the street. When the man was a safe distance away, he peered back down the darkened corridor. The woman was gone. He walked all the way down the alley. Maybe she left from the other side?
"No," he thought. She couldn't have. It was a blind alleyway... but where the hell could she have gone? It was almost was like she disappeared into thin air, but that was rediculous. After a few minutes of searching, John gave up, returning to the pub, not noticing the steely blue eyes that had been watching him. A man stepped out of the shadows across the street. Sherlock Holmes frowned; he never expected them to go after John. This complicated things.