The Hangover

Sherlock woke up first. It took some time for him to realize his whereabout: A hotel room in Caesars Palace, Las Vegas. Judging by the clothes in the corner of the room and the four packs of M&Ms on one of the shelves, this was Lestrade's room. Only he loved M&Ms so much as to buy four packs at the airport. Sentimental aspect due to that his father used to buy him M&Ms on his birthday.

He blinked in disbelief to see that he was lying on the floor, in a pink suit, with a fluffy white shirt and a purple tie. His head hurt like hell, he was dizzy, a bit disorientated and had stomach aches. That was typical symptoms after consuming too much alcohol. But he only took two glasses of wine did he not? That had made him dizzy so he decided not to drink anymore for the sake of not damaging his brain cells or weaken his judgment any further. Well after Lestrade's nagging he took a third glass, but that was it. Oh! Oh! Of course, stupid, STUPID! Drugged. Lestrade had drugged him and Sherlock did not notice due to his previous two glasses of wine. Alcohol really turned people into giant idiots. Now Sherlock could assume he drank a lot more than those three glasses. But man, even after consuming a lot of alcohol he could never imagine himself putting on such a disgusting suit. What had happened last night?

XXX

Molly found herself in a bathroom, in a bathtub to be precise. She rubbed her eyes to see things more clearly and sighed. Wow a good party sure was fun, but the after effects were terrible. Her back was hurting even more than her head. Who decides to sleep in a bathtub anyway?

She tried to remember last night, but it was a blur which was embarrassing. She tried to keep up with the guys when drinking yesterday. That was not a good idea. She was a very light drinker. But she never did anything fun and she definitely never did party. Plus, how often were all of her friends together like that? It was a one-time occasion and she decided to let go a little. Thinking back now that was dumb. Today they would all be laughing at her and calling her 'Drunk-Molly' or something like that. Oh God, if she could only remember what happened…

XXX

A loud noise woke up Lestrade, well two noises. Two, very annoying noises. What the hell was that? After a few minutes, he realized it was only birds singing. Birds? He opened his eyes to find himself on the balcony, in his underwear. Lestrade actually laughed at this. That was one hell of a party even if he didn't remember much of it. Even better than that bachelorette party he was at a few years back.

It all started with that huge and important case, which Sherlock solved. But to everyone's surprise it took him quite some time. Anyway, Lestrade got a big raise for that and apparently it saved Sherlock's brother a lot of trouble. John and Molly had been in grave danger, but came home unscratched. It was really a win-win for everybody so Greg suggested Las Vegas. Not only to celebrate victory, but New Year's Eve. It took quite some time convincing everybody, but Las Vegas was an interesting city from many point of views so everybody finally agreed.

Nor did they know Lestrade planned a great party. They were in Las Vegas weren't they? Even Molly got drunk, well Sherlock needed a little help. He was actually surprised that it had worked without him noticing the drugs. Pure luck was his guess.

Lestrade got up to a sitting position, even though the hangover was horrible he was proud of himself for making the party such a success. Hell, even Sherlock and Molly gave it all! A cold breeze came by and gave Greg the chills. He then remembered he was only in his underwear. He looked down and to his surprise the underwear he was wearing did not belong to him. The smile vanished from his face.

"What the hell…?"

XXX

Mycroft never got drunk, not ever. It was not in his nature. He even regretted going to Las Vegas, it was such a stupid idea. Like Sherlock he had taken a few glasses of wine and then he left everybody and went to his hotel room. But why didn't he remember anything and had this obvious hangover? Someone must have drugged him, but when? He turned over in his bed.

"Mycroft," he heard Sherlock call.

"Well I suppose this isn't my hotel room," he answered awkwardly and got up into a sitting position to meet his brother's gaze. "I see, Lestrade's room it is."

"You got drunk," Sherlock stated. "No. Must've been drugged, like me."

"Lestrade drugged you. He was planning it all evening. Didn't think you would fall for it so I didn't bother warning you," Mycroft said with a yawn. "But who drugged me, I have no-"

"My guess is Irene Adler," Sherlock interrupted. "A bit of her lipstick is on your earlope and your hair smells of her perfume."

Mycroft stared at him in disbelief and then he gasped.

"She was waiting for me in my hotel room," he whispered in chock as he remembered. "But I have no idea how she drugged me and why was she even here?"

"Heard we were coming, couldn't resist."

"That bitch," Mycroft spat.

The Holmes brothers were interrupted by a loud sound of vomiting from the bathroom closely followed by a cough.

"That would be Molly," Sherlock said. "Not only does she fall to peer pressure, letting herself by fooled and drink with Lestrade, but she has a weak stomach as well. Brilliant choice making."

Mycroft gave him an annoyed look.

"We are not in a position to say such things right now dear little brother," the elder said calmly. "Miss Hooper, you can come out. We are all here."

"I-I'd rather stay in here. Y-You can…"

"Molly, like us you probably are hangover. Whatever it is, just come out and don't be so embarrassed about everything. It's very frustrating," Sherlock said losing his patience. He was in a bad mood today.

Molly slowly came out. She was wearing a big pink, fluffy, princess dress. She had long white gloves and purple shoes. The expression on her face showed that she did not remember last night.

"Well great, she finally decided to come out," Sherlock started to mock. "What a lovely sur- Wait. Why do our clothes match?"

Molly looked at her outfit and at Sherlock's, she then shrugged her shoulders.

"You guys awake?"

Lestrade came into the room. Feeling a bit uncomfortable being almost naked. Sherlock's face turned red when he saw the man.

"YOU DRUGGED ME," Sherlock accused in anger. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU ACTUALLY-"

"Is that my underwear?" Mycroft interrupted.

"Oh, they're yours?" Lestrade asked.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Wait if he has yours, what are you wearing?" Sherlock asked his brother.

"My suit," Mycroft said as if it was obvious. "…And no underwear it seems."

"Well this is awkward," Lestrade laughed. "I guess I stripped naked or something last night and you loaned them to me. Thanks, I guess."

Sherlock frowned in disgust.

"Wait," Molly said looking around. "Where is John?"

Everybody looked around the room, but there was no sign of John.

"Oh God…" Sherlock breathed. "John!"

"Oh calm down," Mycroft commented irritated. "We all know how John is. He probably met a woman and spent the night with her. A perfectly normal evening for him. I say, let's go down and get some breakfast and our doctor will join us sooner or later."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Well, I would like to change out of these clothes first if that is alright," Molly said in a weak voice.

"Molly," Sherlock started. "For once you said something that makes complete sense."

XXX

John woke up in the most comfortable bed on earth. He opened his eyes to see that he was in a huge hotel room, with a lot more luxury than his own or the other guys for that matter. More luxury than he had seen in his life in fact. Wow, what a night! It was crazy. That was even worse than when he was partying with the lads from the army. He flirted with so many girls last night that he was almost embarrassed with himself. Boy, what a hangover, but if these were the outcomes he could live with it. He stretched his arms when one of them touched the girl next to him. He let his hand stay on her back and turned around to face her with a soft smile.

His blood ran cold. He was completely paralyzed and didn't know what to do. That… That was no girl beside him. Sure the body was slim, but the short brown hair cut belonged to an enemy of Sherlock. Not an enemy, the enemy. Jim Moriarty looked calmer than John had ever seen him as he was sleeping peacefully. John's throat was suddenly dry and he swallowed. He removed his hand from the consulting criminal's back with slow motions, careful not to wake him up. He then quietly got out of the bed.

He stopped himself from letting out a cry. Bloody hell he was naked! John found his clothes in the corner and slowly put on his underwear. He didn't bother about everything else yet, first of all he wanted to get out of this room. His worst nightmare right now wasn't nudity, but the awakening of the maddest man on the planet. With small quiet footsteps he walked towards the door. Now the doorknob, he slowly turned it around as it made a loud noise. He heard a sound come from Moriarty. John was sweating now. But the criminal only turned around in his gigantic bed and continued his peaceful sleep. John slowly opened the door, got out and slowly closed it. Then he ran for his life, in his underwear, holding the rest of his clothes in his hands.

He got out of the hotel and ran towards a cab. He didn't even bother looking back to see where he had been.

"Caesars Palace NOW please," he said trying not to sound too anxious.

The man in the cab gave John a weird look as he saw Watson getting dressed in the back of the cab.

"Now!" John repeated with anger.

The old man quickly started the car.

XXX

They were all sitting around one table, eating in silence, not saying anything. There was an obvious tension which Molly really didn't like. She cleared her throat, trying to come up with anything to say.

"Hehe, does anybody remember anything from last night? For me it's all a blur."

"God Molly, can't you see from our body language and the lack of interaction that we obviously don't?" Sherlock sighed.

"Sorry, I just tried-"

"Then don't."

After Sherlock's harsh words there was a short silence again, which didn't bother the Holmes brothers that much.

"Now, now Sherly," a familiar voice said. "That's not a way to treat a lady now is it?"

Irene Adler, in a lovely short red dress and a cocky smile took a seat beside Molly around the table.

"How are we all feeling today?" She added with a smirk.

"Well you should know," Mycroft said sending her a deadly look.

"Oh don't be like that," Irene almost whined. "We had such a great time last night."

Mycroft actually choked on the juice he was drinking, spilling quite a lot on his trousers. Lestrade laughed at the sight.

"I just couldn't resist melting the iceman. And it was nice meeting you too Inspector," Irene purred giving Lestrade a wink.

Greg stared at her in disbelief. Pointing at himself, then her and at last at the older one of the Holmes brothers.

"Wait," he said closing his eyes trying to remember. "You, me, and him? All three of us?"

"Well, well… I don't understand why you need Sherlock on so many of your cases. You can make a deduction fine all by yourself," she smiled and then changed her voice into a whisper. "I will let you in on a little secret. Sometimes I was not even in the picture."

Mycroft chocked on the juice once more, this time coughing afterwards. Lestrade lost all color in his face and his jaw hanged open. The two looked at each other in disgust and got shivers. They did not want to remember anything from that.

"I assume there is footage of some kind," Mycroft said defeated and buried his face in his hands.

"Well of course," Irene said proudly. "The New Scotland Yard and the British government. I knew they said Las Vegas was a city of gambling but I think I just got the jackpot."

All this time Sherlock was staring at Irene with a confused expression on his face. He tried not to imagine his brother with the other two, but why did Irene do that? Wasn't she gay and...
Miss Adler saw this and patted him on the cheek with one hand.

"Sherlock dear," she said in a sad voice. "You know I most of all would like to have you in bed, but I couldn't do that to your wife. I have to draw the line somewhere."

Everybody around the table raised questioning eyebrows. Irene sighed and took out a photo from her pocket and gave it to Sherlock.

There he was in that pink suit, with Molly in that pink dress, in a chapel. He was holding her hands and kissing her for dear life.

Sherlock quickly looked over at Molly and as he assumed he saw a wedding ring on her left hand. Molly followed his gaze and saw the ring on her finger. She gasped in surprise and her cheeks got red.

"Couldn't destroy your honeymoon now could I? But I did enjoy being the maid of honor I have to say," Irene said and took a ring just like Molly's out of her pocket. "I kept your ring Sherly, didn't want to miss the look of surprise on your face, but you can have it back now."

Irene threw it to him. Sherlock caught the ring and began to study it. New, not that expensive and it had engraved 'sherlolly' on the inside.

"Yes I have to take credit for that. My idea," Irene said with a smile. "Now, take good care of Molly."

The whole time Sherlock's face was unreadable. His mouth was just a straight line while Molly's face was red as a tomato due to embarrassment and she kept looking down at the table, only now and then quickly looking at her new husband. Sherlock finally sighed.

"Well this is absurd," he said as he tore the photo in two halves standing up, ready to leave the table.

"Don't worry Mrs Holmes," Irene whispered to Molly and gave her a wink. "I already sent a copy to you."

Molly covered her face with her hands, too embarrassed to show herself for anyone now. How could she be married? And to Sherlock!

The detective gave Irene an annoyed look.

"How did you know we were here?" Greg asked, finally able to speak again.

"Oh Jim told me, even gave me a lift in his private plane. The man knows Sherlock's every move."

Lestrade slammed his hand on the table.

"Wait, Moriarty is HERE?"

"Oh don't flatter yourselves. He had no business with you guys. It just happens that he always spends New Year in Vegas," Irene said taking a sip from Molly's tea.

Sherlock sighed again and started to walk away from the group.

"Now where are you going brother?" Mycroft commented not wanting to deal with more problems.

"I'm going to look for John of course."

"Well speak of the devil," Lestrade breathed pointing at the restaurant entrance where they could see John running.

Molly raised her hand up in the air to tell the blond of their location.

"John!" She yelled to get his attention.

They really needed something normal around the table, Molly thought. Something like the doctor. John saw them and hurried to them. He was sweaty, pale and looked terrified. His shirt was open, revealing his chest and his hair was more of a mess than usual. Molly's hopes just died.

XXX

Moriarty liked surprises, but he did not like being waked up by someone smashing the door open, pulling off his sheets and being pointed at with a gun.

"What the hell are you doing Seb?" Jim said tired. "Do you want me to murder you personally?"

"Sorry Sir!" Sebastian Moran said and stepped away lowering his gun.

When he saw that his boss was naked he quickly gave him his sheets back. Moriaty moaned.

"Ah my head hurts like fuck," he whined. "Give me a pill, will you? Before I kill you for smashing my door that is."

"Yes sir," Sebastian said, clearly accustomed to threats, but did not provoke the other man any further. "I apologize once again, but I was searching for you all night since you ran away from me with John Watson. I was worried something might have happened."

Moran did not mention that the two of them had behaved like children running away from a parent.

"Wait, I ran away from you Seb?"

"Yes sir."

"That's not like me," Moriaty yawned. "And with Sherlock's pet?"

"That is correct sir."

"Interesting," Moriarty smiled as he got out of bed and started to get dressed. "What did I do to him? Did I kill him?"

"Sir you have…"

"What, speak up. You know how I hate mumbling."

"You have a tattoo on your back."

Jim walked to the mirror and saw a tattoo on his scapular. It was a heart rate line with a text under it, 'Need a doctor'. Obviously referring to Sherlock's pet, but why? What happened?

"I tried to follow where you and John Watson had been and it seems he talked you into spending a lot of money in the casino nearby, unfortunately losing everything due to the state you two were in. Then he convinced you to get that tattoo and the tattoo artist informed me that you insisted on him going 'home' with you."

Moriarty looked around the room his eyes widening after a few seconds.

"That bastard was here," he said. "He slept in the bed and smoke out in the morning while I was asleep. Clever dog."

Jim's hands started to shake and Sebastian took a few steps back. He didn't want to be near his boss right now. Just a few seconds later Moriarty gained his composure again and a smile that would give anyone the chills spread across his face.

"Give me my jacket Sebastian," he said in a high pitched voice. "Honey, we are going out."

XXX

John finally reached them and tried to catch his breath.

"John, what happened?" Sherlock asked. "No, wait. You slept with someone of horrible choice and ran away before the two of you had the chance to greet each other in the morning. Don't worry, no one will judge. If you only could hear the preposterous conversations this morning. So what type of person was it? A hooker?"

"Sherlock," Molly warned him.

He did not take notice of her and everybody waited for John's answer. When he finally was able to breathe he told them.

"Moriarty."

Sherlock grimaced.

"You need to be more precise. I do not understand, someone who looks like Moriarty, a criminal or-"

"I slept with Jim Moriarty, woke up beside him in a hotel not far from here."

There was a silence and everybody's eyes popped out a little.

"Oh, I see…" Was the only thing that came out of Sherlock, followed by an 'Oh my!' by Molly.

"Well what do you know," Irene said impressed.

"My condolences, doctor Watson," Mycroft said with a small bow.

"Are you insane?" Lestrade spat not believing what he just heard. "John, listen mate. Even if he was as drunk as you that man has a huge ego, pride not to mention that he is completely twis-"

"You really think that didn't cross my mind as I was hauling my ass over here?" John almost screamed with anger. "I have no idea how that happened or what to do."

Sherlock finally recovered from his shock and started to think.

"What's done is done. But I do not approve of you to have intercourse with my enemies in the future," Sherlock told his best friend in a serious tone. "We have to go right now. Forget your things, we are getting away from here as soon as possible."

"Good, I like that pl-"

John was interrupted by five gunshots in the building, followed by a very familiar sinister voice.

"Oh Johnny-boy!" Moriarty shouted happily. "One does not simply fuck around with me and sneak out in the morning. Come out and play, need to finish the game sweetheart!"

Watson looked at Sherlock in terror.

"I am so sorry," his friend said.

"Unfortunately there is nothing I can do," Mycroft told him.

"That is some bad luck," Lestrade commented.

Molly was too shocked to speak and Irene was already far gone.

"Seriously?" John complained.

Sherlock put his hand on John's shoulder and sighed.

"I will do what I can, but I can't promise you anything."

"Bloody hell I'm screwed," Watson cried.

"As are all of us," Mycroft said remembering Irene with her footage and now they had a pissed Moriarty to deal with.

They stayed silent as the consulting criminal and his men were approaching them.

"So…" Lestrade began. "How did you guys like Las Vegas?"

AN: For starters, I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters. Just this story.
This was so much fun to write, hope you enjoyed. Had to write something before season three comes out, I bet we are all anticipating it.
I'm not a native speaker, but doing my best to improve my English skills.
Please tell me your thoughts, review!