The Time Of Our Lives
John stepped into the living room with a steaming hot mug of tea. He sighed as the leather chair creaked from the weight that was placed upon it. His eyes shut, as to fully enjoy the soothing melody coming from Sherlock's violin. The slow, comforting tune cut off abruptly, and John realized that Sherlock was pacing around the flat.
"What's the matter, Sherlock? A particularly hard case?" John questioned. Sherlock's head snapped around to look at John. "Ever since your stag night, John, I've been feeling particularly bored. I try to fill up the need with work, but it's like there's a hole and the work doesn't fit the shape." John smiled at his response, because he knew exactly what had to happen. He took Sherlock by the arm and dragged him outside.
They walked up together to the nearest bar, and stepped inside. Sherlock shot a questioning look at John, but didn't get a response. John simply left to get them both drinks. When he returned, Sherlock seemed to have loosened up a bit, and was actually tapping his foot to the beat of the music. He happily accepted the drink and the two of them sat down and drank. They talked about cases for the first little while, but soon the conversation turned to the bigger overall problem, Moriarty. After about 10 minutes on the subject, Sherlock whipped out his phone and dialed a number. With the phone to his ear, he asked whoever was on the other line to come over to the bar. John had no idea who he was talking to, so he went and got them each a shot.
By the time the recipient of the phone call arrived, Sherlock and John were both so drunk they could hardly speak. He felt as if he should get himself a drink before making his way over to their table. He strutted over to the duo after downing a vodka shot, and sat down.
"Jim, hi!" was Sherlock's slurred response. Moriarty turned to look at John, who was laughing at who knows what.
"Hello you two… You called me here Sherlock?" Moriarty seemed rather confused at why he was summoned. "Oh, right. Have a drink, I just wanted to, you know, hang out. As.. as friends." Sherlock responded cheerily. Soon enough, Moriarty was pretty hammered as well. As a trio, they decided to go back to Baker Street.
They stepped in through the front door as Mrs. Hudson was vacuuming the landing. She seemed surprised to see Moriarty walk in after Sherlock and John, but chose not to question it. Once they reached the flat, John was at that tired stage, where he could hardly stay awake. He sat down in his armchair and was almost immediately unconscious. Sherlock and Moriarty, though, were still feeling playful and punchy. The consulting detective stumbled his way to the shelves and dug through a box, only to pull out the game of twister. Without saying a word, he set up the game. He realized that, with John out for the count, he needed someone to spin. He called up Lestrade, and they began to play.
Moriarty got to start, and he purposefully placed his foot where it belonged. It was Sherlock's turn to go, and he went down on his knees to put down his hand. Even though nothing funny had happened, they simultaneously burst into laughter. Lestrade looked at them both as though they were insane, which in a way they were. He called out the next move for Moriarty, and the game continued with someone moving, the two of them laughing, and Lestrade getting more and more annoyed. He called out a move for Sherlock.
"Right foot green." This move was the one that got all of them. Sherlock and Moriarty were more tangled than a pair of ear buds, and after Sherlock moved his foot, they collapsed into a heaving pile of hilarity. They hooted and chortled for 2 minutes straight. Lestrade finally lost it and yelled at the two of them.
"If I don't get a strong drink, I mean REALLY strong, right now, I am out of here. I am done with the two of you, I mean, what's going to happen after this? You two will wake up with a massive hangover, and you're not going to be sure what to make of the fact that you were sleeping in the same bed! And stop laughing, seriously. Nothing funny happened, guys. IT'S. NOT. FUNNY!" and with that, he stormed out. The two geniuses didn't care, they weren't really listening. They were too busy rolling around the floor, stomach's heaving from the laughter.
Once they had collected themselves (which took a good 10 minutes), they looked at each other, trying to think of what to do. Sherlock smiled and pulled out his phone once again. He called Molly and Anderson and Mary and basically anyone he could think of and invited them over. He spent a while looking through the different appliances in the kitchen until he found the booze. He found a few bottles in the microwave, behind the eyeballs and the live frogs. He got out glasses and poured them full.
The guests arrived and promptly got tipsy, and then plastered. They giggled and fell over as drunk people do, until Sherlock suggested that they play truth or dare. People happily obliged, and some very funny, very bad stuff was done. John was endlessly tortured, as he was the only one asleep. People drew all over his face, put things in his mouth, and did all sorts of hilariousness. There were dares of people having to kiss each other, and there were the weirdest combos. Lots of secrets were exchanged, although no one was going to remember them in the morning.
It had turned into a party after Sherlock had invited those other people. As the sun rose, the party slowed down and people started passing out everywhere. Sherlock fell asleep sitting on John's lap, Moriarty passed out with his head in the fridge, and Anderson was lying face down in the middle of the floor. The only sensible person was molly, who went to Sherlock's bed and slept there.
Everyone woke up at different times that morning or afternoon. John was the first, although he couldn't get up with Sherlock sitting on him. His head was pounding as he looked around a t all of the people. When had they come over? He pushed Sherlock off his lap, and the detective didn't wake. John walked around, picking up trash on his way to the kitchen to make coffee. When he reached it, he saw Moriarty with his head in the fridge and pulled it out. His face had gone a little blue, and John was worried what that was doing for his health. Molly was the next one up, and she left very soon after she got up. About 10 minutes after Molly, Anderson rushed off in embarrassment. By 3:30 that afternoon, everyone but Sherlock and Moriarty had gone. John was watching videos on his laptop when Moriarty stirred. He muttered something about cheesecake and turned over.
When they finally woke up, they looked at each other, not saying a word. They made a silent pact never to speak of this to anyone, and then Moriarty turned and left. Sherlock and John spent the rest of the day getting over their hangovers and cleaning up. No-one ever spoke of this day agin.