Author's Notes: So... I had to do it. I couldn't let this momentous occasion - the fact that something aired in England first AND I actually watched it on the day it aired - pass without commemorating it with fic. I did it for 'On Stranger Tides' and I'm doing it for 'Sherlock'. Also, as soon as I watched this moment in the episode I could feel that there was a fic there waiting to be written. Probably a better one than the one I wrote, but this is what you get. X3 I wanted it to be a drabble (exactly 100 words), but it came out as 150, so it's a drabble-and-a-half.
What's with the title? Well, I was thinking "two years ago, when something's two years ago, what would that make it? Out of style." Again, it's late, just go with it.
Out of Style
"Oh, please. Killing me. That's so two years ago."
He looked up at me with those piercing, clever eyes and that quicksilver smile that I hated and loved – so sure of his own brilliance, his Sherlock-ness. All I could do was huff out something that didn't want to be a laugh but really was. Relief and fury and the sheer insanity of it all coursed through me, making me light and dizzy. Why did I put up with him? Why was I still putting up with him, forgiving him, after everything?
Sherlock was already walking away, but his laughter – deep, throaty and insufferably smug – floated back to me, suffusing my body with the knowledge that he was here, that he was alive. I would put up with anything just to have him – aggravating prick, shameless liar, incredible genius, clueless arse that he was – back in my life.
I needed Sherlock.