A/N: John's direct inner thoughts are reflected in italics.
The next few hours found John roaming through the streets of London attempting to find a solution to his problem. With the Officers' Ball looming on the horizon, he didn't have enough time to acquaint himself adequately with a new girl in order to ask her to the affair. That narrowed his choices down to women he already was familiar with – and it wasn't a large pool to choose from. One by one, he examined the possibilities.
Molly. Hmmm. Cleans up nicely if that Christmas party at 221B was anything to judge by. Of course, one look at a room full of Army officers would probably send shy, meek Molly Hooper scurrying under the closest table or behind the nearest potted plant.
Sally Donovan. Never seen Sally in anything but her professional outfits, so no idea how she would look in formal dress. Though judging by her physique, probably not bad at all. But John was turned off by the possibility of Sally slipping into one of her sarcastic, bad attitude rants if a comment or situation didn't meet her approval or expectations. And with a shudder, the former soldier realized he would never hear the end of it from Sherlock if he escorted the consulting detective's New Scotland Yard nemesis to the ball. His thoughts quickly moved on to the next potential candidate.
Sarah. Intelligent, beautiful, classy. The perfect date! Except that after the kidnapping and trauma she experienced during the Blind Banker case it was highly likely that the last thing she wanted was another date with him.
Anthea. He dismissed that one right off the bat. Sexy as Mycroft's assistant is sure to be in an evening gown, she would undoubtedly spend the entire evening with her mobile glued to her hand and her eyes glued to her mobile. John enjoyed an internal giggle as he pictured Anthea slow dancing with him while texting away behind his back. Probably reporting back to Mycroft as if the man doesn't already know too much about my life as it is! Either that or helping her boss to arrange the next military coup in some unheard of but highly important third world nation.
Mrs. Hudson. Well now. He had some pride after all. And as sweet and generous as Mrs. Hudson was, the thought of entering the ballroom with his elderly landlady just wasn't cutting it. Besides, with my luck, some older widowed officer in need of a motherly figure to accompany him through his dotage would probably swoop down and steal her away and I'd still end up alone for the evening.
There was always Harry, but the last thing he needed was to bring his alcoholic sister to an event that was sure to be overflowing with overwhelmingly tempting beverages. And there was something that smacked of desperation in bringing your sister - especially to such an illustrious affair. John shuddered at the remembrance of being forced to bring Harry to a school dance at which she thoroughly humiliated him by flirting with one of his female classmates. No, never again!
Ah, but there was always Sherlock. He had, after all, promised to find John a date had he not? John shook his head at the thought.
There was nothing for it. John Watson, the man famous in the army for having a love life that spanned three continents, would have to attend the ball alone and make up some sort of excuse that his date couldn't make it at the last moment. How the mighty fall.
Resigned to his fate, John made his way back home to the mad nutter he called flatmate, and apparently the only stable relationship he was able to maintain.
A/N: Up next – Sherlock comes through with his promise of a date for John, but will John make it through the Officers' Ball with his dignity intact?