7.
Sally was a surprise. It had been a long night of celebration; Lestrade had taken them to a bar to celebrate solving a particularly vexing case without Sherlock Holmes. Anderson had found and matched a fingerprint which had led them to track down and arrest the serial killer known as the Vampire of Winchester. They toasted him early in the night, but drank themselves into a stupor before midnight. After midnight, Sally said she had lost her car keys, when in reality Lestrade, in his drunken wisdom had taken them from her when she had tried to jump on the bar and sing to the song that had been playing softly on the radio at the top of her lungs, loudly and off-key. Anderson said he'd walk her home. Or tried to. But she got the message. So there they were: stumbling together from streetlight to streetlight when all of a sudden he wanted her. In his ethanol haze he wanted her badly. Before, at work he'd always thought she was beautiful, high-strung, but fun to be around, and witty; but now she was stunning and perfect. And clinging to his arm. His wife was gone, he knew, but he had never cheated on her before. All of his better senses inhibited, he brought Sally to his apartment, still laughing and burping alcohol vapors at each other. He doesn't remember exactly what he said, but he thinks he used some kind of poetry to seduce her. In the morning they were sore, angry, groggy and back to normal. And a bit horrified, but both kind enough not to show it on their faces. They simply agreed that it had never happened. When Sherlock Holmes ousted them, in front of a stranger no less, it was all Anderson could do to keep from melting into a puddle. In reality he went and hid behind the Forensics van and buried his face in his hands. It took a long time to restore a normal relation with Sally, but after a while they could stand to look each other in the face