Hello all! Sorry to keep you waiting for so long...I know I promised you guys Part Two for Last Friday Night, but unfortunately, I lost all inspiration for it after a long, arduous struggle of trying to write it. That doesn't mean there won't ever be one, just if it does, it probably won't be anytime soon, and I apologize for that.

Anyways, enjoy!

Something That We're Not

Needless to say, John was less than happy when Sherlock informed him his current girlfriend was cheating on him.

He couldn't imagine why John had not seen it himself, everything about the woman was fake, her personality, her appearance (especially her nose, which was almost completely plastic-thus earning her the name "the one with the nose", Sherlock couldn't be bothered to remember the name of someone that boring), and of course, her relationship status.

"What?" Sherlock asked John after delivering the news and receiving a stunned, disbelieving stare in return. "You didn't like her that much, did you?"

Shaking his head, John simply got up and walked out of the room.

He returned an hour later, informing Sherlock (and quite a bit testily) that he was going to have dinner with her tomorrow and was going to end it.

Good. Perhaps next time he would choose more wisely.

When Sherlock told John this, he earned yet another incredulous stare.

"Oh for goodness' sake, what is it now?"

"Timing, Sherlock, timing!"

###

"Table for two?" The host asked cheerily as John and Stephanie walked into the small restaurant.

"Yes, thank you," said John.

"Wonderful, Sophie will show you to your table."

John glanced over at Stephanie, who was smiling politely as they followed the waitress. He could hardly believe that she was cheating on him and still was okay with being here, acting like everything was fine when it was really not. She caught him looking, and she grinned, showing off nearly every single one of her whitened teeth. John could only offer a half smile, and perhaps she sensed something was off because her smile faltered and faded.

The waitress sat them down at a table in the middle of the restaurant, and John silently cursed. Yeah, he was angry, absolutely livid about Stephanie, but he wasn't really keen on making this breakup a public affair. The waitress handed them their menus and left, leaving John and Stephanie alone.

They didn't speak for a few awkward moments, then Stephanie piped up.

"Is there something wrong, John?" She asked sweetly.

"Uh…yeah. Actually, we need to talk-"

"Can it wait until we get our food? They have this, you know, mystery entree that I have been dying to try…"

She continued to babble on about the food, and John pretended to listen. She knew what was coming, he could tell, and he decided to humour her for the time being, let her think it was all alright. He politely (though a bit coldly, but she pretended not to notice) engaged with her in mindless conversation until their dinner arrived.

"Oh, wonderful," said Stephanie, and she began to eat as soon as the plate was set down in front of her, as another desperate way to stall what was coming.

John, who didn't really feel all that hungry, just watched her, occasionally taking a few bites of his own. When she finally slowed down enough to take a breath, John tried again. "Stephanie, we need to-"

"You know what, I think I need to go to the loo," Stephanie said, and she made to stand up.

John, who had previously felt a bit amused at her attempts to escape the inevitable, was now feeling quite irritated with the whole thing. "I'm sorry to keep you, but we really need to talk now."

Stephanie was about to protest when they were interrupted by a loud, baritone voice that was all too familiar-

"John Hamish Watson!"

"Who is that?" Stephanie demanded, all plans of going to the loo forgotten.

John was spared having to answer, because the person in question had noisily pulled up a chair to their table, and was pointing a finger in John's face.

"What are you doing here with her?" Sherlock Holmes himself shouted at John. He looked genuinely hurt, and for a moment John wondered if he had missed something earlier. He had specifically told Sherlock he was going out tonight, that he was ending things with Stephanie, but then again, this wouldn't be the first time the detective hadn't listened. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, what are you doing here with her?" Sherlock shouted again. "You told me you were going over to Mike's, but no, you snuck off to go on a date with some floozy!"

"Excuse me?" Stephanie tried to cut in, but Sherlock waved an impatient hand at her. "Shut up, you." He snapped at her, and then turned back to John expectantly. "Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

John stared up at him, completely baffled."Uh-I'm sorry?"

Sherlock snorted. "Is that all? That's all you have to say after wrecking three beautiful years of the most perfect relationship you've ever had?"

"The most beautiful what?" John asked, bewildered.

"You're gay?" Stephanie exclaimed.

"No!" John said immediately, and he glanced quickly at Sherlock. What the devil was he doing?

"You're not?" Sherlock cried, looking distraught.

"Yes! I mean no!" John said, flustered. "Sherlock, what is-ow!"

Sherlock had given him a very painful and well aimed kick in the leg, which hurt far more than he cared to admit, but fortunately John understood the meaning behind the action. It was ridiculous, it was insane, but Sherlock Holmes was in his own ludicrous way helping John break up with his girlfriend.

Everyone was looking at them now, peering over the food and their drinks to watch the spectacle going on in the middle of the restaurant, and John felt a slight blush creep onto his cheeks, and he sighed. They were already in too deep to go back now, so might as well play along and milk it for all it was worth.

He gave a quick nod to Sherlock to signal that he understood, and the detective resumed character.

"What about all we have been through?" Sherlock yelled, slamming a hand on the table, making Stephanie jump. "What about all the times I sat with you when you were having your nervous breakdowns and the swine fever! And oh, let not forget about the the time you drove your car into your boss's house after getting completely wasted, and I was the one who paid all the fines and visited you in prison every single week of your miserable two year sentence! I stayed with you through everything, and this is how you repay me?"

"You know I was, uh, only wasted that day because of you!" John shot back, though not as confidently as he would have liked. "You know I only like to have er-six drinks a day-"

"Don't you dare try to blame that on me," Sherlock bellowed. "I was just having my own alcohol when you butted in, how was I supposed to know you were going to take the whole bottle and-"

"I'm sorry," Stephanie said coldly, interrupting what would have been a very long, drawn out rant, "but you're gay and you've been cheating on me?"

"Actually," Sherlock cut in, glowering at Stephanie, "he was cheating on me with you, I was with him first, remember?"

"How could you do this?" Stephanie demanded.

"Sorry," John said with a shrug. "I guess I just couldn't resist his…er-" He looked over the detective, trying to find the least awkward thing he could mention- "-cheekbones?" He cringed at this, but Stephanie was so angry she didn't notice.

"Well!" She snapped, standing up. "The joke's on you, you want to know why?"

"No, can't imagine why," John said sarcastically, but she didn't seem to notice the sarcasm.

"Because I've been seeing Marcus again!" She shouted, sounding oddly triumphant. "There, see!"

"What? You were with Marcus-" His words were cut off by a grunt of pain as Sherlock kicked him again. Stay in character, he could practically hear him saying.

John cleared his throat. "Uh-I mean, it doesn't matter-it doesn't even matter because-"

"Because I've decided I forgive you," Sherlock said suddenly.

"What?" John and Stephanie both asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, nodding dramatically. "I've decided that our relationship is worth a second chance, John. Isn't that what you want?" He simpered, his classic puppy dog look coming onto his face.

John had to repress the urge to roll his eyes. Sherlock was having too much fun with this. He was about to retort when Stephanie surprised him by speaking up.

"Well! I hope you two are very happy together," she said shortly, getting to her feet. "I guess this is goodbye, John."

"I suppose it is," John replied a bit stiffly, painfully aware of all the eyes watching them.

She made a "hmph!" sound and marched out of the restaurant, pushing past some of the curious bystanders rather roughly.

"Okay," John said, turning to Sherlock. "Shall we-"

"Not yet," Sherlock said quietly. "It's time for my exit."

"What-?"

Without further ado, Sherlock slapped John across the face.

"Three years and this is all I have to show for it?" He shouted, and making a "hmph!" noise rather like the one Stephanie had made, he turned to leave.

John blinked, his cheek still stinging and still shocked from the blow. But...if Sherlock was having fun with it, why couldn't he?

"Honey!" He called after Sherlock, adding as much disbelief and incredulity as he could.

Sherlock whirled around, and if every eye in the restaurant wasn't already turned to them, they were now. "Don't you 'honey' me!" He roared, his expression furious. Then John saw his mouth twitch, as if he was trying not to laugh, and he strode out of the restaurant with a final swish of his coat.

###

Sherlock was waiting outside for John, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet and wearing a ridiculous grin.

"What was that?" John demanded, and though he was trying to sound angry, it was coming out in a more excited, exhilarated way. Though he had been humiliated, it had been, in a strange way, quite entertaining.

"I thought you might need some help," Sherlock said simply, as if that explained everything. "Taxi!"

"I've broken up with women before, thank you," John said. "I didn't need your help."

"Please, you were letting her take advantage of you," Sherlock responded coolly. "The food, the unnecessary trips to the loo…really, you can do better than that."

"I was waiting for a better moment!" John said defensively.

"So I gave you one," Sherlock said, as a cab drove up alongside them. "And honestly, John, you are always so insufferable after you end your relationships, moaning, mooning about and the like. I thought you might be less so if you went about it differently."

"So pretending to be my boyfriend is a better way to break up with someone?" John exclaimed. "And for the record, I do not 'moon about'!" John snapped at Sherlock, who was climbing into the cab.

"Yeah, you do!" Sherlock called back in his irritatingly superior way. John rolled his eyes and shook his head, then joined Sherlock in the cab.

"Oh, John?" Sherlock said a few moments later, as they drove away.

"Yeah?"

"May I just say that I am quite grateful that when you were choosing your career in life, you chose to be a doctor instead of an actor, your acting skills are atrocious-"

John responded by giving the detective a good thump on the head. "Shut up."

"Not likely."

"Ha."

John sat back in his seat, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. He still could hardly believe the events of that night. Sherlock Holmes had just helped him break up with his girlfriend. Sure, it was in the worst way he could have done it, but this had to be the first time he walked away from a relationship (especially one like this where he had been cheated on) laughing.

And he had a certain so called sociopathic best friend to thank for that.

This was inspired by a video on Youtube called "Substitute Breakup" by Studio C. It's hilarious, so if you want to, go check it out. I admit I did take a line from it, but it was too good to resist. The rest of the lines are mine. :)

Please do let me know what you thought of this chapter!