ᴡᴇᴅɴᴇsᴅᴀʏ 10:54 ᴘᴍ
She had spent most of her day with John. He wanted to give Sherlock space — he gave her the gist of what was going on; serial killer case and no new evidence could be found. They walked around town before settling in a pub. After a few drinks it had already gotten late enough that John called himself a cab and headed back to his flat.
She was among three people who sat in the bar. The bartender leisurely dried off a glass, seeing as how it was a slow night and there was no need to rush. Her glass was empty and minutes later it was full courtesy of a man who had taken it upon himself to sit next to her.
"I would deliver a classic pickup line but you're more worthy of that, miss." The man spoke slurring his words slightly. Margaret inclined her head, acknowledging him, but didn't feel the need to pursue further than that. She ordered her own drink, ignoring the one the man had bought her, and sparingly sipped on it, all the while an eye flickering to the man beside her who couldn't stop fidgeting and was making her rather uncomfortable.
He did appear drunk but looked to have enough composure that she wouldn't recommend him finding another barstool.
Margaret downed the last of her liquor, deciding to close her tab as everything seemed to be getting an extra line around it. After an embarrassing exchange with the bartender, the conservation including parts where she drifted off into unintelligible sayings, she slowly pulled out her wallet, fumbling with the cash in the process. Finally the payment was on the counter and she was on her way out.
Entering outside Margaret found it was raining. Taking a step into the downpour she tilted her head towards the sky, letting the rain wash over her. She didn't know how long she stood there, with her head facing upwards, but when she realized she was shivering her arms wrapped around herself, fingers digging into her soaked body seeking for an ounce of warmth.
She squinted, trying to see in the darkness. Her lashes were heavy from collecting droplets of water, the offending item blurred her vision when she tried to blink; adding that to the lack of sunlight, her surroundings resembled a grey blob. Furiously her palms rubbed at her eyes, but it didn't change the way the alley looked. She grumbled indignantly, trudging on blindly. She just wanted to get out of here.
It appeared she made it back on the main street; the glow of streetlights could be seen illuminating partial pieces of the darkness, a stark contrast to the alleyway she'd been wandering in moments ago.
Margaret pulled out her phone, holding it close to her face to try and see what the blurry shapes meant. It looked like she was on the map app, or possibly her text messages. The bright idea to send a message to someone came to mind and as she was typing out a long, demanding text, a car pulled up beside her.
Her head turned slowly. A jolly smile overtook her face as she watched a familiar figure climb out, his lips pressed into a firm line that could only be recognized as disapproval.