30 Days (Kind of) to Fall in Love
The prompt is inspired by ericandy's 30 day OTP challenge on Tumblr. Also, not a gamer, at all, so this is my version of "gaming." Also, for those who portray Sherlock as never drinking liquor, it's in the books, as is late night drinking between Watson and Holmes. Thanks ACD!
Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock Holmes, the rest of the world would never see him Not mine.
3. Gaming/Watching a movie
John Watson was seriously regretting his decision to challenge Sherlock Holmes to a drinking game. Neither man was sober, but John knew he was already going to feel ill the next day and was sure that being fully hung over was not far away. However, in return for this, he had gotten quite a few "truths" out of Sherlock. John had been contently working on his new Vince Flynn novel when Sherlock had become truly unruly. He had tried sitting him in front of the telly for something terrible; he had tried calling Lestrade and begging him for some sort of case. Nothing on the website or the blog had attracted anything worth investigating.
So, John had decided to try engage Sherlock in a drinking game. While an actual game might have been less dangerous, the consulting detective found it difficult to confine himself to the actual rules of the game. Not to mention that, in games such as Poker, any front that John might try to put up, the other man could see right through it. They had thus ended up at a weird version of Truth or Dare. Since neither really wanted to leave the flat or do anything, it was more just Truth. Any refusal to answer a question was solved with a shot of whiskey. So far neither had really wanted to answer anything and so they were both well on their way to being full on drunk.
Curiosity and lowered inhibitions getting the better of him, John went for a question that had been plaguing him for a while. "What were you thinking about for three days last week?" he asked.
Sherlock frowned. "Molly," he answered.
"Molly Hooper?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"John, that would be the third question you've asked. You'll have to wait for your next turn."
John sighed. "Alright, go," he responded.
Sherlock thought for a moment. "How does one bring about the subject of having sex with one's girlfriend," he asked.
John's eyes popped out of his head. "What? Sherlock, why are you asking me that? I thought you were married to your work?"
"Well I happen to have acquired a girlfriend and I believe that I should like to at least attempt having sex with her to see if it is enjoyable as everyone says it is," he responded non-chalantly.
"Well, you talk with her about it, wait, are you saying you've never had sex before," he asked.
"I'll assume that's your next question, and the answer is no, I haven't," Sherlock answered. "How does one 'talk about it'? Is it appropriate to simply ask if she would like to have sex?"
"Hang on, just hang on a minute. Who the hell is your 'girlfriend?' And since when are you into having girlfriends?" John fairly shouted. He was quite confused by this change in his friend.
"John, you have yet to answer my question. Either answer or drink, and then I shall answer you."
Sighing, the doctor spoke, "well, you just sort of start talking about it. Sometimes one thing leads to another, but other times you do well to actually talk about it and make sure everyone is on the same page. For you, I'd recommend seriously talking about it since you're a virgin, can't believe Mycroft wasn't joking about that, and you clearly are rather lacking in this department. Now, tell me, who is your girlfriend?"
"Molly."
"Molly Hooper?!" John shouted. He hadn't thought that Sherlock would ever return Molly's feelings for him. Then the realization came to John that during those three days on the couch, Sherlock had been in his mind palace, trying to work out his feelings for the pathologist.
"Indeed," Sherlock responded, pulling out his phone and sending a text. "If that's all, I think I'll retire for the evening," he said, and stood, draining the remaining whiskey in his glass. "Good night John," he said and went down the hall to his room.
John sat in shock, but a smile slowly made its way onto his face. As long as Sherlock didn't mess anything up too badly, this may turn out all right in the end.
Molly heard her phone ping in her pocket as she worked at the microscope. Setting down the notes she had been taking, she retrieved her phone.
I'm bored. SH
Well, what would you like me to do about that? xxx M
IDK. We could play a game. SH
What would you like to play? I am at work, btw. xxx M
Truth or dare? SH
Sure. You go first. xxx M
What are you wearing right now? SH
Oh my, getting a bit racy are we? Well, I've got on tan slacks and a pink jumper. And my lab coat of course. Same question to you. xxx M
Nothing. I'm in bed. Do you want to have sex with me? SH
Molly blanched at her phone. Even though it was going on one in the morning, she looked around guiltily at the text she had just received. She sighed, trying to figure out how best to respond. Having seen many a relationship ruined by dishonesty and insecurity, she decided to be honest with him.
Wow, that was not what I was expecting. Um, yes. But as I said, I am at work right now… xxx M
Sherlock was relieved to see her response. As much as he hated to admit it, he had been a bit nervous about the whole thing. It was rather a personal question and he wasn't sure what he would do if she had said no.
Well, I understand that. I didn't mean now, obviously. John and I have been drinking and I don't think that it would be quite proper for me to ask you to come over. What are you doing tomorrow night? SH
That's called a booty call, and thank you for not asking me to do that, though I can't say that the thought of you, naked in bed, isn't a rather tempting thought. I've got tomorrow night and the day after off, so, you? xxx M
I'm not busy either. I thought that was clear. And you think about me? SH
Oh, wow, that failed. I meant that I might could be doing you tomorrow night. And of course I think about you. I have for years. xxx M
Molly, along with joking, please avoid using double modals as well. It really doesn't do for proper conversation. Where do you think about me? SH
Sherlock became disconcerted at the lack of a response. He had been hoping that this might lead to something called "sexting" that he had read about. After 20 minutes, his phone pinged.
Sorry, car accident, three dead teens. Have to go. See you tomorrow night? Mine or yours? xxx M
I'll pick you up at 7. I believe it is proper to at least buy dinner for the woman that you'd like to bed. SH
Molly blushed as she looked at her phone and allowed a huge smile to overtake her face. She might have to deal with three distraught families and three corpses, but she would get to have sex with Sherlock Holmes tomorrow night, and that made everything all right.