Thanks so much for the follows/favorites and reviews! You all make me smile so much! Here's Chapter 8. I tried to bring some humor in. It does get a little angsty after this chapter, but it will cheer up again soon after that. This is the set-up to the angst. Hope you enjoy. Oh and this is in no way based off of personal expereince...much. hehe :)
Chapter 8
It's rather funny, Addie mused. How such great minds like hers and her brothers could make such rash and stupid decisions. She supposed that their brains, being too overcrowded with knowledge and abilities, needed to weed out the less important things. And usually those things had to do with common sense and intelligent decision making.
Sherlock, being his usual "sociopathic" self, was normally the one who found himself in these stupid situations and suffering their consequences. However, this time it was Sherlock who managed to have a level head, and Addie who was the one completely off her rocker.
In her defense though, she did have a very powerful agent to blame for her poor decision making to a certain extent, but there was no denying her complete idiocy at landing herself in the situation in the first place.
It was following a particularly long and tedious case. It had them all frazzled, on edge, and at each other's throats. There were times they doubted their ability to solve it and considered the notion of giving up. But, the power of the 'Holmes duo' played out and the case was solved. Another victory won and another disaster diverted.
Lestrade was over the moon and felt he owed them all a little something for their hard work and dedication. He offered to buy them all rounds at the local pub and anything else they might like. Sherlock and Addie were fit to decline and go home, but something in Addie had her rethinking that. Her curiosity was winning the battle over her rationality and she found herself accepting the offer and following them all to the pub. Sherlock, ever her bodyguard, reluctantly followed. Addie had never been exposed much to alcohol, being barely 18 when she "died." Most people, at that age, would have been well acquainted with alcohol and its effects on their bodies, even being below the legal drinking age, but most people didn't have two big brothers like Mycroft and Sherlock who were quick to remove any temptation of any kind from her path.
Addie was tempted by the forbidden aspect of alcohol, seeing as she was never allowed to have it, it being yet another thing on her list of "do nots" she endlessly received from her brothers. But now, being 24, well past the age of legality, she was free to explore her curiosities and temptations, Sherlock and his protectiveness be damned.
The pub atmosphere was none too exciting and impressive to Addie. She decided drinking alcohol at home would be much more pleasant, not to mention much more convenient when one found themselves having consumed more than enough.
It started out innocently. A glass of wine and some water. Simple enough. But Lestrade insisted she get something at least a tad bit stronger if she was going to join in their festivities. He also insisted he would be sorely offended if she didn't take advantage of his hospitality by ordering something of importance.
This was how Addie ended up taking her first shot of hard liquor.
"No. She can't take you up on your offer Lestrade. I won't allow it," Sherlock said at the mention of ordering shots.
"What are you, her mother?" Lestrade said.
Sherlock pursed his lips and set his jaw. "Worse. I'm her big brother."
"Oh, get over yourself Sherlock! I'm 24 and I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself," Addie replied. Little did she know those words would come back to bite her in the butt later on.
Addie downed her first shot amidst the chanting and cheering of John and Lestrade, who were well past their fair share. She got dizzy on the spot, being the lightweight she is, and Sherlock had to steady her to keep her balance. She shook him off and righted herself. She was perfectly fine and he was overreacting.
Somehow they ended up in a battle. Whoever could consume the most shots. Addie gave up after three, not fancying dying of alcohol poisoning, a decision she made even in her slightly buzzed mind.
Now knowing her aversion to shots, she settled for mixed drinks, less potent and much better tasting. In fact, they seemed to mask the bitter taste of alcohol almost completely. It was these that got her into trouble.
By her 4th drink she was feeling happier than a clam. Although that expression didn't make much sense. How could one measure the amount of happiness in a clam? And what would a clam have to be happy about anyways? Her drunken musings started spilling out of her head like the vodka spilled out of the 4th shot Lestrade ordered her.
"I find this completely fascinating; pubs. Such a public place, everyone getting hammered, trying to drown out their miserable days or weeks. Yet there's a companionship one experiences in the atmosphere. Like a kinship united by alcohol and being fostered by their inability to retain or care about common social rules and propriety," Addie rambled as she stared completely focused into the remnants of her vodka and orange. It almost appeared as if she was talking to the glass rather than those around her. And perhaps she was.
"Yes because you've always been one to focus on societal rules and propriety," Sherlock retorted.
Addie childishly stuck her tongue out at him and went back to staring at her glass. She suddenly found herself with another full glass of who-knows-what courtesy of John.
Sherlock tried to grab the glass from her hand but she pulled away from him, nearly sending herself crashing to the ground in the process. Sherlock was there to catch her and he whispered in her ear, "Enough Addie, you've had your share enough to satisfy Lestrade."
"Who says I'm doing this for him? I like alcohol Sherlock. It's good. Well, when the taste is masked by something of course. These mixed drinks are fascinating! How they can manage to make the drink taste like soda is a complete wonder!"
Sherlock knew it needed to end there, when his sister was finding fascination in beverages. Unluckily for him though, Addie was just as stubborn as any other Holmes.
It was the final shot that did her in. A harmless little chug of whiskey that sent her over the edge. She suddenly found everything around her hilarious and she couldn't stop laughing if she tried. Apparently Sherlock was not as amused as she was because he was insisting she stop her ridiculous giggling and leave with him.
She shouted a rather loud, "Piss off spoil-sport," at him, then laughed about the absurdity of the phrase 'spoil-sport'.
Lestrade and John, being the experienced drinkers they were, had come down from their alcohol induced highs and were also trying to reason with Addie about leaving the pub. Although she was a fairly small girl, it took the combined efforts of all three to get her to her feet and shuffling towards the door seeing as she was fighting them all the way, blowing kisses to various patrons and the bartender, emotionally thanking them for existing and for being a part of her night.
Finally outside, Addie was able, with the help of the night air, to clear some of her brain, unfortunately just the part that included feeling the response of one's body to certain exposures. She was now aware of being cold, dizzy, nauseous, and badly needing the loo. But those were all put on the back burner in comparison to her anger.
She was angry at her friends for taking away her happiness in a glass and she saw fit to tell them exactly how upset she was. She had a rather rude and clever insult to shoot at them, but unfortunately, all her inebriated mind could come up with was,
"You guys suck!"
"Wonderfully enlightening Addie. Glad to see your cleverness has not been lost to the alcohol," Sherlock sarcastically replied.
"You think you're so clever with your…big brain and…big coat. You just look like a poor imitation of batman and his huge cape. And your low voice, trying to intimidate people. It's hard to hear the intimidation over the sound of you being so bossy!" Addie yelled.
"Right, gross over-reactions. Check."
"You're gross!" Addie childishly shot back.
"Let's just work on getting home shall we? I've got a headache," John spoke up.
Lestrade had wandered away sometime during the confrontation and Sherlock saw him get in a cab. He'd be going to him tomorrow to thank him for all of this.
"Well, that's what happens when you engage in such idiotic activities," Sherlock said.
"Oh, like you've never indulged in anything Sherlock. Need I remind you…" Sherlock growled at him to stop before he said anything in front of Addie who was still in the dark about his addictions.
Lucky for them Addie was three sheets to the wind and actually beginning to look a little green. Sherlock grew concerned and turned to steady her.
Her eyes were unfocused and she was very pale. She seemed to be swallowing convulsively and trying to open her mouth to say something. The only warning he got was a panicked, "Sherlock!" before she flung forward and threw up on his shoes, getting on the leg of his trousers also.
She moaned, then cried a bit, before laughing at the look on John and Sherlock's faces. John decided now that they had to get moving if they were going to make it back in one piece. He was pretty sure Sherlock looked ready to kill.
He led Addie carefully to the edge of the sidewalk as he searched for a cab. Addie was protesting any form of movement however.
"John! Let me go back inside!"
"Nope. We're done. Time to go home," John said.
"But I hafta…I gotta…pee!" She said, swaying slightly.
John and Sherlock exchanged glances, trying to decide if they should allow her to go back in alone, or take her back in themselves and wait for her until she finished her business to ensure she didn't sneak off the to the bar again.
Their silent conversation was cut-off by an amused and drunken, "Oooops. Too late."
Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes. John looked horrified next to him as they turned to look at her. She looked torn between laughing and crying. Then suddenly she stumbled and her eyes rolled back in her head. Sherlock and John were quick to catch her before she could hit the pavement and they both stood there holding her awkwardly not knowing how to proceed.
A cab was now out of the question as no one would let them in with her pants being wet. They needed another way to get a ride home. Sherlock hated to do it, but he was left with no other option. He placed a quick call to Mycroft then vowed to never let his sister near alcohol ever again.