#klaraneedsanotherseason

[lilsherlockian1975]

Sherlolly, 17 :)

meeting up at a party whilst drunk AU - Awesome! Thanks, sweetness! There are a few bad words in this one, nothing awful. Hope you like! ~Lil~

The room was spinning. Those last two (or four) vodka shots were a really bad idea. Molly tried to look normal and not at all wobbly as she made her way outside, hoping the fresh air would clear her head and hold off the nausea. 

Unfortunately, her vision blurred just as she stepped onto the terrace and she ran directly into a brick wall. “Fuckin’ wall!” Wait… brick walls don’t wear clothes. Slowly raising her head, she saw that the wall was actually a tall angry looking man. “Sorry,” she said or at least tried too.

“No harm done,” the wall… man said.

Molly tried to step around him to find a place to sit down but he took her by the elbow, stopping her progress. 

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, especially blind drunk.” He led her to a stone bench and guided her to sit.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, actually. You came with two other females, where are they?” he demanded.

“How’d..?”

“Immaterial. Did they leave? How are you supposed to get home in this condition?”

The wall-man asked a lot of questions. She couldn’t really keep up.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket. “John, where are you? You dragged me to this blasted party then disappeared!”

Wall-man was pissed at John; Molly felt bad for him. 

“I’ve found a girl… NO! Not like that, you idiot! She’s been abandoned and I need to get her home.” He paused and looked at her for a second. “NOT LIKE THAT! You know what, forget it! I’ll deal with this myself.” He put away the device and studied her. “The leggy brunette you came with left twenty minutes after you arrived. I lost track of the blonde but she wasn’t inside last time I was in there.” 

“Mkay…”

“Do you know where you live?”

Molly nodded. 

“Can you tell me?”

She shook her head. “You might be a killer, wall-man.”

He smirked. “Indeed. At least you still have some good sense.” He hauled her up by her arm. “You need water and carbs. I know an all-night diner close by that’s nice and public. There’ll be no wall-man killings tonight. Let’s get you sobered up.”

Two hours later, Molly sat across from the man (no longer wall-man), sipping water and finishing up her French toast. She felt better, though she knew that she’d be paying for her overindulgence for the next twenty-four hours. 

Sherlock, he had told her his name shortly after they’d sat down in the booth (he also kept repeating it whilst she ate because he said she wouldn’t remember it! How would she forget a name like Sherlock?), was drinking coffee and watching her closely. 

“I’m not going to die of alcohol poisoning now, thank you,” she said, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. 

“Perhaps not.” He didn’t look like he believed her.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” she argued. 

“You thought I was a wall. Then a wall-man. Then your primary school boyfriend.”

She was glad that she hadn’t mentioned that, for a moment, she also thought he was the reincarnation of her dead Uncle Calvin. 

“You didn’t go to that party to drink, why were you there?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“I was drinking, however, I can hold my liquor unlike you. And I went to support a friend.” He looked away. “I’ve never had one before, I didn’t know they were so much work.”

“Never had what?”

“A friend,” he replied.

She must have looked confused because he went on. 

“John, my flatmate, he made me come with him because there was this girl there that he wanted to chat up. I don’t see the point of trying to talk to a woman when she’s downing Jello shots. If you’re really interested in getting to know them, wouldn’t you want to do it when they’re sober?”

Molly shrugged. She was still stuck on the ‘never had a friend before’ bit, but asked, “Who was the girl?”

“I don’t know. I never got to see her. Not a single deduction,” he said absently. “That was clearly deliberate. He’s hiding this one, for some reason.”

He seemed to slip into deep thought so Molly contented herself with drinking the rest of her water.

A few moments later he emerged from…wherever he’d been and went right back to bitching about this ‘John’. “Anyway, I did it. I went there and proved that I care about his interests. He says I’m a selfish wanker.” He huffed. “Would a selfish wanker make sure you weren't abducted by some sex-obsessed meat head?”

Molly shook her head.

“Exactly! Would a selfish wanker bring you to a restaurant instead of letting you pass out in an alley to choke on your own vomit?”

She shook her head again.

“See! You get it!” He looked across the room, once again, seemingly lost in thought for several minutes before he spoke again. “This is why I don’t like people, Molly, they make you look at yourself and evaluate your life. I was perfectly fine not caring about those around me until John sodding Watson dropped into my world, telling me that I could be better. Saying stupid shit like, ‘people make you stronger, Sherlock! Your friends you define you and keep you grounded’.” Taking an aggressive drink of his coffee, he continued on his diatribe, “Now, look at me! Sitting across from a pretty girl, eating a meal like a normal bloke! He’s ruining me!”

Though much more sober, Molly was still having a hard time keeping up with his rapid-fire speech. She’d caught most of it, but then got hung up on the bit at the end. Pretty girl? Before she could comment, however, he was back to it.

“I wouldn’t have even noticed you if it hadn’t been for him. The arsehole! He pointed you out the minute you walked through the door. Can’t deduce to save his life but somehow he knows my type even though I’ve never once mentioned my preference for petite, brainy, brunettes. Do you know him?”

The question caught her off guard. She shook her head as she tried to think if she knew someone named John. “I don’t believe…”

He waved his hand. “I already know the answer to that.”

“How?”

“Just like I know by the way you hold your fork that you’re a medical student. You don’t go to Barts, though. St. Mary’s, I’d say.”

“That’s spooky.”

“No, it’s deduction. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help us with our problem. I’ll need more information for that.”

“What’s our problem?”

“How, Molly? How did he do that? How did he know I’d be interested in you out of all the girls at that party?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but he went on…

“It must be his superpower, or something,” he said dismissively. He was clearly kidding. It had taken the better part of two hours and more breakfast food than she’d ever eaten at one sitting, but she’d started to get accustomed to his biting wit.

“He failed organic chemistry twice but he can spot an attractive, available woman at a hundred yards.” He leant forward. “That’s what we have to find out, Molly. How did he know I’d be interested in you?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know either, but I intend to find out.” He looked down at her plate then back to her face. “Are you done?”

“Yes.” She’d been finished for fifteen minutes, but he was on a roll and she didn’t want to be rude.

“I’ll go take care of the cheque and get us a cab.”

She started to speak up and offer to pay her half, but he was gone. What a strange man, she thought. Gorgeous, but strange. And he seemed to like her. Though he also seemed angry about it for some reason. Maybe the night hadn’t been a total bust after all. If things went well she’d really owe her new friend Mary for dragging her to that party. 

Sherlock returned, holding her jacket. “Come along, Molly. We have a mystery to solve.” He helped her put it on.

“Really?”

“Actually, I have a mystery to solve. Your job is to be impressed and try not to distract me with your attractiveness.”

She smiled and bit her lip.

“Well, don’t do that! Lip biting is strictly forbidden!”

“Why?”

With a roll of his eyes, he said, “Because it makes me want to kiss you senseless, obviously.” Then he stormed out of the restaurant. 

Molly followed, though she wasn’t sure if she should. The man was either unstable or a genius… or both. But she was intrigued, she couldn’t deny that. It was the most fun she’d had in ages and she was sort of invested this ‘John’ situation. 

“Where are we going?” she asked as she sat next to him in the cab.

He turned and smiled mischievously at her. “Would you like to watch me break into my flatmate’s room and search through his things. I’ll teach you how to look for clues and make deductions. We’ll find out loads of embarrassing things about him. His porn collection alone should be enough blackmail for about a year.”

God help her, but that did sound like fun! 

Thanks, love! Hope you liked it! ~Lil~

[were-monkey]

Wardrobe Wednesday Questions Game Tagged by @boomheda

Rules: you know the drill, answer the questions, tag some people.

1) Grounder Braids or Soft s6 Curls?

Both tbh, braids during the fighting scenes and curls when walking around being pretty

2) If you could have one character swap styles with another, who would you pick?

hmm... Tough one. I’d like to see Bellamy in Johns demigod look tho.

3) if you could see one character in the clothes of another’s “people” who would you pick?

Bellamy the demigod pls.

4) Mount Weather Style or Sanctum Style?

Sanctum, even though it is very excessive, it was still very pretty and everyone was giving me hella hearteyes.

5) Skaikru Style or Grounder Style

Grounder, because I like the rough edge about that. Layers!!! Tatoos!!!

6) Azgeda Crown or Heda Red Sash?

Heda Sash. Looked very hot. 

7) biggest the 100 style icon?

Tbh John is such a queen and he tries to hide it very well but he loves his fashion.

8) pick a character and your favourite look for them!

Again, I’d like to see Bellamy in some fancy af suit or something like that.

Feel free to ignore or add a question!

Tagging:@if--these--wings--could--fly @wriots @kimmichsworld @klaraneedsanotherseason @youreastardarling (idk if you guys watch the 100)

[festeringfae]

@klaraneedsanotherseason well.. Star Wars was also cited on this post that I added an offhand comment to over a year ago that I still get messages from strangers on, but no one ever mentions Star Wars, or that this is Patton Oswalt’s fucking commentary, not mine, from a comedy special (ergo: commentary that’s not meant to be taken 100% literally) so maybe that obnoxious and condescending sense of cult around him has more to do with why I made the comment in the first place than the man himself. 

”The woman’s got to show up, [like], “We all done, sweetie? Okay. Out you go, I gotta make a story out of this mess.”