Michael Holmes: Secret Son of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 25: The Stag Night 1

Flashback:

"Two, um... beers, please." Sherlock said to the barman.

"Pints?"

Sherlock then proceeds to take out two tall glass graduated cylinders from his coat pockets and gives them to the barman. "Four hundred and forty-three point seven milliliters."

Sherlock and John sat down on a nearby table, and John stares at the glass almost filled with beer. "Ah..." He glances at Sherlock, who was setting a timer on his phone. "What, are we on a schedule?"

"You'll thank me." Sherlock said as they clink their cylinder against each other's and starts drinking. "Cheers." The detective smiled.

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They continue drinking as Sherlock regularly updates their alcohol levels. "Over there." Sherlock pointed to a room.

"What?" John looked at the direction Sherlock was pointing.

"Toilets. Any second now, you're going to ..."

"Hang on. Tell me after – I need the loo." He stood up from his chair and rushed towards the bathroom.

"Mmm, on schedule." Sherlock stops the timer and smiles at his phone in delight. John stumbles off, while Sherlock looks at his phone and pulls up his charts which will measure urine output against blood alcohol level. He updates the alcohol level chart and finishes it with a fancy flourish.

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"Quick, one more. He mustn't see." John drinks the shot in one gulp, humming appreciatively, then takes the second shot which the barman has brought him. The two cylinders are on the bar in front of him, full of beer, and he pours the whiskey into the left one.

He takes both of them across towards Sherlock but then stops and looks at them, apparently unable to remember which one has the shot in it. Sniffing the left one and presumably thinking that that one contains only beer, he puts it onto the table. "There you go." John hands Sherlock his cylinder.

"Thank you." Sherlock mumbled as they continue to drink.

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An hour later

Sherlock and John take a taxi back to 221B Baker Street as they try to get to bed from some sleep but fails and ends up lying on the staircase. Their eyes were closed, too tired to think, or to do anything, to be honest.

"I have an international reputation." Sherlock said, slurring. "Do you have an international reputation?"

"No, I don't have an international reputation." John replied, moving his head into a more comfortable position.

"And I can't even remember what for." Sherlock pauses to think. His memory was foggy and blurry. "Crime ... something or other."

Miss Hudson suddenly passes by the staircase while doing house chores. "Ooh! What are you doing back? I thought you were going to be out late."

"Ah, Hudders. What time is it?" Sherlock slurred, glancing at the landlady.

"You've only been out two hours." Miss Hudson frowned, looking at her watch.

Michael was up late, working on his chemistry project that was due in exactly... 10 hours and 37 minutes. He decided to head out from his room for a glass of water to freshen his mind. He heard the commotion outside and decided to check it out.