Shirtless Sherlock and his bread shenanigans

1. An average day

You could say his office was quite cozy, they way he had decorated it himself with book selves  and posters, small reading lamps and post it notes to remind him of certain things. His desk was often neatly stacked with papers or books he was in the middle of and the few plants that were strategically placed around the room made up for the lack of colour.

The blonde man looked up from his writing, taking a quick glance at a small clock that hung on the wall as he continued to tap his pen against the desk. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Just as  William Moriarty had prompted, a young professor opened the door. She had long brown hair and wore a black suit. The sound of her heels broke the silence as she swiftly made her way over, setting a pile of flyers and papers on the desk. She sighed, clearly tired after a long day of work. "This should be everything you asked for."

He gave a quick "thank you" as she wandered back over to where she had entered. She paused in the door for a second. "And if you need anything just call me ok?" He smiled at her before looking over the papers, one of them catching his eye. The font was slanted and swirly with colours the curled along the edges to serve as a border. It read: 'For one night and one night only, Durham university are hosting a party that shouldn't be forgotten! 25 April at 8 pm. Students and teachers are allowed a plus one and drinks shall be provided.'

William was intrigued at first but soon discovered that it would probably be a really bad idea, knowing how he was when he got drunk, and tucked it into his coat pocket for safe keeping. As he put on he coat he could hear strangely familiar voices coming from the hallway outside.

 "Sir, I didn't see the point of you bringing me here." The voice sounded irritated and was that of a young man.

"Stop complaining would you? All you need to do is grab some files, its not a big deal." William certainly recognised that voice more than the first but annoyed that he couldn't match it to a face.

"Why am I the one to do it again?" William smiled as he imagined a man raising his eyebrow at the other, rolling his eyes in protest. He froze, only just processing his thoughts at who the man was. He quickly made himself busy, acting like we was taking a book off a shelf as he flicked through the pages.

He silently prayed he wouldn't open the door to his study but the universe hates him because the person who eventually opened the door was none other than Sherlock Holmes.