A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! Have any of you seen F.R.I.E.N.D.S.? If not you need to lol. I am beyond obsessed with the show and I was watching it last night and got some inspiration from how Ross and Rachael got together. Enjoy<3
"Gavin!"
"Still not my name Sherlock."
"Why doesn't John love me?" Sherlock whined, leaning against the DI, playing with the glass of scotch in his hand. Lestrade had dragged him along to the pub after he had come by the flat and found Sherlock setting fire to a human elbow. Now Sherlock was beyond drunk and Lestrade was finding out all sorts of things he didn't want to know.
"Maybe it has something to do with Mary?" Greg pushed the drunk man off him, having to quickly grab him and correct his position as the lanky man nearly fell off his stool.
"Mary, perfect Mary. I hate Mary."
"No, you don't."
"No, I can't hate her. Why can't I hate her George?"
"Beats the hell out of me."
"It's not fair. She gets to get fucked by John. Why can't John fuck me Geoff?"
"I'm going to play the Mary card one last time." Sherlock sighed heavily and smashed his head against the bar, growling in frustration. Lestrade waved apologetically at the bartender and pulled the drunk man upright, checking for permanent damage before pulling out his phone and sending a text to Mycroft, asking for him to send a car to pick up him and Sherlock.
"Why does it have to hurt Marshall?"
"Okay, that isn't even close to my name."
"How do you get over someone you have to see every day?"
"I don't know Sherlock, you just have to find that one thing that gives you the strength to say to him, 'John, I'm over you.'" Sherlock was quiet for a few minutes, seemingly thinking about Greg's words. Greg jumped as Sherlock suddenly smacked his hand against the bar.
"I should get a dog!"
"Oh, no."
"I will name it John!"
"Sherlock-"
"I must call John and tell him." Greg thought about stopping Sherlock, he really did, but something told him that this could wind up being very interesting. He watched Sherlock struggle with his phone for a few minutes before he decided to help the man. He grabbed the phone and flipped it the right way up.
"It was upside down."
"Ah! Thank you, Barbra."
"And that's a woman's name."
"John! I am getting a dog!" Sherlock sounded gleeful as he spoke into the phone. He covered the bottom of the phone and dramatically whispered at Greg. "It went to voicemail." Greg chuckled for a moment. "I am going to name it John. Or maybe Michael, seeing as how I am out with Mitchel right now. It was his idea. See? I'm out with other men, that proves that I. Am. Over. You." He hung up the phone and dramatically dropped it on the ground, grinning proudly as he finished his scotch. Greg's phone went off, signalling the arrival of their car. He stood, scooping up the phone and draping the drunk detective's arm over his shoulders, gripping his waist and hauling him to his feet. He stumbled out of the pub and poured the detective into the car before clambering in behind him.
When the car arrived at Baker Street, he pulled Sherlock out of the car, telling the driver to just go home. He decided to stay at Sherlock's, too tired to find his own way home. He stumbled up the stairs and hauled the tangle of limbs down the hall to his room. He dropped Sherlock onto the bed and stumbled up to John's old room. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
