Sherlock's POV:
I had bought John a gift for when I had left, a new jumper, it was ghastly, but he would unfortunatley adore it. It was a similar colour to the one he had chosen for tonight, another gift from myself, but this was much more expensive and soft. I had left it on my bed, so that when he went into my room after I had been deported to Europe, however long that would take, he would find a small reminder of myself despite being hundreds of miles apart. John looked perfect in a jumper, my imagination wondered leaving me picturing what he would look like in the new midnight blue, cashmere sweater I had bought for it. I was about to go and retrive the jumper and give it to John when the doorbell rang.
Molly Hooper and Graham, no, Greg Lestrade entered followed by Mrs Hudson. As they all piled into the flat my presence went unoticed. John and Mrs Hudson had kept my return a secret. Both Molly and Scotland Yard gave John sympathetic looks, after an apologetic hug from one and a polite clap on the back from the other, John could only smile. "Pity about Sherlock, John. Especially since Moriarty was back on our screens today. God knows what we'll do to stop the bastard this time"
John was still smiling back at Greg who, may I add, looked quizzical as to why John was beaming up at him considering the great loss of his bestfriend. John gave Mrs Hudson a quick sideways glance before announcing "Well Greg, I think London will be ok for quite some time" I took this as my queue to make my presence known. I stepped out of the kitchen only to see Molly and Greg's jaws drop. I heard a familiar exclamation "Oh, you Bastard!" Before Molly ran across the room and threw her arms around me. "It's bloody good to see you Sherlock, we'll need you to work tommorow considering, um, recent events, if that's not too much." Oh how he makes me laugh, the police will never be able to cope without me in London, then again the only attention that Moriarty requires is that of my own... "I'm sure that John and I can make it, as long as he's light on the wine tonight.." I send a small wink Johns way, it was barely noticble, but John must have seen because he knitted his eyebrows to try and look annoyed before grinning back at me. Molly untangled her arms from around me before saying something about missing me. God, she is still interested in me? "Speaking of wine, I'm sure Mrs Hudson will pour you all a drink."
"I'm Not your housekeeper!"
The next few hours of my life were torturuous. Is it not bad enough that I was almost torn away from London but I must now endure hours of small talk with people who are so drunk they're "rat arsed" if you pardon the expression. I have never understood the New Years Eve tradition. Yes, we're entering a new year but why does this require buckets of alcohol to be consumed and a countdown, it is a normal day, whether it is the first of a new year or not. Nothing changes. Except for blood-alcohol levels. It's a poor excuse for parties and promotional offers.
I found myself wedged between Molly and Greg on the sofa due to Mrs Hudson napping in my chair. possibly one glass too many? Greg was fawning over Molly, meanwhile Molly was fawning over me. I cannot bare this anymore. I excused myself and made my way swiftly to the kitchen. My quick exit gave me time to breathe. My usually expressionless face only showed despair tonight that was until John followed me to the kitchen. I heard him enter but stayed facing forwards, we were only 15 minutes away from the countdown then hopefully my suffering will end. John could sense my despair and he threw his arm around my shoulders "Come on Sherly, lets get you a dru-dr-DRINK" His breath smelt like pure alcohol, the familiar scent of John was lost, I prefer him sober. "You'll stop stuss-stressing" He smacked my bum before walking to the fridge to 'grab me a beer' as he so poetically put it. He just touched my arse? Ok, maybe drunk John isn't too bad. Still I refused his offer of an alcoholic beverage and stuck to my tea. It allowed me to think and my thoughts stay unclouded, there is only one thing I could think about now
John just touched my arse.
YOU ARE READING
Eastern Winds (JohnLock)
FanfictionSherlock had a lucky escape after Mycroft summoned his brother back to England since Moriarty has returned. The only thing Sherlock has been able to think about is not about Moriarty but his blogger, John Watson.
