Sherlock preferences

When you're drunk

Sherlock-
You tend to be the 'emotional drunk', which is bad seen as Sherlock is your boyfriend. Despite his intelligence, he has never been the best at dealing with emotions from other people so when you get drunk, things kind of fall into chaos...
You, Mary, Molly and a few other girlfriends had been out on the town celebrating Mary's birthday. The night ended with a bang (quite literally) when Mary set off a huge party popper in the pub and consequently, you were all thrown out. It was around midnight and you were all high as kites -you had downed 7 shots each after all- but somehow, you had managed to hail a taxi and make the delirious slog back to yours and Sherlock's flat, 221b.
"Iiiiii'm hoooomeeeeee!" You yelled giddily as you threw your alcohol weakened body onto the sofa, only narrowly missing the coffee table.
"Oh, hello (y/n)... Had a good night?" Sherlock asked, a little unsure of what to do
"What d'you meeeen by thattt?" You slurred with mock dominance.
"What?" He replied, utterly perplexed.
"You don't love me do you
Sherly?? Please love meeeee!" You wailed, flailing your arms about the flat like a camp windmill. You meandered across to the mantle piece and started going through Sherlock's things..."oh mr skully?.... W..whyy does nobody love mee?"
By this point, Sherlock was terrified, he was getting ready to call Mrs Hudson for reinforcements but decided to calm you down himself.
"(Y/n)? You don't know what you are saying do you?... I think you need sleep..."
At that moment, you collapsed to the floor in a ball of tears, and smeared makeup. Sherlock, having no other choice, just picked you up and plopped you down in bed, not even attempting to get you into pyjamas.
"Get some sleep babe..." He cooed
"But sherrlyyy... I'm not shleeepy at alll ... I... I.... I'm....."
You fell asleep fairly swiftly without any further protest after that. Sherlock had to escape to his mind palace and create a new sub section 'dealing with drunk girlfriend'.

John-
Around John, you are always the 'party drunk', nothing can bring you down from your high after a few ciders and your energy just sky rockets.
One night, John took you to a bar on the outskirts of London after you'd finished working on a case. He decided to treat you to a few gin and tonics throughout the night but you also took some shots in secret. By nine o clock, you were completely bouncing off the walls!
"Babe, maybe we should head back" John suggested, clearly disturbed by your excess of energy.
"But johhnnn! Don't be so boooring! Come and dance with meee..."
Before letting him answer, you had grabbed his weary hand and dragged him forcefully on to the dance floor. Grinning slightly, John tried to dance along to the now blaring melody (you were singing along of course)
"Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me, I said you're holding back, she said SHUT UP AND DANCE WITH ME!!!" Your warbling, drunken solo made John giggle as he spun you around cheerily. The room was now deluded with flashing lights and the music was booming with obscurity. So much so, in fact, that your head began to throb and you had to make a swift exit before you threw up.
"Thank you forr a grreeat night Johnnn" you said kissing him as you fell through the doorway to your bedroom.
"It was great wasn't it?" John assured as you kissed again.
"Lettsss do it again sometime..." You giggled, slur road you face planted the bed, making John laugh yet again.

Mycroft-
Much to Mycroft's despair, you b come very self deprecating when you are drunk. Not always, but after a certain amount of alcohol, the fun fades down and you are left with a torturous mess left inside your head. You don't do it on purpose, it just happens. And Mycroft is the one who has to put you back together...
It was Greg's birthday party. Greg invited Sherlock, Sherlock invited Mycroft and so subsequently, you were invited too. The event was meant to be a nice casual affair with music, some punch and a relaxed, mellow atmosphere. And it was perfect! Until Sally Donovan decided to spike the punch with vodka and rum.....
"Mycroft..." You whined as you sat, hunched over, in one of the hallway chairs at the yard.
"What is it precious?" Mycroft cooed gently in response, trying to calm you down after you escaped from the cacophony of the office party.
"Why are you with me?.."
"What?" Mycroft replied, confused.
"Why did you choose me myc?... You are a Holmes for gods sake! You could have any woman under the sun! Why me?" You made the long, slow whine again which made him kneel before you.
"I'll tell you why... You are possibly the most amazing, intelligent, talented, beautiful woman I've ever met. I don't believe in perfection but (y/n) you are damn close..."
Just as he finished his heartfelt sentence, you burst out into floods of warm tears which distorted your makeup, leaving blotchy patches on your face.
"You really mean that?"
"Of course I do!"
"T...thank you Mycroft."
"It's true... I love you"
"Love you too"

Greg-
As distressing as it may be for Greg, you are the flirty King of drunk. This is not taken lightly by Greg at all. At parties, he never lets you out of his sight when there is alcohol involved and isn't afraid to step in if he believes someone is getting a little 'too close for comfort'.
"Come onnn greeeg! I've only had like four!" You retorted after Greg dismissed the idea of you buying another drink.
"You have had a lot sweet pea. D'you think we should call it a night?"
He placed his hand on your shoulder and smiled sympathetically before you shook him off and headed back toward the bar.
"One larger and lime please"! You slurred at the bartender as you attempted to mound a particularly high barstool.
"Larger and lime? That's not a very elegant drink for such a pretty thing like you dear." He replied, smiling slyly
As Greg viewed the whole encounter. You giggled flirtatiously and placed your hands on his while he leant forward to look into your eyes. Greg approached you and leant, an both arms, on the front of the bar and called to the tender.
"Oi, you liking that one there?" Greg questioned, pointing to you on the rickety barstool.
"Yeah!" He replied gruffly "a bit of alright ain't she?"
Greg just starred in horror and awe.
"Well sir!" He retorted "it may shock you to know that this is my girlfriend! She is not just a 'bit of alright', she is amazing! The most beautiful woman I've ever known so do me a favour and PISS OFF!"
He then proceeded to defensively grab your arm and lead you away from the rude man at the bar.
"You ok babe?" He re assured.
"Yes... Yeah. Thank you."
"No problem love"