A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! I know, I know.... I'm supposed to be finishing Tiny Dancer.... but I got distracted..... This is just to fill in the time while I work on Tiny Dancer... I hope you like it... Kind of a fun little thing... Enjoy <3
*Also... I got a new puppy.... His name is Bilbo Puggins... I posted some pics in my Get to Know Me book if y'all wanna see him... you can also follow his instagram @bilbo_puggins if you wanna see some of his adventures....*
"Watson." John raised his glass towards his old army mate, Bulldog, who had draped himself over John's shoulder. "Do you remember that night when we all got drunk and went to Barcelona?" John laughed, shaking his head and fighting back the blush that rose on his neck.
"How could I forget Barcelona?" Bulldog laughed, shaking John roughly and taking another swig of beer.
"Isn't that where you shagged that gorgeous waitress with the flower tattoo on her tit?" John groaned, dropping his head against the table and laughing. "God, what was her name again?"
"That was almost thirty years ago-" a spark of memory flited its way across his mind, making the blush on his cheeks darken as he avoided Bulldog's gaze. "Even if I wanted to, I doubt I could remember their name-"
"Wait, didn't Watson hook up with the bartender in Barcelona?" One of his other friends piped up from the other end of the bar, setting off a chain of affirmative shouts and whistles. John groaned again, slamming his face against the wood again.
Barcelona had been one of the only nights John had taken on one of his crew's challenges, letting them pick someone in the bar for him to take home. They had chosen the very male bartender, and since John had yet to back down from a challenge, that night had also become the night he had bottomed drunk for the first time.
"How 'bout it Watson? Wanna show us mere mortals how it's done?" John choked on his breath, coughing and shaking his head, trying to wave his friends off.
"No, absolutely not, no." The pub was filled with shouts and pleas as his friends tried to talk him into picking up whatever pretty thing caught his eye.
"Come on Watson, how long's it been, eh?" John huffed an awkward laugh, shaking his head and cursing the blush that continued to darken his cheeks. "Come on, show this group of slags why we used to call you 'Three Continents' Watson." The group cheered again, clapping him on the shoulders and chattering about some of his greatest pulls.
"'Three Continents' Watson, eh?" A new voice appeared by John's side, startling him slightly. He turned to find Lestrade sitting next to him, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Greg? What uh- what are you doing here? I thought you and Sherlock had a case tonight?" Lestrade nodded, motioning over his shoulder at the skinny detective that was pouting at the end of the bar.
"We did, but it was going no where, and I've been working too many doubles to make it through a shift with him, without having a few doubles." John laughed, he knew better than anyone what it was like trying to deal with a pouty Sherlock with too little sleep. "That aside, 'Three Continents' Watson, eh?" John groaned, dropping his head against the bar again and laughing. "What was that nick-name about?" John sighed, pushing himself off the bar and opening his mouth to explain.
"Please Geoffrey," Sherlock's bored voice flitted over the music and voices, "surely you aren't that idiotic?" John sent his flatmate a glare, not horribly shocked when he received a sarcastic eye-roll in return. "Its obviously an unoriginal attempt to brag about the conquests, most of which were most likely fabricated-"
