A Study At Bullimore

15

So, they went to the off license near the pub and bought more booze, but it mattered little to John whether they drunk or not. He liked spending time with his friends; it made him feel that he was finding his place in this strange place, that maybe he was meant to be here after all. Sherlock, of course, went to the counter once they collected their bottles. He was known round the village, he had lived there since he was born, so the owner of the off license simply laughed when Sherlock tried to buy his bottles, he asked him what he would like from behind the counter, and gave it to him at no charge. The men were thoroughly impressed by this.

"We should keep you around Sherlock. That's even better than Mike." Greg said jokingly as they walked down the cobbled street, the bottles banging together. Sherlock pocketed a packet of cigarettes he had just bought, slipping one between his lips.
"That's the only reason?" Sherlock replied with a deep chuckle that made John's stomach flip.
"Yep." Greg responded with a light grin, passing John a bottle of amber coloured liquid. He didn't check its contents, but he was sure it was some form of whisky.

They trailed back up the hill towards the university. John wasn't exactly sure where they were going, and he didn't think the others did either, the fields either side of them rolling far away. It was nice to see that they were all getting along, Sherlock laughing every now and again to something Mike or Greg said. It was very out of character for him, but he seemed happy so that was enough for John.

The sun was now setting, half the sky inked a darkening blue and the rest a fantastic orange, the clouds tinted yellow by the dying sunlight. Mike beckoned them off the track they had walked up and towards a field. It wasn't too far from the main building, in fact John could see the outline of the roof against the sky. They took it in turns to hop the fence. John curled his hands round the wood, damp from rain, and hoisted himself over. He wobbled for a moment, allowing himself to securely get upright and then jump into the field below. The mud squished beneath his feat, Mike throwing the bottles into the field, and they landed with a soft bump. John smiled to himself as he picked up the bottles, walking towards Sherlock and Greg, who had jumped the fence already. They watched Mike fumble and fall to the ground, the mud imprinting on his shirt. Mike stood back up, laughed, wiped his muddy hands on his trousers and joined them. Mike, it seemed, was a light weight.
They walked deeper into the field, the 4 of them walking shoulder to shoulder in silence. John listened to the birds in the trees and hedges call to each other, a gentle melody for the sunset. It was an empty field of nothing more than grass and trees. The October air had become increasingly chilly and John as glad to be wearing a jumper. Sherlock, on the other hand, only donned his shirt and shifted uncomfortably when there was a sudden gust of wind.

"Are you cold, Sherlock?" John asked him as they sat. The sun had been set only for a few moments, but John could immediately tell that it was affecting Sherlock.
"I'm fine, John." He responded with a nod and Mike laughed lightly, passing round an assortment of snacks.
"You can take my jumper if you want." He was meant to make it sound like a sincere request, but in reality, John sounded almost desperate.
"John, really, I'm okay. Thank you though." And John could barely see his face in the twilight that was ever darkening, but he could tell there was a small, gentle smile pressed on Sherlock's lips.

The night progressed and the conversation was taken up mostly by Mike. The more he drunk, the more confused he seemed to be, until for a solid 20-minute period he was rambling on and on about his brand of shoes. John wasn't sure why or how Mike got onto this topic as he had started by talking about his favourite flower, but it was entertaining enough. The others were in fits of silent laughter, including Sherlock, and it even funnier due to the high amounts of alcohol in their systems. Mike was ridiculous. Harmless and kind but gullible and stupid when drunk. John felt sleepy, his brain vibrating in his skull as he watched Mike do impressions of the teachers they shared.