Loving the Insane (Moriarty Fanfic)

Spy Or Not A Spy?

Chapter Eleven

Spy Or Not A Spy?

I woke up to a loud knocking at my window. The bed sheets were too warm to leave, considering outside was the bitter cold air, but when I saw who was outside my window and that they were stuck in the rain, I practically jumped out of bed to unlock the window immediately.

"Jim, what are you doing here?" I questioned groggily, rubbing me eyes, watching rain drip down his forehead.

"Good Morning to you too," he chirped, hopping through my, now open, window.

I looked over at my alarm clock and saw it was 5:49 AM. I groaned and flopped back onto my bed, wrapping myself back into the covers. "I see you're not an early-bloomer," Jim chuckled.

"I had no idea," I drawled sarcastically into my pillow.

"So, how fun was last night?" Jim asked, causing me to smile at the memories of last night.

"They definitely are different people when they're drunk. It was quite fun as a matter of fact."

"Wonderful, but I'm afraid you're forgetting something dear," he frowned, turning his head away.

"What?"

Just then, I heard a BANG of someone throwing a toilet lid up and the sound of someone gagging and throwing up. "Crap," I muttered, standing up and giving Jim a quick kiss before ushering him back out the window where he began to climb back down the fire escape.

"Carter!" I heard Jim shout from the window before I could speed through the door.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, but.....I just can't help say it enough. I love you, Carter Jones. I will always love you. You are my weakness."

I couldn't help but blush. "As do I, my knight in Westwood armor," I giggled.

Another dry-heaved gag from downstairs snapped me back into reality. "Gotta go. Bye, love," I waved, then raced downstairs in my pajamas, and into Sherlock and John's flat where John was still sleeping in his chair and Sherlock was nowhere to be found.

I searched the flat until I finally found him emptying the contents of his stomach, straight alcohol, into the loo. I sighed and leant my head against the door frame, walking back into the kitchen to get them glasses of water. I woke John up a few minutes later, right about the time when Sherlock came back from the loo. John didn't feel nauseous, but he had a major headache. I dropped an effervescent antacid tablet into each of their waters to relieve some of their pain.

"Did we do anything stupid?" John asked, taking a sip.

"That depends," I replied.

"Stupid as in....I married a girl I don't know and she doesn't even speak English?"

I snickered and John tensed. "No, you didn't do anything that stupid," I laughed and he relaxed a bit.

"So how stupid were we then?" Sherlock inquired irritatingly.

"Well, after you continuously winning rounds of Poker and almost getting into a fight, John and I had to drag you out of the bar. Then, you two moped around on the stairs for a while, wondering what you had an international reputation for, and then it ended with an.....interesting....game of Rizla.

"What do you mean by interesting?" John asked cautiously.

"Let's just say you were convinced you were a pretty lady and Sherlock was convinced he was the current King of England," I cackled.