Come have a drink with John~

[drpsychosomatic]

WHO: Dr. John Watson and... you, if you like! As long as you are of legal age to drink, I guess.
WHERE: The most pub-looking bar John can find within a walkable radius of his flat
WHEN: After moving in with Sherlock to their new place in the City
WARNINGS: None really. John's a fairly well-behaved drunk. Mostly.
SUMMARY: John's scouting out a watering

Comments

[andromynous]

As far as weeks in this city went, this one hadn't actually been all that eventful -- for her, at least. Remus going home was something that she was worried about for entirely unselfish reasons, since Sirius wasn't exactly well-known for dealing with situations like the one he found himself in now in positive ways. She'd gotten off work late again, however, so she was in the mood for a pint and a pie. The British-style (emphasis on style) pub was the obvious stop for her, but once she stepped inside ... well, she bee-lined for the familiar (if tired-looking) face.

"Hullo, John."

[drpsychosomatic]

John jumped half a mile, certainly not expecting anyone to recognise him- and it was a fraction of a second too long before the smile slid up to hide the shock. Still, once it had, it was genuine enough- and John was genuinely grateful to have run into a familiar face.

"Oh! Andromeda. Hi. Sorry, I should have called you. Was going to do it the other day, and then Sherlock found some kind of fungus..."

He trailed off with an apologetic smile, more than aware of how ridiculous he sounded.

"Can I buy you a drink? I've only just started."

[andromynous]

Ah, so she'd startled him. She wasn't all that surprised, considering how engrossed he'd seemed to be in whatever it was he'd been doing ... but still. She smiled in return and slipped down onto the stool next to him.

"You certainly can. I'll order food for myself, though -- I'm a tad starved. Somehow managed to miss lunch at work again." Funny how that happened more and more frequently lately. Heh.

"No worries about that. I think we all got a little tied up in things after the debacle that was the, ah, Parade."

[drpsychosomatic]

"You could say that," he agreed easily, a touch of amused weariness to his tone. "Still. We've got a week or so until whichever costumed maniac's turn it is to make the holidays hell drums up something for Christmas. Did you want to get a table for food?"

[ofcompanyb]

How Blue got into this bar is something unknown - whatever way he managed, he's not telling. Instead he sits next to John, recognizing him from the chance meeting on the street. Surely, another Fable would understand his plight, right? He doesn't even really drink booze! Much.

Okay at all.

Sometimes.

Whatever.

Blue has, in his hand, a Roy Rogers and in his lap a trumpet case.

"Hello, Mr. Watson."

[drpsychosomatic]

John recognised Blue, of course, though it took him a moment to work out why his appearance set off alarms- something about not asking a question, if he remembered correctly. There was something he wasn't supposed to do around the guy.

"Blue, wasn't it?" he asked amicably. "Sorry, Sherlock's not around."

[ofcompanyb]

Blue shrugs. It's not really a big issue, because in Blue's mind, Watson is a Fable, too, and so he has some measure of trustworthiness. Of course, why they haven't come to Fabletown is a question too, because why wouldn't they? It's a safe place, even if they are planning on going to war.

Blue really hopes they're not on the Adversary's side, but he supposes if he's cautious, it can't hurt. "Well, I thought I would say hello anyway. Sometimes Sherlock can give me a little bit of a headache." It's the intense stare, really, like Blue is a puzzle.

[drpsychosomatic]

John laughs, taking a sip of his pint. Oh, does he sympathise.

"Yeah, he does that," he agrees, offering Blue a gently apologetic smile. Sometimes it feels like he spends half his life apologising for whatever it is Sherlock's done this time- but for whatever reason, he's never really minded. It's familiar, at least. Comfortable. "Think he likes it, too."

[enigmaestro]

Of course, he had been watching. Desire's interest in Doctor John Watson naturally drew Eddie's own, like rivers leading to oceans. Eddie Nygma was a curious creature by design, and his growing stake in Watson only couched more questions.

A bar, modeled after a pub. Of course. The atmosphere was open, public. Accessible. Edward took the empty stool nearby with a whiskey in hand and a smirk on his face.

"Doctor."

[drpsychosomatic]

John looked up warily. That tone, the voice unfamiliar, coupled with the fact that its owner apparently knew who he was? Trouble. He smiled, tightly.

"Sorry, have we met?"

[enigmaestro]

"Not in person, no." Eddie smirked, ordering a whiskey neat in the next breath. It was a revealing answer, as he had intended. "Busy time of year for you, is it?" A flash of a smile, a wink. Vague questions implying specifics, an ideal way to invite tension.

[drpsychosomatic]

Oh, that was more than enough to get John on edge, though he did his best to hide just how off-balance the suspicious questioning had thrown him. His half-smile never wavered, gaze utterly steady despite the alcohol.

"Most people seem to get busy around Christmas," he agreed carefully.

[sh_consulting]

It was nearly 2 am when Sherlock was disturbed from his experiment (the growth rate of maggots in a low oxygen environment) by a text message from John. Picking up his communicator, it read:

Shrlkk

biutdruknn. jfhow adoi i ggt hnms? fjanks.

Sherlock stared at it a whole minute, with a blank expression. Then, with a melodramatic sigh, he punched out the following text:

John.

Stay where you are. I'll come get you.

SH

It was, of course, not exactly difficult to figure out where John had gone. Most of the drinking establishments in the vicinity were highly Americanized or night clubs, neither or which Sherlock thought John was likely comfortable to get completely smashed at. That narrowed the field considerably, to one 'english style' pub around eight blocks away.

It took Sherlock no time at all to get there, and slip inside.

[drpsychosomatic]

Ugh. John had managed to slump into a corner with his last of far too many pints and was currently nursing it, his head hanging heavy between his shoulders, eyes shut. The screen of his phone was far too bright- he could hardly make out any of the letters on it at all, but he was fairly confident the vibration meant Sherlock had received his message. Which was important, probably.

The beer here really wasn't that bad, he reminded himself, throwing the last of it down his throat (and possibly his shirt? He couldn't tell if it had all made it to his mouth, come to think of it) and pawed at his phone, trying to work out where the button that made the text bigger was.

[sh_consulting]

It only took one brief scan of the room for his eyes to pick out John slumped in the corner. Sherlock strode over, looking impeccable as ever (thanks to his paycheck, he was now even able to properly attire himself), and came to a stop in front of the table.

"John." There was a mild look of disgust mixed with exasperation. There was no worry, in that look. Nope. None at all.

Alright maybe a microscopic amount.

"I see you found a watering hole."

[drpsychosomatic]

Sherlock had probably never seen John look so abjectly miserable. He smiled in Sherlock's direction blearily, indicating the chair opposite with an uncharacteristically expansive gesture.

"Sherlock," he slurred. "Sorry. Thought I'd-- give you space for that fungus thing. Maggot thing. Whatever it was in there."

[grooviestmutant]

Dr John Watson was recognisable enough for Charles by this point. He himself had been busy with so many other things, he hadn't had a chance to make his way into the bars more recently. He also, certainly, did not do as much drinking as he had before. It was a rare sight to see him here, and that was something he was sure rang true for the man he caught sitting at the bar proper. With a smile, Charles sidled his way up to John with surprising personal comfort.

"Fancy seeing you here," he introduced, smiling widely and nodding in the man's direction.

[drpsychosomatic]

John was well-oiled enough by the time that Charles spoke up that he didn't jump, simply turning to face him with a smile. Since the dream incident, the telepath had been firmly placed in the ally category- and right now John could do with all the friends he could gather around himself.

"Oh, hi, Charles," he greeted him brightly. "Can I get you a drink? Just about done with this one."

[grooviestmutant]

Charles himself was happy to see John in much higher spirits. He seemed almost surprised by the offer but he nodded, inviting himself to take a seat beside the other man and making himself comfortable. "Ah, only if you'd like to," he said. Once he was seated, he leaned into the bar on one elbow and seemed to be studying the man for a moment.

"You're doing much better, I see. I'm glad for it."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Always better when I don't have a friend in a coma," he agreed mildly. "Thank you for that, again. I'd thought he was under some kind of attack."