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
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"Hullo, John."
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Yeah, not her best moment.
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"She couldn't have expected you to keep that one to yourself," he said eventually. "No-one could."
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Definitely time for her to put a sizable dent in her own drink.
"But, ah. We were talking about you. Are things with Sherlock at least bearable? I hope he gives you some sort of compensation for putting up with him."
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Andromeda grinned. "She's the one who helped me out when I first got here, actually."
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"I'll probably run into her, then," he said after a while. "Sherlock has this unique talent of pissing off the police."
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She smoothed a hand through her hair. "And I'm 45, to save you some math."
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Yet another thing to worry about when she arrived home again. Something told her that wouldn't be a concern at all, though.
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"I take it you go for younger men, then..?"
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"It seems this place doesn't give me much selection." And then ... well, she wasn't about to mention Dick or Wesley, really. "Not that I've been on many dates. Exactly one, actually."
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"I've also been here a good deal longer than you. But -- well, when I first arrived I wasn't in any state to be seeing anyone."
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"I'm glad to hear things have got easier for you, then," he said. "Seems like this place will take a bit of getting used to."
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Yes, they're both glad that there aren't any pregnancy jokes going on.
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