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Drinks for the Undead
Notes: Yes, I’ll be done soon and then I’ll start writing proper things again. Follows Dinner for the Undead and Dessert for the Undead.
Summary: Irene and Sherlock meets for drinks somewhere in Europe.
-x-
“Is this seat taken?” Irene wondered, placing a light hand on Sherlock’s shoulder as he sat by the bar with a glass of whiskey and a lit cigarette in the ashtray next to him.
“May I see your card?”
She showed him her card with a smile and sat down while Sherlock beckoned the bartender over and ordered her a Martini after getting a short nod of approval. Of course he knew what type of drink she preferred.
“Password?” she said after receiving her drink.
“Hamish,” Sherlock said without looking at her, instead he brought the whiskey glass to his lips.
“I feel like I’m in a spy movie,” she told him and took his cigarette without asking for permission, “I’ve missed smoking in bars.”
“I’ve missed smoking,” he said and took the cigarette back from her but offered her a new one from his package, “You have to ask the bartender for a lighter.”
“My pleasure,” she smirked and made the bartender bring her matches and refill Sherlock’s glass. She raised her glass and prompted him to do the same.
“To us this time?”
He nodded once and smiled, “Ms Adler.”
“Mr Holmes.”
“I did learn some Bulgarian,” Sherlock said when he had placed his glass back on the counter and put out his cigarette.
“That was a waste of time,” Irene pointed out and lit a match to help him light a new one. He leaned in and let her before blowing the smoke over his shoulder.
“I have a lot of time to waste,” he sighed, “Drives me insane.”
“I’ve heard about this game where you throw birds at pigs,” she smirked, picking up the olive and studying it with a focus it didn’t deserve.
“Completely mind numbing,” Sherlock shook his head and gave her the satisfaction of watching how she finally ate the olive before adding, “John played it a lot.”
“Maybe your mind needs some numbing?”
“Maybe yours needs some exercise?”
“Can’t argue with that,” she put out the cigarette and shook her head when he offered her another one, “The afterlife is incredibly boring.”
“So much for word-of-mouth?”
“How’s your business going?” she asked as a counter-question since she didn’t care for his mocking tone.
“I’ll be done with it soon,” Sherlock said, emptying his glass with a small sigh, “It will all be over soon.”
“Do you need any help?”
He shook his head and got to his feet, placing a couple of Euros next to his glass on the counter, “I want to meet in London next time.”
“I know this place….” she said with a smile waving off the bartender who was approaching to collect Sherlock’s money.
“I know a place too,” Sherlock said buttoning his suit jacket and putting away his wallet, but he intentionally avoided to look at her. She understood why, but wished she didn’t.
“We should change the password,” he said when he met her eyes again, forcing himself not to roll his eyes at his own ridiculous suggestion. She smirked and he did the same, this whole situation was ridiculous to be honest.
“Any ideas?”
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Irene pressed her lips together to not giggle at the sheer absurdity to hear that word come out of Sherlock’s mouth. If she wondered if Sherlock had said that just to make her smile, maybe even laugh like she had done the last time he had talked about passwords, she would have been right. She didn’t think about that though and Sherlock had to be satisfied with her almost obeying him.
“How about ‘Rhododendron ponticum’?”
“Oh?” Sherlock looked surprised, almost busted, but smiled, nonetheless, and nodded his consent to the new password. She was pleased, which annoyed him a bit, but he could live with that as long as they didn’t have John’s middle name as their password anymore.
“I’ll miss you when you resurrect,” she said and Sherlock put a lot of focus into putting on his coat properly.
“I’m not sure I’m going to.”
“Miss me or resurrect?” Irene wanted him to clarify, not really knowing which one she was hoping for. Sherlock answered by leaving two cigarettes for her next to her Martini glass before walking away.
-x-
Dance for the Undead
Summary: Irene and Sherlock meets for drinks somewhere in Europe.
-x-
“Is this seat taken?” Irene wondered, placing a light hand on Sherlock’s shoulder as he sat by the bar with a glass of whiskey and a lit cigarette in the ashtray next to him.
“May I see your card?”
She showed him her card with a smile and sat down while Sherlock beckoned the bartender over and ordered her a Martini after getting a short nod of approval. Of course he knew what type of drink she preferred.
“Password?” she said after receiving her drink.
“Hamish,” Sherlock said without looking at her, instead he brought the whiskey glass to his lips.
“I feel like I’m in a spy movie,” she told him and took his cigarette without asking for permission, “I’ve missed smoking in bars.”
“I’ve missed smoking,” he said and took the cigarette back from her but offered her a new one from his package, “You have to ask the bartender for a lighter.”
“My pleasure,” she smirked and made the bartender bring her matches and refill Sherlock’s glass. She raised her glass and prompted him to do the same.
“To us this time?”
He nodded once and smiled, “Ms Adler.”
“Mr Holmes.”
“I did learn some Bulgarian,” Sherlock said when he had placed his glass back on the counter and put out his cigarette.
“That was a waste of time,” Irene pointed out and lit a match to help him light a new one. He leaned in and let her before blowing the smoke over his shoulder.
“I have a lot of time to waste,” he sighed, “Drives me insane.”
“I’ve heard about this game where you throw birds at pigs,” she smirked, picking up the olive and studying it with a focus it didn’t deserve.
“Completely mind numbing,” Sherlock shook his head and gave her the satisfaction of watching how she finally ate the olive before adding, “John played it a lot.”
“Maybe your mind needs some numbing?”
“Maybe yours needs some exercise?”
“Can’t argue with that,” she put out the cigarette and shook her head when he offered her another one, “The afterlife is incredibly boring.”
“So much for word-of-mouth?”
“How’s your business going?” she asked as a counter-question since she didn’t care for his mocking tone.
“I’ll be done with it soon,” Sherlock said, emptying his glass with a small sigh, “It will all be over soon.”
“Do you need any help?”
He shook his head and got to his feet, placing a couple of Euros next to his glass on the counter, “I want to meet in London next time.”
“I know this place….” she said with a smile waving off the bartender who was approaching to collect Sherlock’s money.
“I know a place too,” Sherlock said buttoning his suit jacket and putting away his wallet, but he intentionally avoided to look at her. She understood why, but wished she didn’t.
“We should change the password,” he said when he met her eyes again, forcing himself not to roll his eyes at his own ridiculous suggestion. She smirked and he did the same, this whole situation was ridiculous to be honest.
“Any ideas?”
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Irene pressed her lips together to not giggle at the sheer absurdity to hear that word come out of Sherlock’s mouth. If she wondered if Sherlock had said that just to make her smile, maybe even laugh like she had done the last time he had talked about passwords, she would have been right. She didn’t think about that though and Sherlock had to be satisfied with her almost obeying him.
“How about ‘Rhododendron ponticum’?”
“Oh?” Sherlock looked surprised, almost busted, but smiled, nonetheless, and nodded his consent to the new password. She was pleased, which annoyed him a bit, but he could live with that as long as they didn’t have John’s middle name as their password anymore.
“I’ll miss you when you resurrect,” she said and Sherlock put a lot of focus into putting on his coat properly.
“I’m not sure I’m going to.”
“Miss me or resurrect?” Irene wanted him to clarify, not really knowing which one she was hoping for. Sherlock answered by leaving two cigarettes for her next to her Martini glass before walking away.
-x-
Dance for the Undead
It is good
Re: It is good
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Can they just hang out in various establishments and chat/snark/ever-so-slightly-flirt for eternity please? (except that would be very mean for John I suppose...)
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Just a tiny nitpick though: Bulgaria does not (yet) operate on Euros.
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And I know, they're not in Bulgaria, that's why it was a waste he learnt Bulgarian ;)
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Hmm... Weren't they supposed to meet in Bulgaria in the last story? It's not really clear from this one that they're not there.
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Maybe I have a bit of a fail on the non-spoken-dialogue-department after all, will look it over for the next one (though I don’t think it will be in London :( )
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"Honey produced with pollen from the flowers of this plant can be quite poisonous, causing severe hypotension and bradycardia in humans if consumed in sufficient quantities, due to toxic diterpenes (Grayanotoxins)."
Very funny. Oh when he "comes back" you could call any meetings séances. :D
Wasn't Doyle big on that? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Conan_Doyle#Spiritualism. Ah yes!
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Who am I kidding? No one can keep him from John for ever....