bakerstreet | Blame it on the Goose Got you feeling loose... Blame it on the alcohol

Blame it on the Goose Got you feeling loose... Blame it on the alcohol

The Walk Into A Bar Meme!

The bar's a comfortable place, where everyone knows you just have to walk up, give the bartender a smile, and order up a drink. Everyone goes to a bar sometime, whether to pick up a companion for the night, to pick up a friend, or pick up a drink. You never know the story behind the guy sitting next to you, or the bartender. But that's what bars are for, aren't they? To learn about the guy on the stool next to you, drinking his gin and tonic.

So what do you do in a Walk Into A Bar meme?

1. Comment here with your character and their canon in the subject line.
2. Hit RNG for a number between 1-15.
3. Tag someone else using that number as your character's reason for coming to the bar.
4. Profit!

So, what's your poison?

1. Sex on the Beach - You're here at the bar for one reason and one reason only, to find some company for the night. It might help, to buy them a drink first. But then they might throw that back in your face...

2. Tonic and Gin - Life's been one disaster after another lately, and the only thing that makes it easier is the sweet numbing taste of alcohol...

3. Midori Sour - Your friends dragged you out here and they've suddenly abandoned you for some rock star in the VIP lounge. Are you bitter? Maybe. Or maybe you'll just use the opportunity to flirt with the cute bartender...

4. Shirley Temple - You got a call five minutes ago asking you to come to the bar to pick up your too-intoxicated friend/brother/sister. But now that you're here, they don't seem to be anywhere to be found...

5. Poolside Pleasure - There's nothing like being on vacation in a tropical paradise, is there? And what better way to soak in that tropical vibe than to swim up to the Tiki Bar for a relaxing fruity drink with a paper umbrella?

6. Moonshine - Maybe you're underaged. Or maybe the bar isn't exactly what you'd call legal. Whatever the reason, you're not supposed to be here, but you are, and while you're here, might as well get something to wet your whistle, right? Just be careful not to get caught...

7. Hair of the Dog - Last night was... do you even remember last night? Probably not, given the wicked hangover pounding in your head right now. Well, nothing cure a hangover like having a drink in the morning to take the edge off, right?

8. Champagne - Something great has happened! Did you get a promotion? Kill your nemesis? Whatever it is, you feel great and it's time everyone celebrated with you. A round of champagne on the house!

9. Shaken, not Stirred - To everyone else, this is a regular bar, but not to you. You know you're here to meet a clandestine contact, an enemy informer or a secret spy. Better play it cool and keep your eyes open...

10. Sunken Pirate Ship - You've been out on the high seas for months, and finally made it into port with your pockets full of gold. What're you going to do first? Drink that gold away or buy some company for the evening? You can do both at the bar...

11. Punch in the Rain - You're the bouncer of this bar and you think the guy sitting next to you has probably had too much to drink. Maybe it's time to cut them off. Hopefully they'll go easy, huh?

12. Bartender - Everyone who walks through the door has a story to tell, and you're the guy they love to tell those stories to. Are you the type to listen, or the type to slip a little something extra into their drink in hopes that they shut up about their sob story?

13. Absinthe - Whatever it is you just drank didn't seem to agree with you. And at the corner of your eye you keep seeing this bright green faerie... Is everything happening around you reality, or have you slipped into some kind of hallucination?

14. 357 Magnum - Did you just insult my mother? Whether or not they did, you sure think so, and you know what's the best way to settle things in a bar? With a bar brawl, of course!

15. Happy Hour - Anything goes! Got another scenario you want to play out, this is the place for it!

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[John was taking a small and decidedly final sip of his beer when he heard the question. First came the realization that it sounded odd: foreign, American. Next, there was the nagging feeling that despite the unfamiliar accent, it was also somehow reminiscent of a voice he'd heard somewhere before. Both of these came several painfully long seconds before he even dared entertain the idea that she was addressing him of all people, and a quick glance to his other side revealed that the American couldn't have been talking to anyone but him.

There was hardly the time to even consider whether it was a good idea to be flirting in his current state or not. As though on auto-pilot, he turned to face the woman, ready to say something. Finally getting a look at her let him know exactly why that voice sounded so hauntingly familiar: it was a ghost from his past, come to haunt him.

And that simply resulted in him nearly choking on his drink.]

[A ghost of a smile played on Irene's lips at the expression on the good doctor's face, while the rest of her expression feigned shocked concern. She thumped him on the back twice at the near-choking, the swing of a hand very used to doing exactly that, and gestured to the bartender for a glass of water, the American accent firmly in place.]

You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

[The strikes did help and the glass of water was accepted, but he wouldn't drink from it just yet, wouldn't take his eyes off of her, as though she might disappear as quickly and seamlessly as she had arrived. The time for moping had ended: John found himself thrown back on the front lines of war.]

You.

[It sounded as accusatory as a lone syllable possibly could. John tightened his grip on the glass of water. It was upon hearing the sound of the bartender stepping away to tend to another customer that he continued.]

You're no ghost. [There was no question about it. It had to be her.] How?

[The single, accusatory word put to rest any ideas of protesting mistaken identities. Irene shrugged and took her hand off his back, leaning on her elbows as she gestured for a glass of wine.

She spoke quietly, without the American accent.] Are you surprised? I'd done it once before.

[Something halfway between a groan and a sigh was John's initial response to her dropping the accent. The voice was more familiar than ever, just another reminder of... well, everything. And a small part of it might have been relief that it really was Irene, that he wasn't going insane.]

A bit... Mycroft informed me he'd made sure the second time around.

[Though in retrospect, it wasn't really very surprising to find that Sherlock's brother had either lied or messed something up again.]

[She smiles with sinful self-satisfaction at John's words.]

Conclusions are only as good as your investigator. I found someone better than Mycroft Holmes.

[There was only one person who fit the description, the very same one that Mycroft had said it would take to outsmart him.]

Sherlock. [A visible twitch of pain flashed across his face as he spoke the name.] He helped you?

[She catches the look of visible pain that crossed John's face and the tiniest of frowns furrows her brow. Because that wasn't exactly what she expected. She'd expected that if anyone knew where Sherlock was hiding while playing dead, it would be John Watson.]

Yes. [It's a much better way of putting it than being rescued.] And why I'm here, actually.

[John had expected the very same thing -- that if Sherlock would ever need to do such a thing, he would at least be made aware of it. Instead, he was the one watching his friend plummet from the rooftop as witness of the fact.

The soldier within refused to show just how weak it had made him feel.]

If you're looking to return the favor, I'm afraid you're a bit late.

[The frown deepens and she gives John a considering look.]

You think he's really dead.

And you don't?

[A part of him still clings to the small hope that his friend might remain alive, even if all the evidence points to the contrary. He thus doesn't answer Irene's question, not really, wondering if perhaps she knows something he doesn't.]

[She shrugs, using the gesture to smooth her expression back to arch amusement.] I'd be a fool to think the man who helped fake my demise couldn't do it for himself.

I was curious why.

[John's really not sure what to think of that possibility. It gives him new hope that Sherlock might be alive, which is obviously good, very good, but it would in turn indicate that he wanted to sever ties by making sure his friend thought he was dead. Why would he do something like that? It just doesn't add up in the doctor's mind. He's not ready to believe that Sherlock's "note" was fake as well.

Lip curling and brow furrowing, he summarizes everything up in one word. It's the best answer to Irene's inquiry that he's got.]

Moriarty.

Ah.

[She wondered briefly if John realized just how much he was saying with that one name. A part of her doubted it. It was her specialty, her nature, to discern and learn what people liked, what they desired, and use it to her own advantage. And Jim Moriarty's 'advice' on the Iceman and the Virgin said as much about Moriarty's own desires as it did how to play the Holmes brothers.]

And Moriarty's whereabouts?

[He'd been kept in the dark for a lot of it, but what he did know was that it all traced back to the consulting criminal and his plot to destroy Sherlock's name. From that point on, everything had become a sort of blur. Moriarty's whereabouts had seldom crossed his mind when all he could think of was the death of his friend.

The tension remains on his face. John is angry with himself for not knowing more.]

I don't know.

[She drums her fingers lightly against the wooden bartop, her expression thoughtful.]

Very interesting, that. If Jim Moriarty thinks he's dead, that does make things rather more interesting.

[He just shakes his head and takes a sip of his water. This isn't at all what he expected from tonight, and now he really can't use that old argument of 'nothing happens to me' again.]

Him, sure, but why trick everyone else? [Or in other words, why me?]

[If he had actually said 'why me?' Irene might have slapped him and made him beg for the privilege. He sounded enough like a lost puppy without it.

Instead, she gives him a Look that implies he is missing something big.]

Too many variables to control. It's much easier to deal with loose ends when everyone thinks you're dead.

So making me watch him jump was his idea of variable control?

[That actually sounds exactly like something Sherlock might do. If John had heard about the suicide from any other source, he wouldn't have believed it. Things really are beginning to add up, giving more weight to Irene's theory. He dejectedly answers his own question.]

Of course it was.

[She gestures to the bartender and gets a glass of wine. The house red. Serviceable enough.]

Smile a little, John. You are far too morose for someone who has just realized his boyfriend may not actually be dead.

[Deep down, he is glad, but certain other emotions are overpowering it at the moment. He's quickly moved past the point of morose and making his way toward angry. Irene's remark serves to push him into the territory of livid.]

Sorry, I'll try to be happy that he he might've tricked me into thinking I watched him die.

[Oh and he may as well add, for what feels like the hundredth time (and a bit louder than necessary),] And he's not my boyfriend!

[The bartender (and a few other nearby patrons) glance up at John's outburst, and Irene's lips twitch in a barely hidden smile.]

Who said anything about being happy? I was suggest hope, and not this whipped puppy business.

[That barely hidden smile sharpens.] Unless you're looking for a whipping.

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Blame it on the Goose Got you feeling loose... Blame it on the alcohol

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just guessing because the news video never mentioned a body on the roof orz

Sounds likely! :)

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