I know you can’t drink most alcohol, and I’m leery of too much of the stuff myself - but I can’t help but like this quote:
I ran screaming out of adolescence, and when I hit the border somebody gave me the legal right to drink. It’s all just finely tuned memory loss since then. – RecklessPrudence
(#00296)
“And why can’t such a fine lady as yourself go out dancing with a fine gentleman such as me?”
Gah. Barrow was laying it on thick, tonight. “One, yer no’ that fine,” said Shayde. “Two, I still havnae forgiven ye fer the disintegration’ dress incident. Three: ye smell like a stale pub.”
“You have to understand, fine lady,” he still plastered on the Blarney. “I ran screaming out of adolescence, and when I hit the border somebody gave me the legal right to drink…” His view down memory lane suddenly became laced with Lovecraftian horrors. “It’s all been finely-tuned memory loss since then.”
“That explains way too much, ye ken.”
“…yeah…” he agreed absently.
“Tell ye what… I’ll send ye somethin'… an’ then we go somewhere sober.”
“M'lady, I vow to wear anything you send with grace and aplomb.”
Shayde loved the look on his face when she smiled like that. It was all she could do not to cackle like an evil scientist. “Good,” she purred.
Of course, it would all lead to another stint in Sherlock’s cells. But then… what didn’t?
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