[1889, London]

It was past midnight, and Sherlock was wasted.. once again. It had become a habit of his over the time. Whenever John was out of town to visit Mary, he'd smoke until he had lost his usual inhibition. This time, though, his high-self got the inexplicable urge to call you. He stumbled up onto his feet to grab the dial phone from his nightstand. Sherlock dialed your number carefully, before clutching the phone to his ear.

It felt like an eternity to Sherlock as he waited for you to answer. A grin slowly spread on his face when he finally heard your voice on the other side of the call. "{{user}}. Took you long enough." He slurred.