I don't know what this is. I'm sorry
The only reason that John hadn't bailed yet was the gorgeous plate of nachos in the middle of the table. He didn't know any of the people except for Mike Stamford, and honestly, he could care less about "social interaction."
But these nachos... They were coated in gooey cheese, with chunks of meat sprinkled throughout it. Banana peppers were nestled within the chips, and the chips themselves tasted like the reincarnation of Jesus himself.
There was one chip left, one delicious chip that had a little bit of everything. One glorious nacho. John reached. So did the quiet, attractive guy on the other end of the table. They glared at each other. John half expected some old Wild West music to start playing.
Sherlock hated people. They were annoying and so... Idiotic. The one thing that he could appreciate were these nachos.
And then that one blond guy had to go and make a move for the last one.
Sherlock tried not to reach for his gun.
They glared at each other. They glanced at the nacho. They glared at each other. They glanced at the nacho. Mike Stamford looked at both of them.
"Oh for gods sakes!" He yelled and stuffed the nacho in his mouth. Sherlock and John stared at him, horrified.
"Bu-but- the nacho!" John blubbered.
Sherlock was speechless.
Mike rolled his eyes. "You two are going to go back to one of your apartments, make nachos, enjoy them, and then realize how perfect you'd be for each other. There's a reason I asked you both to come tonight."
"Bu-but" John blubbered.
Sherlock was speechless.