His Last Vow (Sherlock Holmes X OC)

NINE- Miss Me...

"Oh my God. Ugh," Anita groaned, thudding her head against her folded arms. Sherlock and her were at her place, trying to drown Anita's sorrows in alcohol and crap takeout. Sherlock and her were sitting on the floor of her living room, the coffee table being their impromptu dinner table. Anita didn't want to actually get drunk, she just didn't want to think anymore. Sherlock chuckled beside her, glancing at her slumped form.

"Come on. It can't have gone that bad," Sherlock reasoned. Anita groaned again, thudding her head against her arms once more.

"Sherlock, I have never interviewed that horribly. Ever. Why the hell would they hire me after that?" Anita insisted before grimacing and shaking her head. Sherlock snorted at her, causing her to glare over at him.

"I'm sure people did worse than you," he commented, bringing a spoonful of Chinese food to his mouth. Anita shook her head, sending a desperate look at him.

"If I don't get this job, Sherlock, I don't know what I'm going to do," she replied. Sherlock stared at her for a moment before opening his mouth, but promptly shutting it again. He knew how much this mattered to her; she had to get this job, for her dad. Anita groaned again, slumping more than she had before.

"Anita, you've been working towards this job forever. They'd be idiots not to hire you," Sherlock told her, trying to comfort her as best he could. Anita looked up at him, gulping softly.

"Really?"

"Yes. How many hours did you spend practicing your responses? You have got to believe in yourself," Sherlock replied, giving her a small smile. Anita nodded, pushing her food around in it's takeout box.

"But what if-"

Anita's phone began to ring on the coffee table. Both of their heads instantly snapped over to it, staring at the contact. Scotland Yard. Anita's breath hitched as the phone sang out for a second time. Sherlock looked over at her, watching as she made no movements to pick it up.

"You've got to answer it."

"Right. Oh my God," Anita muttered as she reached over with shaky hands and picked up the phone. She shared a look with Sherlock before bringing the phone up to her ear. She didn't necessarily want Sherlock to hear that she didn't get her dream job.

"Hello?" Anita asked, gulping down the lump in her throat. Sherlock leaned forward slightly, trying to hear the other side of the conversation. He could faintly hear a man's voice, but couldn't pick out what he was saying. Sherlock's eye quickly locked onto Anita's face, watching her expression to try and guess how the conversation was going.

"Yes, this is her," Anita replied to whoever was on the phone. She nodded gently at what the person told her, humming occasionally into the phone. Sherlock continued to watch as Anita said her goodbyes before she set the phone down on the coffee table, staring at it.

"So?" Sherlock pushed, prepared to offer a movie night if she didn't get the job. As much as he hated movies, he knew she needed this. Anita looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I got it. I got the job," Anita whispered, her voice growing louder with every word. She jumped up to her feet, raising her arms in triumph. Sherlock chuckled, getting to his feet as well.

"Congratulations, Sergeant O'Malley," Sherlock said as Anita quickly pulled him to a hug, squealing. Sherlock smiled brightly, hugging her back. She felt the tears of joy slipping out as she squeezed his shoulder before pulling back.

"I can't believe I got the job," Anita muttered, chuckling to herself as she plopped back down on the floor. Sherlock shook his head at her gently. Of course she got the job; Anita was born to be a cop.