Sherlock's eyes flickered open as the early morning sun washed over him. He was sitting at the head of his bed naked as the day he was born except for a rather strategically placed throw pillow, his hands bound to the two posts on either side of him. They were rather nice handcuffs, top of the line and state of the art, only being introduced at Scotland Yard within the past month. By his calculations, he could be free within two minutes.

He decided, however, to let this scenario play out; John, Lestrade, and Mycroft had obviously gone through a lot to get him into this position, it wouldn't be particularly sporting of him to ruin it just yet. Besides, he had spotted the keys on the bureau, someone was obviously supposed to let him out soon. The question remained, though, why had the three of them drugged him on the night of his stag party and secured him to his own bed like this in the first place?

He had been against the idea of a stag party from the start, had said as much to John before he had even asked and Mycroft had insisted that the very idea was fruitless. It had taken a while, but John was indomitable as ever and managed to convince the two Holmes brothers that they could have a fun enough time, even with Detective Inspector Lestrade. And a fun enough time they had begun to have. John proved himself to be as good a Best Man as Sherlock had believed he would be, first taking the party to a black market art auction. Doubtless, he had found it through Mycroft's contacts, but the clientele present at the auction had been interesting enough to occupy both Sherlock and his brother as they all took advantage of the open bar.

They could have stayed for hours longer had Sherlock not drunkenly tried to remove an obvious wig from a thief doing a terrible job trying not to be noticed as a thief. The security at the auction had not been gentle with the group, but what is a stag party without a split lip to show for it? The four, much more intoxicated than they had been before the night began, stumbled (or, the three stumbled as Myrcroft strode. His brother never stumbled, no matter how many fingers of scotch he had) on to Sherlock and John's favorite pub, The Bull and Nobody.

Sherlock rather liked their pub, it hosted some of London's seediest patrons and the barkeep poured a heavy pint. Sherlock especially enjoyed watching Lestrade try not to recognize some of the men sitting at the bar and not be recognized in return. It was at the pub that Sherlock spotted John and Greg slip something into his drink, obviously rohypnol after-the-fact. They hadn't been exactly secretive about it but he drank it with vigor anyways. It certainly wasn't going to be anything particularly fun, coming from the two of them, but he wasn't going to turn it down.

Then he had blacked out and woken up here, back in his flat with a pair of Lestrade's new cuffs around his wrists and their keys fifteen feet away. The group's next move would be an interesting one, he could only think of a few possibilities. Certainly, this wasn't an attempt to embarrass him in front of Mrs. Hudson, she had seen him in far more compromising situations than this. What could it be then?

The door to the flat clicked and the voice floated up the stairs as if on a cloud, "Hello? Sherlock? John sent me a text, said you might need me. Had a bit too much fun last night, did you?"

Sherlock's grin came instantly, wide enough to bear his teeth, "Oh John, you devil you," Sherlock mused as the footsteps came closer.

"I figured we could go out for brunch," said the voice, nearing his bedroom. "Some eggs and toast'll do you good."

Molly Hooper opened the door and let out a soft squeak at the sight of Sherlock, restrained as he was. Their wedding might not be for another week, but Sherlock could hardly wait.

"Molly, I need you to remain calm, and trust me, I'm a professional, but beneath this pillow lies the key to my release."

Molly's grin was almost as animalistic as Sherlock's as she strode toward the bed.

So, I hope y'all liked this! I remembered that scene from the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movie and felt the urge to write a BBC Sherlock version of it. It was a lot of fun thinking up exactly how a Sherlock stag party would go, I just hope I did it justice. A lot of folks followed my last Sherlolly story, which was only meant to be a one shot, so I figure I'll use THIS as the start of a series of one shots for the ship. If you have any requests or prompts, feel free to leave a comment with it and I'll give it a look!