Jessica | Sherlock
"Hey, it's not like you're not getting anything out of it either," Jessica countered, gesturing at her body. "You're getting all of this in a dress which may never happen again as long as you live here. You should be grateful I want to stay a little longer to admire you in that suit. It gives you a small window to soak it all in." Because while Jessica certainly wouldn't stop betting with Sherlock, she would be a bit more picky about the kinds of bets she did engage in. There certainly wouldn't be anymore dresses in her future if she could help it.
Normally, Jessica would take the lead, but right now, in heels, she relinquished that honor to Sherlock. Like the intelligent man he was, he avoided the champagne and went straight for the bar, inquiring if she wanted a whiskey. "Obviously. Fucking champagne isn't going to get me through this." The brunette steadied herself against the counter top and lifted a hand to wave over the bartender.
When the man walked over, Jessica, in classic, Jessica Jones fashion, didn't even bother with the niceties. "Give me a whiskey." Her gaze shifted to Sherlock beside her. "You want the same?"