Drinking Game {The Consulting Detective, JohnHWatson}

Sherlock was bored. Again. And now there was nothing to be done about it. Sherlock already had texted Mycroft, who had no interesting mystery to give him, nor did Lestrade. The boredom was killing him.

He sat in his armchair. Well... sat... his legs hung over the back part of the armchair and his head almost touched the floor. Something must happen, or he'll commit a murder himself. Anderson would be his victim, no doubts on that.

Just that moment John came in.

"Bored." Sherlock sighed. "I'm boooooreeeeeeed. John, think of something or I'll shoot the ceiling." Sherlock stared longingly up to the ceiling. It cried to be crumbled.

John walked over the threshold, arms laden with Tesco bags. He rolled his eyes at the sight before him. Typical.
"No, nah, you know what, Sherlock? I'm not in the mood right now. I've had a tough day. I just want to go out and have a drink without any bloody interruptions."
He placed the bags on the kitchen table and started to unload them. "Besides, you always shoot down my suggestions anyway. Remember last night? You ignored my plea for you to go out and have a nice refreshing walk. Instead, you shot a hole in my door... Thanks for that, by the way."

Sherlock had closed his eyes while John was talking, pressing his fingertips slightly to his temples. God, let him be creative today. he thought. Then, John said something brilliant.

He jumped up, his robe swooshing around him. "John. You're a genius!" He grabbed John by the shoulders while passing him to his bedroom. There, he pulled a shirt and a pair of trousers out of his closet and put them on. He was going to go with John to a pub, whether he liked it or not.

John stared after his friend, momentarily stunned at Sherlock's outburst.
"Was that a compliment I just heard?" he asked dryly, putting the last of the groceries away.

He soon cottoned on to what Sherlock was planning, though. He sighed, exasperated, then followed Sherlock into his room. The man was frantically pulling clothes on.
"Wait. Hold on, you're coming to the pub? Are you being serious?"

"Yes, I am very serious. I am always serious!" Sherlock jumped in his pants, pulling it up and securing it with a belt. He went on a quest for his shoes and found them under the bottom drawer. He grabbed them and seated himself on the edge of his bed to put them on.

"I even know to which pub you go." He paused and bended over to tie them. "Your standard pub is the Orange Lion, an 8 minute-walk from here."

John crossed his arms and stood in the doorway of Sherlock's room. He quirked an eyebrow, feeling mildly amused at the way things were panning out.
"Ah, I see. So you stalk me too. It was to be expected, I suppose."
He smirked and walked further into the room. "So you plan on drinking? Can't say I've ever even imagined you drunk. This really will be a sight to behold. You do realise alcohol slows down the brain's thought processes and mechanisms? You don't eat for the reason of digestion having a similar effect..."

Sherlock ignored his first comment. "Well noticed John. It is not my drug of choice." He got up, taking a jacket from a hanger and put it on. He grabbed his coat and scarf and rushed out of his bedroom, knowing John would be right behind. He grabbed his wallet on his way down the stairs and looked back at John.

"But I'll make an exception for once." He gave him an excited smile. "How much fun could you possibly have in a crowded pub? How many stories to deduce, imagine, John!"

The two men left the flat and walked out into the cool breeze.
John wasn't used to seeing Sherlock in such a good mood, but then again the prospect of doing something other than sitting around must have brightened Sherlock's evening considerably.
"If you promise not to embarrass me or anybody else with your deductions, I'm sure it'll be fine," John said, a smile playing at the sides of his mouth. He wondered to himself whether a drinking game might be appropriate when they got there. It'd certainly give the night an edge and maybe even loosen up Sherlock's usually uptight personality. It was a win-win situation.

Sherlock excitedly breathed the cool evening air in. Ah, this night was going to be exciting. He ignored John's remark again.

After a stroll of 8 minutes, they reached the Orange Lion. Sherlock stepped in and looked around. He spotted a couple that was having an affair, woman married, man was too young for her age. An old woman staring into nothing, a loud club of fat builders drinking cheap beer and the bartender who was not the owner, young and gay.

"Ah, I'm already enjoying myself." He smiled brightly, wanting to deduce the hell out of those around him. But he wasn't accustomed to the convention in pubs, so he aimed at John: "But how do we go about these things?"

John could see his flatmate's mind whirring as his cool blue eyes surveyed the area.
To be honest, John was thankful that Sherlock wasn't going straight up to people and letting them know of his deductions. No doubt that would start a fight and get them both barred for life.
John leaned against the bar. The young gay bartender was smiling brightly, his teeth whitened to a ridiculous degree.
"Ah, Dr Watson. You've brought a friend. Is he your, er..."
"No. We're not..." John cleared his throat. "I know what you're thinking. But we're not."
"He's gorgeous." The bartender didn't seem to realise he was staring and for some reason this made John grit his teeth in annoyance.
He turned round to face Sherlock. "How about a drinking game? We could play '60 minutes'. A shot for every minute that passes in the hour... I used to play it in the Army days. I lasted the longest out of my buddies... every time." John suppressed a smirk. "So, you on?"

Sherlock approached the bar and took a seat on a bar stool, his coat hung over the 'back'. He folded his arms over the bar. He smiled even brighter when John began talking about a drinking game. Oh, yes. This was going to be so much fun.

He saw the bartender ogling him and turned his head to face him briefly, still with the bright smile on his face. The bartender winked at him and in return rose his eyebrows, amused by the attention. So he was liked by gay men. Could be handy for a case in the future.

Sherlock turned to John again, with a frown on his brow. "So one has to drink 60 shots in an hour, am I correct? A bit dull, isn't it? And you'll have an advantage, which isn't fair."

Sherlock pouted. He had an idea.

"Let's make our own game, with our own rules." Sherlock smirked mischievously. He had some ideas in store which could become fun.

John furrowed his brow at the wink from the bartender then turned to Sherlock to see his reaction. He was smiling. This wasn't good at all. John huffed a little and sat on the nearest bar stool, before removing his jacket and laying it on his lap. Apparently Sherlock finds most things dull, so the rules of his own made-up game are going to be anything but predictable. John pursed his lips and turned to face his friend.
"Uh huh. Alright smart guy, you decide. I will abide by your rules..." He pointed a finger. "- within reason."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, bringing his hand up to his mouth. "I would like to see you deduce." He pointed at John with a creeping smile on his face. "I don't expect you to know everything very thoroughly, but I think you can do it. You have seen me doing it many times. And you thought it was 'fantastic'" He mocked the last word, but it loosed effect because he smiled a little. He was actually very fond of John's praises and he didn't want him to stop giving them.

"If you deduce correctly, I drink. If you don't, you drink." He paused.

"You can choose something for me when it's my turn." Sherlock pierced John with his eyes. Call it risky? Sherlock was fond of a little risk. Very fond.

"You want me to deduce? Why? So you can humiliate me for my horrendous attempts at being as observant as you?"

John sighed outwardly leaning his head in his hands for a moment. He also heard the way Sherlock lightly mocked his compliments, but John let that slide.

"Yeah, well, I'm bound to lose. I swear you're doing this on purpose." John looked at Sherlock directly now and saw the detective looking at him with a certain intensity. He couldn't help but grin, chuckling effortlessly as ever. "Alright. Fine. You're on..."

John motioned the over-friendly bartender over for the drinks.

"Wait, I don't think you understand, John. You can pick anything you want me to do. It doesn't have to be deducing. It could be anything." Sherlock waved with his hand in the air. "It's your choice." He turned the palms of his hands up in a giving gesture.

He was curious about what John would pick him to do.


((You could choose anything, really. You can make him do a lot, dare him every time it's John's turn, for example. Or asking him questions he has to answer... I'm sure your John has questions about Sherlock ^^ Anything you want him to do or anything you want to know, it's your choice! Note: My Sherlock can refuse by drinking, but he likes a little risk ;]))

John waited for a moment, thinking to himself, concocting ideas that could ultimately drag a lot of information out of Sherlock. Unanswered questions, curiosities...

"What would you do if I asked you a really personal question, Sherlock? Would you actually answer it?"
John thought that while he was sober, he might as well start with the deeper questions. Later the questions and dares would be forgotten in a haze of drunkenness, no doubt.
"See, I've asked Mrs Hudson if she knew this about you. And Lestrade. But neither of them did. - What I mean is... y'know..." John pushed Sherlock's drink towards him and awkwardly cleared his throat "... have you had any kind of relationship? As in, girlfriend, boyfriend? Ever? Or wanted one, at least? And don't just say 'no' if you haven't. Explain what goes on... in your mind."

[[XD]]

"Depends on the question. If I don't want to answer, I'll have to drink. If I do, you'll have to drink." Sherlock had his isn't-blatantly-obvious-face on, but looked at John with great curiosity. What didn't he actually know about him, after all that time living together very closely?

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards when John began about 'relationships'. He rolled his eyes. But answered anyway.

"Well, as it appears to be a very important question to you, I will answer it to be over with it forever." He took a deep sigh and looked John straight in the eye.

"To your first question: no. I have never had a girlfriend, nor boyfriend. Never. Neither of them were interesting enough to keep a long-term relationship with. I am a sociopath, which inclines that I'm socially defective. None of my acquaintances interested me, not even to be very friendly with. I have shared flats with different men, but they would run away from me soon enough." Did he sound sad? No. Those men were awfully boring. They were good material to experiment on, though.

"To your second question: I haven't had the desire to be dependent on someone. I cannot imagine how being sexual and mentally involved with someone for a very, very long time can be entertaining to someone. At a length of time, I guess you won't be surprised by your partner anymore." His eyes whirled through the room, watching the couples fondling each other. How could they be entertained together.

He shoved the drink to John. "Did I answer it well enough? If not, use your next turn."

((I didn't say he had/hadn't ever had sex or if he ever felt affection for someone, because you didn't ask ^^))

"Hey hey, don't roll your eyes, I was merely curious. You can understand why I'd wonder, can't you? I mean, the most beautiful woman could walk past now and you wouldn't so much as bat an eyelid."
John didn't pretend to understand the inner workings of Sherlock's incredible mind but as he listened to Sherlock explaining himself and why he simply wasn't interested, John found himself becoming mildly disappointed. There was something machine-like about a person who couldn't find another human being in the least bit entertaining. John ignored the drinking game for a minute, his dark blue eyes averted from both the drink and from Sherlock. "You've shared flats with men but they'd eventually 'run away'?"
John couldn't imagine it. Sure, Sherlock could be a pain in the arse sometimes but he was too brilliant to leave alone.
With a sigh, he returned to the game at hand. "Right, I know you can't answer anymore, so I'll shut up about that. Now, who or what would you like me to deduce?"

"Yes, they would run away. Couldn't stand the violin, wanting me to have social intercourse, disturbing my experiments." Sherlock's eyes diverted to a piece of wall next to John's left ear. He made a turtle face and looked at the ground for a moment.

He smirked and looked at John again. With a devious smile he said: "The bartender.".

John hesitantly looked over at the bartender who was now in deep conversation with another good-looking man. He kept glancing over though, seemingly to make sure Sherlock was still in the vicinity.

John smirked. "Well, he's gay as a fruit bat - he whitens his teeth. Most men don't bother. Unless they're American or famous or gay. He's only one of those. He's, er, single. I mean he must be. Surely he wouldn't flirt like that with people unless he was single. Um..." John tilted his head, trying to deduce even more, but the bartender caught him. "Ooh. Having a cheeky look are you, Doctor? Does your friend want a look?"
John raised his eyebrows and quickly turned away, before adding to Sherlock, "And he likes you, that's a given." With a huff he pushed the drink away. "Was I right?"

Sherlock looked at John with an amused expression and a little smile on his lips. His eyes shone at John's deduction. They were right. John had improved.

"Yes, you were right, very well. You could have mentioned his shoes too, a particular Italian brand, or the fact that he has a stack of coasters in his apron with his phone number written on it." He leaned over to John, heads close. "Let's see if he gives me one of his coasters with the next drink." He leaned back and continued: "I think you did very well, you are improving. Next one will be more difficult. This one was just a starter." He smirked before turning to the bartender. "Another drink will do, thanks." He grabbed his drink and took a sip.

"Ok, your turn."

((ROFLOL HERE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HILARIOUS!))

John was grateful that for once Sherlock was being positive about his abilities of deduction. He'd never be as quick or observant as Sherlock, but at least he was learning.
"Ah, of course... the shoes. No, seriously. How the hell am I supposed to know an Italian brand from another brand? Honestly, half the time I don't even think of these things, never mind look out for them."
John sighed and leaned his head in his hand. What to ask Sherlock next? He sniggered when he realised he could try and make Sherlock uncomfortable.
"Alright, okay. Question... Snog, marry, avoid. You've heard of that, right? It's out of me, Lestrade and Molly. And, yes, I know you're not 'into' emotions, but do your best. Or... of course, you could have a drink..."
John secretly reveled in it whenever Sherlock was a bit emotionally confused.


[[LOL! No seriously, what's so hilarious!? ]]

Sherlock thanked the bartender for the next drink one of them would have to drink. He picked up the coaster and glared underneath. Yep. Phone number written on it. He glanced back at the bartender, who gave him a second wink. And again, Sherlock raised his eyebrows, amused with what was going on.

Sherlock frowned. "No, I have not heard of that. How am I supposed to know what that is? But if I understand this right: I have to answer who I'd like to snog, marry and avoid, picking out of you, Lestrade and Molly. Am I correct?" His frown faded into a mocking expression. "Seriously, why would you like to know?"

He rested the sides of his index fingers on his mouth in a thinkful manner. "Can I replace Molly with Irene Adler? Molly is so dull.'

((The bartender, I love him. He's hilarious x) ))

"Irene Adler? Yep, yeah... that's, er, fine." John cleared his throat and then noticed the bartender's number written under the coaster. He felt unusual... perhaps jealous, but he shrugged it off... even after the bartender winked for the umpteenth time.

"Why would I like to know? Well, it would make me laugh... isn't that reason enough?" John let the corner of his mouth turn upwards. "Y'know you could always avoid the question and drink until you drop. Your choice."
John was simply loving this. His curiosity was allowed to turn at all angles.


[[Oh oh oh. I love him too. ^^ x]]

Sherlock shifted on his stool, back against the bar and his elbows hooked on the edge. He looked laterally at John. He moistened his lips with the tip with his tongue before he began to speak.

"Alright then. It's not that difficult. Snog the Woman, marry you and avoid Lestrade."

He shoved the drink to John's side with a playful smile. "Drink and deduce that couple over there." Pointing at the couple sitting very closely at the fireplace.