A Consulting Detective, Ex Army Doctor, and Child Mercenary Walk Into A Room

Chapter 2: The Great Game

I had gotten used to my new home. Sherlock's room was now a mess, the floor covered in books and the desk was stuffed with notebooks, pencils, and art supplies. There was an easel near the window with a blank canvas on it.

Near the afternoon, Sherlock grew restless and something was bound to happen.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The smiley face on the wall now had bullet holes for eyes and a mouth. Naturally, I was sitting on the couch next to the wall being shot. Reading of course. Sherlock blew the smoke from the gunpoint of his revolver. The door flew open and John came bursting in from downstairs.

"What the hell are you doing!" John yells. "You could've hit Lune!"

"Bored," explains Sherlock.

"What?"

"Bored -"

Bang!

"Bored -"

Bang!

"Bored," he continues. "I don't know what has gotten into the criminal classes. It's a good job that I'm not one of them." I had to nod in agreement. "You would've made quite the criminal leaving the cops cold on your trail. Getting away with murder and such." John looked annoyed as hell. "So you take it out on the wall?" Sherlock looked very much offended. "The wall had it coming."

John sighs but walks toward the kitchen. "What about the Russian case?" "Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder," I answered. Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Not worth my time." "Shame," John says, "Anything in? I'm starving." He opens the fridge and finds a severed head waiting for him. John immediately steps away from the fridge gawping at the sight. "A head. A severed head." Oh no. John looks like he is going to blow up. "Just tea for me, thanks." "There's a head in the fridge!" I look up from my book. "Yes, John. I think we all now know there is ahead in the fridge." "A bloody head!"

"Had to put it somewhere, John. You don't mind, do you? Got it from Bart's morgue. I was going to show Lune the measuring of the coagulation of saliva after death. I see you've written up the taxi driver case." Sherlock was clicking away at his laptop.

"Uh... yeah." John slams the fridge shut and scrounges around the kitchen. "Lune, do you know if there is any food lying around?" Sherlock reads the title of the case. "'A Study In Pink'. Nice." "Well, you know. Pink lady, pink phone. There was a lot of pink in it. Did you like it?" I've only known about the case because of John's blog but somehow I just thought some things went down differently. Though it was such an interesting case.

"Er... no." "Why not. I thought you'd be... flattered." Sherlock looks up from the laptop disgusted. "Flattered? 'Sherlock sees right through everyone and everything in seconds. What's incredible, though is how spectacularly ignorant is about some things.'" John stutters. "Hang on, I didn't mean -" "What, you mean 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way? Look, it doesn't matter to me who's the Prime Minister. Or who's sleeping with who -" "Or that the Earth goes around the Sun?" I had to snort at that one. It was quite ridiculous. "Oh, that again. It's not important." "Not important! It's primary school stuff! How can you not know that?"

"If I ever did, I've deleted it." "Deleted it?" I ask. Sherlock proceeds by jabbing a bony finger to his temple. "This is my hard drive. It only makes sense to put stuff in there that is really useful. Really useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish. And then it's impossible to get at the stuff that matters. You follow?" "But it's the Solar System -!" "What the hell does that matter? So we go around the sun! If we went around the moon or ... round and round the garden like a teddy bear it wouldn't make a difference. All that matters is the work. Without it, my brain rots. Put that in your blog. Or, better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world."

"Or you could get a bigger hard drive," I said. Sherlock glared at me. "Not right now little missy. Don't you get smart with me." At first, John glares at him but then heads for the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. John points out the flat. "Out! I need some air." He climbs down the stairs almost colliding with Mrs. Hudson. "Oh, sorry, love." "Sorry -" Mrs. Hudson looks after John's retreating back and then over to Sherlock. "You two had a little ... domestic?" She hands me a cup of tea. Sherlock gets up from his seat and watches moodily as John leaves the house.

"Look at that, Lune. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Isn't it hateful." I smiled and rolled my eyes. "I'm sure something will turn up, Sherlock." "A nice murder!" exclaims Mrs. Hudson brightly. "That'll cheer you up!" "Can't come too soon," Sherlock sighs. Suddenly, Mrs. Hudson notices the bullet-pocked plaster. "Oi! What have you done to my bloody wall!" I sip my tea waiting for the wild explanation to arrive. Smiling, Sherlock turns to her and -

Boom!

The flat from the opposite street explodes in a huge fireball. The explosion was so great that the windows in our flat shattered! "Get down Lune!" Sherlock throws himself onto Mrs. Hudson and they dive to the floor! Instinct courses through me and I throw a blanket making sure none of the shattered glass hits me.