The Baker street regulars

Minesweeper with Sherlock

"Back from your walk, dear?" said Mrs. Hudson, who (judging by the rattling sound) was probably cleaning something.

"Uh, yes," I replied, placing my coat on its customary hook, "Mrs. Hudson—"

"Don't worry, I made tea for three dear."

"Thank you. You're the best," I said, preparing to ascend the stairs to my room.

"Just a minute dear," said Mrs. Hudson, emerging from her flat.

"Yes?"

"Just remember, I'm not the housekeeper."

"Of course," I said, checking the smile that threatened to show on my face.

"And remind Sherlock too while you're at it."

"Sur—"

"Speaking of Sherlock, he's been quiet for quite a while... What's he up to?"

"He's cleaning," I said, with a touch of pride in my voice.

"Really?" said Mrs. Hudson.

"This time I put my foot down and told him I wouldn't do it. He was doing one of his experiments earlier. There was a particularly vile smell this time... Ammonium di-something."

"Don't remind me," said Mrs. Hudson, wrinkling her nose at the memory, "Anyway, all's well that ends well."

"Yup."

I proceeded up the stairs, only to have all my hopes dashed. Sherlock was on his laptop, and there was a huge pile of papers all around him. If anything, the mess had only become larger. On the bright side, he had at least poured the chemicals out and the air in the living room was breathable.

"Sherlock!" I said, and he snapped back to reality.

"John?"

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm clearing up some loose ends on the last case. Did you notice—"

"I distinctly remember you promising to clear up the living room and the kitchen as well."

"Well, I am doing it on the side."

"Oh, really?"

"I'm clearing up some space in my laptop, John. It's part of the living room."

"Running out of excuses are we?" I said, dumping a cushion unceremoniously on the floor and flopping down on the armchair, "I liked the last one better."

"Well, I do try to deliver every time. But it just isn't possible," said Sherlock.

"God..."

"What do we have here..." said Shelock, looking at his laptop, "Pinball? Spider solitaire?"

"I'm surprised you haven't deleted those yet."

"Me too. I'll get down to it. Hold on... Mine sweeper? Why would anyone go around sweeping mines? This is absurd!"

"They mean... umm, explosives. Not gold-mines or the like."

"Still that doesn't excuse the flamboyant name..."

"Who cares..."

"John?"

"Yes?"

"I just clicked on it."

"Okay."

"A box just opened up. Where are the instructions? God, there's also a timer..."

"Just click on a square, Sherlock."

A short pause followed. "Okay, now what?" said Sherlock looking up impatiently.

"Don't tell me you've never played mine sweeper before," I said with a groan, "But after the solar system, this hardly surprises me."

"Well, now that you know the big secret, tell me what to do," said Sherlock, rolling his eyes.

"This is Cluedo all over again, isn't it?" I said with a shudder.

I quickly explained the basics to Sherlock, and he began trying to play. "Anything is better than cleaning, right?" I remarked.

"What was that John?" he said, innocently.

"Never mind. You know, this is much better than Cluedo... At least now the entire flat doesn't have to pitch in."

"Hmm."

"You're not even listening are you?"

"John," said Sherlock tersely.

"What now?"

"The whole thing just exploded for no reason!"

"You clicked on a mine."

"Maybe," said Sherlock.

A short while later, I heard footsteps on the staircase. I pulled myself out of my stupor to find Sherlock still playing the game. I didn't expect him to get hooked.

"Hullo there."

Lestrade entered the room after knocking twice. "I got something—"

"Nope."

"Hear me out—"

"No."

"But—"

"I'm—busy."

Lestrade looked at me for help, and I raised my arms in a gesture of mock defeat. "Don't look at me... I can't make him do anything productive today too, mind you."

"I'm busy, John," repeated Sherlock.

"Doing what?" demanded Lestrade.

"Minesweeper."

"You can't be serious! You're just running out of excuses."

"Funny... John said something along the same lines earlier."

"Besides, that game is probably rigged..."

"Oh no, it isn't. It's just simple logic. I'm on a fifteen win streak."

"Yeah, right... If you win the next game, you get to stay. Otherwise, you're coming with me."

"Done."

Sherlock grinned and rubbed his palms together. "Let's get to it."

Lestrade peered over the back of the armchair as Sherlock started a new game. Suddenly, Lestrade whooped triumphantly and Sherlock's face turned ashen. "What happened?" I said.

"He clicked on a mine," crowed Lestrade triumphantly.

"It was the first box I clicked," said Sherlock defensively, "I didn't have anything to go on."

"A deal's a deal," I said sagely.

"You heard him!" exclaimed Lestrade.

"I will say this only once... You were right," said Sherlock.

"What!"

"This game really is pointless!"