In The Game of Love

eleven

 Sherlock and Y/N were now back at 221B. Y/N was now reading after she had prepped her dress for John and Mary's wedding tomorrow. She knew that Sherlock was hold up in his room, trying to figure out Moriarty's next move. He wouldn't allow her to help but he was concerned she was going to do something stupid, on her own. Y/N was worried about Sherlock doing the same thing.

"Mrs. Hudson?" Y/N could hear John call as he entered the flat. "Oh, Mrs. Hudson?"

Y/N stood up and headed out of her room. "John," she called with a smile. A pattering of four paws attracted Y/N's attention to the floor. "Gladstone!" She crouched down and scratched the dogs belly. "I've missed you."

John smiled as he climbed up the stairs after Gladstone. "Well, I've missed you, too," he joked.

"John," Y/N smiled again as she stood up. She brought him into a hug. "Nervous for tomorrow?"

"I'm more nervous for tonight," he chuckled. "Is he in his room?"

"Last time I checked."

John turned and knocked on Sherlock's bedroom door. "Holmes, you in there?" There was no answer so John went to open the door.

"Oh, John, I must warn you—"

But John had already opened the door to reveal the large plants Sherlock had been growing in his room.

"Your hedge needs trimming," John commented as he entered, with Y/N following.

"Where am I?" Sherlock's whisper echoed around the room.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes before finding her place on one of the chairs near the window. John carefully eyed the animals that appeared among the plants in Sherlock's room before noticing a fake Sherlock looking out the window.

"I don't care where you are as long as you're ready," John said.

"I'm waiting," Sherlock continued.

"I'm not gonna play this game." Y/N pursed her lips to hide the giggle as she found Sherlock's hiding place and John continued to not be amused. John headed for the chair next to Y/N. "Remember, I have to catch the last—" Sherlock shot a dart into John's shoulder. John looked over to see it lodged in him before scanning the room and still not noticing where Sherlock was. "—train."

"Oh-oh, that's you dead, I'm afraid."

"You win." John sat down and grabbed the newspaper from the table between his and Y/N's chairs. "I lose." He opened the newspaper up. "Game over." Then Sherlock shot another dart through the paper.

"Still don't see me?"

John flipped the newspaper down partially and finally noticed Sherlock in painted, head to toe underwear. The right side of Sherlock's outfit was painted like the bookshelf against the wall while the left side was the color of the column. He even had a masked over his face. Sherlock had been hiding nicely in the corner.

Sherlock laughed as he moved to stand in front of John. "Quelle surprise," he taunted before pulling off the mask.

"I'm not going out with you dressed like that," John stated then he sent back to reading the paper.

"Would you prefer I joined you in the fashion faux pas of wearing fine military dress with that heinous handmade scarf? Clearly one of your fiancee's early efforts."

"Oh, how I've missed you, Holmes."

"Have you? Why?" Sherlock got in John's face for a brief moment. "I've barely noticed your absence."

"Liar," Y/N scoffed quietly, earning a glare from Sherlock.

"Then again, I'm knee-deep in research. Extracting fluids from the adrenal glands of sheep... and designing my own urban camouflage." He motioned to himself before moving back to get into John's face. "All the while verging on a decisive breakthrough in the single most important case of my career, perhaps of all time."