A birthday fic for Mirith Griffin

"If you won't sit down and play board games," John growled after hours of Sherlock complaining about boredom, "then I'll teach you a much better game."

Sherlock's eyes widened.

"Oh, you can Boggle all you like," John said sternly. "You think you're the Mastermind, that you've got the Monopoly on this relationship, but you knew it was a Risk winding me up and now you'll face the Consequences. Get naked – now."

Sherlock shuddered delightedly, stripping rapidly while making puppy-dog eyes at his lover.

"Don't pretend you're Sorry!" John said. "Get on the table, and Connect 4 corners of it immediately."

Sherlock obligingly lay down, spread-eagling himself to the corners of the table.

"That's right," John told him, removing his own clothing. "I like my men like I like my board games – spread out on the kitchen table on Saturday afternoon. And if you play the game properly, you'll get a good score."

"No dice," Sherlock said fake-mournfully.

"Funny," John purred approvingly. "But you can't Scrabble out of this. If you behave, I'll satisfy your Hungry Hip(po)s and make sure this is anything but a Trivial Pursuit."

Sherlock whimpered, writhing sinuously. John smiled suggestively and murmured into his ear.

"Oh, you're a Twister all right. And let me assure you: this Operation will be a game where you definitely won't be board."

The 221B Author's Note:

Finally I found a use for the lines which I almost leaked in my Author's Note for Fifty over a year ago. Admittedly they were never mine in the first place. I heard them in the British TV show 8 Out Of 10 Cats and the line 'I like my (wo)men like I like my board games...' came from Jimmy Carr if I recall correctly, while the hilariously rueful rejoinder of 'No dice' was an ad-lib by Jon Richardson.

In other news, Initially, he wanted to be a pilot won 'Best Crossover' fic in "The Holmsies" on Tumblr, which is nice, and thanks to anyone who voted. I have no idea if this award is a good thing or not. I have to admit that the word 'Holmsies' makes me squirm. Where's the bloody 'e'?!

I've had writer's block for far too long and was genuinely beginning to despair. I'm still struggling with an angsty fic which has been lurking around in my brain for so many months, and the whole damned story is planned out in my head but just will not transfer itself to the keyboard. But one day I might angst your hearts out when you least expect it ...

In the meantime I'm just grateful that my plotbunny woke up from her semi-retirement in time for Mirith's birthday!