John adjusted his headset until the ear piece sat comfortably in his ear. The computer screen was full of blocky structures and animals that might or might not be cows. Sherlock's avitar was stuck in a ditch nearby and John could swear looking sulky.
"Really? We talked about this. We practiced this part. Surely you can't be serious?"
"Don't call him Sherly," Lestrade said from the other side of London.
Molly's quiet giggle came through the earpiece to John.
"Is everyone ready? Everyone except Sherlock?"
John guided Sherlock out of the ditch and back to the farm where Molly and Greg were waiting.
"We could have used the chat function instead of headsets," Lestrade said.
"This is more fun," John countered.
"Where should we go?" Molly asked.
"There's an Enderdragon that needs defeating. I've got supplies – armor, weapons, potions. We should be good to go," John said.
"Why can't we just play in creative mode?" Sherlock said.
"Shut up Sherly. This is John's game night. What now?" Lestrade asked.
John held his hand over his mouth so he wasn't laughing into his mic. The situation was so ridiculous. Lestrade kept asking how he'd managed to convince Sherlock to join them at game night. He hadn't convinced him at all. He had blackmailed him.
"I haven't gone to the Nether yet. We need Blaze Powder and Enderpearls," John said. "Just follow me and stay close – it's almost night. Sherlock where are you now? No no no – you can't stop every few feet to examine things. Do that on your own time. Right, all together."
John worked on creating the portal to the Nether while his friends stood guard round him. Everything should have gone smoothly. They all knew their roles and they'd practiced in creative mode. But nothing was ever certain when it came to a consulting detective.
"What the fuck Sherlock!" Lestrade exclaimed. His avatar was slowly dying as each tick went by. Sherlock had thrown poison potion at everyone.
"It's for an experiment!" Sherlock said, as if that made it okay.
"Of course it is," said John as his character respawned, all of his items missing.
"Oh I'm picking up everything you dropped. Be right there," said Molly.
"Should we continue John?" asked Lestrade.
"No we can't. Seems I'm missing my diamond pickax."
"I think it fell in the ravine," Molly said.
"Great. Just great. I think I'm calling it a day."
"Good night John!" Molly called. They each lay their characters down in a bed, except for Sherlock, who'd managed to fall into hot lava. John sighed and removed his earpiece. He looked towards Sherlock's closed bedroom door and sighed.
"Maybe blackmailing him into playing games was a bad idea," John muttered under his breath.
"Blackmailing me was a terrible idea John!" Sherlock shouted behind his closed door. That man was bloody psychic sometimes.