John walked into the lounge, pulling his coat on. He rolled his eyes when he saw Sherlock lying on the sofa, hands steepled under his chin. Just maybe, just this once, he thought, and went over to his friend, shaking him by the shoulder until he came out of his trance.
"Sherlock, I'm going to Harry's for the weekend."
Sherlock and looked at him blankly. "Why did you tell me?"
"Because I'm sick of you not noticing when I'm gone."
"Bye then." Sherlock rolled over and faced away from John.
John stayed where he was, silently fuming. He wanted to get Sherlock's attention, but how? Then he was struck by an idea. "Tell you what, Sherlock, I'll make a deal with you. A bet."
Sherlock rolled back over, interested. "What kind of a bet?"
John thought for a moment. "I'll bet you that Harry and Clara get back together."
Sherlock snorted. "That's impossible. Your sister hates Clara, she made that clear last time she visited. What are the stakes?"
"If I win, you have to do whatever I want, for 48 hours."
"Okay then. What happens if I win?"
"If you win, I'll do whatever you want for 48 hours. Fair?"
Sherlock considered this for a moment, then stuck his hand out. "Fair."
John took his hand and shook. "It's a bet."