How about a bit of light relief from the devastation of episode 3, I know I need it… This rewritten scene is from the beginning of 'The Hound'; where we find Sherlock pacing up and down the flat looking for cigarettes… PS. Sorry for the teasing at the end ;)

Chapter 3

The Bargain

"You promised."

"Sherlock, it's nine in the morning and I'm reading the paper. Go and find something else to do."

"You promised and I'm warning you now. I will go and find it elsewhere."

"No you won't."

"You're supposed to be distracting me when I feel like this John. It's your job." He waits for my answer and I stand my ground, ignoring the last comment. I see him from the corner of my eye as he straightens himself to his full height believing that this will somehow make it more appeasing to me. "Please", he says with the most sentiment he can muster (It isn't very much). I pull the newspaper closer and he growls. "Fine, give me my cigarettes then."

"No. You have to learn to entertain yourself Sherlock."

We are interrupted by the doorbell and he glares at me with his best 'this is not over' face.

I had become concerned in the recent months that our 'developing relationship' had begun to largely rely on bribery; namely me pacifying his erratic moods with his suggestions for alternative activities. It of course was secretly no problem for me to oblige him, but lately, as with most things that Sherlock became enamoured with, things had begun to get out of hand and in some instances, a little aggressive. I could handle him, of course I could, but I had to try and reel him in a little. So, as you would do with any 'child' behaving the same way, it was time to begin 'retraining'.

Our guest; poor Henry gets the brunt of his frustration and I'm left to fill in the gaps of humanity as always. I am at first glad for the distraction that it has supplied my friend, but just as I think I'm getting somewhere, he initiates his new weapon and watches carefully for my reaction.

"So you're not going then?"- I say more to myself, seeing right through his plan.

"No I can't leave London at the minute, far too busy." He turns to Henry. "But don't worry I'm putting my best man on to it. I can always rely on John to send me all the relevant data as he never understands it himself."

"What are you talking about you're busy. You don't have a case. A minute ago you were complaining…"

"Bluebell, John, the case of the glow in the dark rabbit." He looks at me with his I told you this wasn't over face.

Henry, who is stuck in the middle of a silent argument of which he knows nothing about, looks between us in a state of utter confusion. "Sorry, you're not coming then?"

It's my move. "Ok Fine." I get the patches from a draw near my chair and throw them at him, hoping that will appease him enough for our current company. He throws them promptly over his shoulder.

"Don't need those anymore. You go ahead Henry, we'll follow on later. Won't we John?"

"Sorry, so you are coming?" says Henry.

He looks at me with the most smug expression I have seen to date. "Am I coming John?"

I leave as long a pause as I can manage. "Fine. Fine. You win Sherlock."

He smiles in contentment then notices Henry's confused expression. "A monstrous hound? Wouldn't miss it for the world." He turns back to me and takes the newspaper out of my hand. "Now here's the deal John. We get the train to Devon and I'll drive when we get there. I know you hate driving…." He starts to try and remove my jumper and I pat his hands away angrily.

"Sherlock what are you doing?"

"….On condition that you take me back to bed before we leave for Paddington."

"Um…. I think I should be going now then."- says Henry, grabbing his coat and backing out the door. I think I actually hear him run down the stairs.

"What? Oh yes, whatever. See you in Devon." Sherlock shouts after him.

"Did you have to say…. that?" I ask him, trying to keep my voice calm as he takes advantage of my distraction and pulls the jumper the rest of the way over my head.

"Say what?"

"Never mind", I say wearily.

"Now, get into your pyjamas, retrieve the 'equipment' and meet me in my bedroom."

"Must we really bother with the pyjamas?" I ask.

"It's better that way. We agreed." He looks a little hurt then makes a gesture to indicate that he's waiting for me to move.

"In your own time John….. But quickly, or I'll start without you."

I point a finger at him. "That's against our rules Sherlock remember? We agreed."

A minute later I pass him in the kitchen as I go back through to his room and give him a disgruntled glare. What had happened to all my good intensions? I had sold out for an easier life yet again. Pitiful. I would not be telling the therapist about this, that's for sure. I climb on the bed with the 'equipment'; the source of most of our power struggle-based arguments from the past two months.

"Right then", he says as he appears at the door, back in his dressing gown and holding two mugs of tea.

I take my mug from him and open the board. "I bloody hate playing Cluedo with you Sherlock."