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“It’s meant to be a family bonding experience,” said Mummy, and Sherlock stared.
“Family?” he repeated. “Bonding?”
“Yes, two words to which you surely know the definition, Sherlock, if you can comb through that feeble brain of yours.”
“Mummy, did you smuggle in cake for Mycroft?” asked Sherlock. “You know how he gets when he hasn’t eaten for a few…minutes.”
Mycroft gave him his passive impression of a glower because Mycroft was too lazy to actively glower, just as Mycroft was too lazy to actively do anything.
Mummy said, “Hush, both of you.”
“How is it meant to be ‘family’ if he is here?” Sherlock demanded, and swept his arm out toward Lestrade.
“We needed five players,” Mummy replied.
“We couldn’t have bribed someone off the street?” demanded Sherlock.
“Cheers for the vote of confidence, Sherlock,” said Lestrade.
“Oh, please, Lestrade, we’d be better with a goldfish on our team. Wouldn’t we, Mycroft? A goldfish?”
Mycroft passively glowered harder.
Lestrade said, “It wasn’t exactly my idea of a fun Saturday afternoon, either, you know. Appearing on ‘Family Feud’ with the Holmeses.”
“I can only imagine what pointless stupidity you would rather occupy your time with,” remarked Sherlock. “‘Family Feud’ should be considered a step up to you, I would think.”
“You’re not even my family,” Lestrade pointed out.
“As has already been noted, but do continue wasting oxygen,” said Sherlock.
“God knows what my wife is going to say about this,” muttered Lestrade.
“Probably nothing at all because she’s too busy shagging the biology teacher,” muttered Sherlock in return.
“What was that?” asked Lestrade sharply.
Mycroft said mildly, “You do know how the game is played, don’t you, Sherlock? I wouldn’t want you to humiliate yourself on national television.”
Sherlock actively glowered at Mycroft, which was a talent of his. “I know how it’s played, Mycroft. I hope the first category is ‘Things That Are Tedious’ so that I can answer ‘Being on this show.’”
“Alright, everyone!” said the relentlessly cheerful person who kept chirping directions at them. “Time to quiet down and get the show started! In ten, nine, eight…”
The inane studio audience inanely counted down to “one,” and then everyone was supposed to applaud, which Sherlock refused to do. Sherlock drummed his fingers on the platform in front of him and hoped it was obvious to everyone watching at home how incredibly bored he was.
And then some mysterious announcer somewhere shouted, “It’s ‘Family Feud’! With your host, John Watson!”
And the host came out, in a cuddly jumper, a bit on the short side, blonde-ish, brown-ish hair, a bit of a limp. The most interesting person in the studio, by far. Sherlock stood up a little straighter.
And when Sherlock was called up to go and guess the first category and got close enough to John Watson to notice even more about him—former military by his stance, limp at least partly psychosomatic, dark blue eyes—he amended his opinion:
John Watson was the most interesting person in the entire universe.
The first category was “What do you notice first about a person?”
Sherlock’s reflexes were good, so he hit the buzzer first.
“Sherlock?” said John Watson, and Sherlock filed away in his mind palace the objective observation that he said his name beautifully.
“Everything,” said Sherlock.
“Everything?” confirmed John, after a moment.
“Yes. Obviously. To notice anything less than everything about a person would be irresponsible and stupid.”
“Okay,” said John, smiling at him. “Right. But what do you notice first?”
“Everything,” Sherlock reiterated.
“He said ‘everything,’” said the idiot girl opposite Sherlock on the opposing family. “So there you go.”
“Okay,” said John. “Did the survey show ‘everything’?”
There was a buzz.
Sherlock frowned. “You clearly surveyed a bunch of idiots.”
The idiot girl, because she was also an idiot, guessed “eyes,” which naturally was the number one response, since the idiot girl obviously had a direct link to the idiots surveyed.
The idiot opposing family guessed every single response correctly. Sherlock spent his time cataloguing everything he could about John Watson.
Mycroft took the next category, which was “Name a common complaint about your job.”
Mycroft responded boredly with, “The constant accusations that your actions will start a war.”
“Okay,” said John after a moment, looking at Mycroft so dubiously that Sherlock wanted to put him in his pocket and keep him forever.
Mycroft’s guess wasn’t up on the board. “They surveyed idiots,” he hissed on his way back to where they were all standing.
Mummy went next. Her category was “What is a common flirting technique?”
The opposing family beat her to the buzzer but guessed “rubbing at your crotch” which apparently was not up on the survey.
Mummy said, “Winking,” which was, so then John came over to spend more time on their side of the stage, asking them questions.
Sherlock didn’t often think Mummy did clever things, but this one wasn’t so bad.
Daddy guessed, “Buying someone a drink,” which seemed preposterous to Sherlock but also was up on the survey.
“Okay, Sherlock, your turn,” said John. “What’s a common flirting technique?”
“Asking someone along to a crime scene,” said Sherlock. “Obviously.”
John smiled at him, looking a little puzzled and quizzical but it was still a smile. “Okay, well, I don’t think that’s going to be on the survey, so—”
“Who have you ever asked along to a crime scene, Sherlock?” asked Lestrade, sounding incredulous.
“I would ask someone who wasn’t an idiot,” Sherlock retorted. “I only ever meet idiots. Usually,” he amended, so John wouldn’t be offended. John was an idiot, of course, but probably less of an idiot than everyone else.
Mycroft said, “Ah, I see now. A common flirting technique is implying that the person opposite you might not be entirely an idiot.”
John said, “Yes, well, that might be encouraged, just generally, but I don’t know if I’d call that—”
“A common flirting technique,” said Lestrade, “is wearing fuzzy jumpers.”
John looked down at his fuzzy jumper. “Well, I…Er, okay, let’s just maybe move on and see if the other team can steal.”
John moved away to the other side of the stage again.
“Idiots,” Sherlock hissed at Mycroft and Lestrade. “You were supposed to keep him over here.”
“Why don’t you just ask him to a crime scene, Sherlock?” asked Mycroft.
“That’s not what—Oh, never mind, you can’t possibly understand,” said Sherlock, and crossed his arms. “Why don’t you just ask Lestrade to a crime scene?”
“Wait, what?” said Lestrade.
Mummy said, “Shh! It’s time for the next category! Greg, that’s you.”
Lestrade dazedly moved off to the coveted spot of Next to John, and received his category: “What’s some surprising news?”
Lestrade said, “Your wife is cheating on you and your shadowy government contact might have a crush on you.”
John said, “I would certainly find that surprising, yes.” And it turned out that “cheating spouse” was on the survey, so that meant John got to come back and be in front of them again.
Mummy said something about getting a promotion, which was also on the survey, and Daddy said something about having a baby, which was also on the survey.
And then it was Sherlock’s turn.
Sherlock opened his mouth. His plan was to say surprising news is any news that anyone actually likes you but John said, before he could say anything, “Yes, by the way. To the crime scene thing.”
“Surprising news,” remarked Mycroft, “is when you get a date on a game show.”
“Your crush saying yes to your date request” was on the survey, so they won that round.