Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!
BART’S LAB. Sherlock is standing at the far end of the lab using a pipette to squeeze a few drops of liquid onto a Petri dish. Mike knocks on the door and brings John in with him. Sherlock glances across at them briefly before looking at his work again. John limps into the room, looking around at all the equipment.
JOHN: Well, bit different from my day.
MIKE (chuckling): You’ve no idea!
SHERLOCK (sitting down): Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine.
MIKE: And what’s wrong with the land line?
SHERLOCK: I prefer to text.
MIKE: Sorry. It’s in my coat.
(John fishes in his back pocket and takes out his own phone.)
JOHN: Er, here. Use mine.
SHERLOCK: Oh. Thank you.
(Glancing briefly at Mike, he stands up and walks towards John. Mike introduces him.)
MIKE: It’s an old friend of mine, John Watson.
(Sherlock reaches John and takes his phone from him. Turning partially away from him, he flips open the keypad and starts to type on it.)
SHERLOCK: Afghanistan or Iraq?
(John frowns. Nearby, Mike smiles knowingly. John looks at Sherlock as he continues to type.)
JOHN: Sorry?
SHERLOCK: Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?
(He briefly raises his eyes to John’s before looking back to the phone. John hesitates, then looks across to Mike, confused. Mike just smiles smugly.)
JOHN: Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know ...?
(Sherlock looks up as Molly comes into the room holding a mug of coffee.)
SHERLOCK: Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you.
(He shuts down John’s phone and hands it back as Molly brings the mug over to him. He looks closely at her as he takes the mug. Her mouth is paler again.)
SHERLOCK: What happened to the lipstick?
MOLLY (smiling awkwardly at him): It wasn’t working for me.
SHERLOCK: Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth’s too small now.
(He turns and walks back to his station, taking a sip from the mug and grimacing at the taste.)
MOLLY: ... Okay.
(She turns and heads back towards the door.)
SHERLOCK: How do you feel about the violin?
(John looks round at Molly but she’s on her way out the door. He glances at Mike who is still smiling smugly, and finally realizes that Sherlock is talking to him.)
JOHN: I’m sorry, what?
SHERLOCK (typing on a laptop keyboard as he talks): I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for days on end. (He looks round at John.) Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.
(He throws a hideously false smile at John, who looks at him blankly for a moment then looks across to Mike.)
JOHN: Oh, you ... you told him about me?
MIKE: Not a word.
JOHN (turning to Sherlock again): Then who said anything about flatmates?
SHERLOCK (picking up his greatcoat and putting it on): I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn’t that difficult a leap.
JOHN: How did you know about Afghanistan?
(Sherlock ignores the question, wraps his scarf around his neck, then picks up his mobile and checks it.)
SHERLOCK: Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we ought to be able to afford it.
(He walks towards John.)
SHERLOCK: We’ll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o’clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.
(Putting his phone into the inside pocket of his coat, he walks past John and heads for the door.)
JOHN (turning to look at him): Is that it?
(Sherlock turns back from the door and strolls closer to John again.)
SHERLOCK: Is that what?
JOHN: We’ve only just met and we’re gonna go and look at a flat?
SHERLOCK: Problem?
(John smiles in disbelief, looking across to Mike for help, but his friend just continues to smile as he looks at Sherlock. John turns back to the younger man.)
JOHN: We don’t know a thing about each other; I don’t know where we’re meeting; I don’t even know your name.
(Sherlock looks closely at him for a moment before speaking.)
SHERLOCK: I know you’re an Army doctor and you’ve been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you’ve got a brother who’s worried about you but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him – possibly because he’s an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp’s psychosomatic – quite correctly, I’m afraid.
(John looks down at his leg and cane and shuffles his feet awkwardly.)
SHERLOCK (smugly): That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?
(He turns and walks to the door again, opening it and going through, but then leans back into the room again.)
SHERLOCK: The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street.
Welcome to Sherlock Mafia. The game isn't going to start until the 16th, so there's plenty of time.
Omg omg omg. It's ready. I am soo excited! 
