Sherlock's childish need to not only be right (or mostly right) and to get the last word in would make him lose in the end. Of course Jim knows that Mycroft won't come himself. Of course he was hoping for this whole thing to play out because he had allowed Sherlock to keep his phone.

Jim was only messy when it suited him.

"Rightly so. We should begin." He glanced at his watch before he opened up the deck of cards and began to shuffle them. "It's very easy, this game. All you need to do is tell me everything I put in your tea. You've guessed the cocaine, good! And no need to mutter about with milk and sugar. Or tea leaves. Boooooring!"

They had exactly four minutes before Sherlock would succumb to the sedative, hidden so clever under the tiny bit of upper. In So fun, this game! He'd be feeling it soon though. His vision ought to be fuzzing out any moment.

"If you guess them all right, I'll let you and your lapdog go."

"Boss, timer's started," Moran chimed over the loudspeaker, making him laugh and laugh.

"Oh and you'll have to finish guessing and diffuse a bomb in the next three minutes and forty some seconds or, kaboom!"