I was either going to go on a murderous rampage or kill myself before the day was over.

I sat across from the principal as he explained the situation with me. How since I came smack dab in the middle of the year, ispecial/i arrangements had to be made. I had to share a dorm and a locker and practically everything else that came with it. Ad quite frankly, I was a bit agitated by it.

"Fortunately, Mr. Watson, we have a room available for you. Your room mate should be in the forensics lab, if you would like to go meet him?" the principal raised his eyebrows.

I gave a shrug and a nod, did it matter? I was going to meet him anyway. "Sure."

And in a flash I'm being led down the halls into another building that held the science department. It wasn't that far from the main building, but it was sure the biggest. Easy enough to get lost in.

"It's the last room on the fourth floor. You're welcomed to take the elevator," he said, nodded to my obvious limp.

I just shrugged again and walked over to the elevator, my crane clanking. I clicked the buttons and leaned against the wall. I sighed as I waited to ascend to the fourth floor. Not that I hated this school, just the cause for my immediate transfer was unfair. The elevator stopped on my floor and I wobbled out, searching for the room. Finally I reached the end of the hallway, with big, black, blocky letters reading "FORENSICS LAB." I pushed the door open to find another boy and a girl.

"Hello?" I call out.

The girl instantly turned her head and stares at me. The boy on the other hand had his eyes in a microscope. The girl smiled and waved. "Hello, I'm Molly."

"John, John Watson," I informed them. "I was told my roommate would be in here?" I eyed the boy.

"Sherlock! You finally get a roommate!" Molly grinned.

"Lovely," he said in a plain, monotone tone. He picked up his head from the microscope and looked at me. "Hrm, private school? More specifically Catholic, telling by your stance. Played sports. Football, the American kind. You sustained an injury from it, but not while playing it. You hate that you transferred here and you have below average intellect," he said before returning to his microscope.

I was about to pop him in the mouth before he added more. "But, you have one thing most people don't."

"Oh?" I asked, obviously annoyed.

"Yes," he looked up a final time, grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. "Common sense," he smirked. "221B, Baker Building, see you tonight?" he said as he ventured out.

And that was the first time I met Sherlock Holmes.

hr/hr

It was the end of the day and I just had bought all my books and was given my uniforms. I walked into my housing building, Baker Building, and wobbled around for the elevator. I pressed the button for the second floor and found 221b. I put my key in the lock and walked into my new dorm.

The dorm was an organized clutter. Books littered every shelf. There were various knickknacks everywhere. And was that – a skull! – oh wait it was fake. My boxes were already pushed to an open doorway – my room.

Sherlock was sitting in an armchair, wrapped in a blanket, staring intently at his laptop. "John," he acknowledged my existence.

"Sherlock," I nodded. "Hey let me ask you a question."

"Ask me two," he replied. I couldn't telling if he was being a smartass or just serious.

"No one is fine. Just – How did you know all that?"

"Know all what?"

"When I first walked in the lab, and you knew everything. Did my parents talk to you? Harry? Who?" I asked.

"I don't know your parents. And you don't talk to Harry – "

"How do you know this!" I stressed.

Sherlock took his eyes off his laptop. "How you said the name. It was in a tone that led me to believe you don't talk to them. Probably haven't in a while. A falling out probably."

"So how do you know all this?"

"Deduction," he answered. "Simple."

"No, not simple. How did you do that? I mean, all you did is look at me for like, two seconds. How?"

Sherlock sighed, sounding a bit bothered. "I say what I see."

"How did you see all that?"

"While everyone else watches the world, I observe it." It was as plain as that.

"You observe it?"

"The way you hold yourself, the stance, the clean cut. It practically screams 'Catholic School.' You have a big build, so you must have played sports. Your upper body is bigger than your lower body, so it was definitely a sport that required you to throw something. Not basketball because you're too stocky for it. You're limping, obvious you have an injury from that sport. But it's the only one you have, so you must be careful when you played. Since you transferred, you probably got into a fight after a game, which led to your transfer. Suspended?"

"Asked to consider switching schools," I corrected.

"Same thing."

"And my 'below average' intelligence?"

"The way you are nonchalant about your suspension, your face reeks of boredom. Like you rather be anywhere but here. But you'll stay. And you look like a person who has a lot of 'street smarts'," he used air quotes for that. "It shows you have common sense. Tea?" he offered.

"What? Oh, sure," I shrugged.

"Well you'll have to make it," he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes and went to go boil some water. "So that's just it? You 'observe'? That fast?"

"It's a gift," he shrugged. "Most people try to ignore me when they can. Except Molly, poor thing."

"Poor thing?"

"A couple of minutes with her around me, it won't need someone of my skills to see she's obsessed with me."

I snorted out a chuckled as I put the kettle on the stove. "Not interested?" I mused.

"Are you?" he shot my question back at me.

I shrugged. "I don't know, I don't even know her."

Sherlock just hummed and nodded. "Good answer." And I'd be damned if I saw a hint of a smile.