Title: Of Rats and Men
Chapter: Clue in the Library
Characters: John Watson; Sherlock Holmes; Jim Moriarty
Place: University - namely John's and Sherlock's shared dorm and the library
Mood: Teasing; Taunting; Annoyed
Warnings: See the bottom of the page
Enjoy.
John opened the door to his room, sighing and lugging a bag of books over his bag. He never expected college to be so hard. Where were all the fun parties and crazy antics that had been promised to him upon arrival? He stepped into dorm 221-B and shut the door, turning on the light before heading over to his bed. He collapsed down with an audible sigh. He had a crap tonne of homework to do and none of it easy. John sat up and rubbed his head, opening up his laptop.
Sherlock startled when he heard the door shut, quite surprised his dormmate was back already. What happened to his usual rugby training? He shrugged, deciding that he didn't care enough to actually ask, and stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his hips and drying his hair with other. He pointedly ignored the older student, moving to rummage trough his clothes.
He peered over the top of his laptop. Of course. Sherlock wouldn't of had the decencey to change in the bathroom. John rolled his eyes, getting back to his research online and checking the time. Somehow he had to manage getting to his date on time and finishing up at least half his homework. After he sprained his ankle in his last rugby match, John had more time than usual to get his work done, grudgingly.
Sherlock changed into his trousers and long grey shirt, that was way too large for him, sitting cross-legged onto his bed. He watched the older for a moment, thinking that maybe he could annoy him just to have something to do. And it was always nice, riling the male up, not even talking about the fact that he could have all of his attention, if only for a moment. Without saying anything, though, he kept on staring on Watson, smirking when he wondered how long would it take him to notice.
After a while of typing, John started to feel a bit uneasy. He stole a glance at the other boy. Oh great, he was staring. He wasn't doing that bloody annoying thing was he? Why couldn't he just leave him alone? "Got a problem, Holmes?" He called, his attention returned to his blog.
"Yes." Sherlock grinned, though he hid it with his hand. He felt almost giddy, deciding not to look away. His eyes flicked down at the laptop on Watson's lap - so he was either chatting, doing school work, or playing with his blog. He wasn't smiling in that stupid way of his, so it wasn't chatting. Since he wasn't concentrated enough, it was the blog.
"Then what is it?" He didn't bother to look up at the younger man, though there was obvious annoyance in his voice. He continued to type, his fingers hitting the keys a little harder than before.
Sherlock's smirk only widened. "None of your business." he sang irritably, staring still. He shuffled to raise his knees against his chest, leaning onto them.
"Well obviously it is, since you're staring at me. What have you got a problem with me?" He slammed the laptop's screen down, glaring at the boy. He had been trying to control his anger issues but Sherlock was pushing it. He had had an immensely stressful day and this wasn't helping.
He blinked innocently up at him. "Not a problem with you, just finishing up an experiment." he grinned softly. He noticed Watson's hands form into fists, obviously angry. That was fun. Just a little more, and the older would either try to punch him, or scream and leave. Both would be quite fun, though he wouldn't really like him leaving.
"Then why the hell are you looking at me? If you're going to look at something for the sake of looking, look anywhere else! You're making me incredibly uncomfortable!" He stood up, storming off ingo the small excuse for a kitchen and put water in the kettle, boiling it. A cup of tea would calm him down.
Sherlock leaned sideways to be able to watch the older even though he was in another room. "I told you I am finishing up an experiment." he smirked at him rather evilly, tapping his chin with his finger.
"And I'm guessing this 'experiment' is none of my business as well?" He inquired bitterly, getting the milk out of the fridge. "A scientific or social experiment?"
"Partly both." he informed him. "And it is your business, actually, since you are the subject." he lied with a smirk, moving to lay sprawled over his bed with his head hanging from the edge, still staring.
"I'm the subject? Then what the hell is this experiment? You haven't drugged the milk have you?" He remarked, pouring the water into the cup and stirring it. "Did you want one?" He was getting more and more annoyed at the man's childish behaviour.
"Of course I don't want one." Sherlock rolled his eyes, which was quite a feat since he was upside-down, "And I put aphrodisiacs into the tea you drank about three hours ago." he lied again, watching for any signs of anger or horror coming from the other.
John froze. "A-aphrodisiacs?" He glared at him. "Why the hell did you do that?! You bloody git! I'm sure that's agains the law or something?" He threw the teaspoon into the sink angrily and marched back into the room, glowering at Sherlock.
"I was curious what would happen." he lied, amused. It looked as if he succeeded in making the older furious, that was fun. And he probably wouldn't leave since he would be scared the drugs would do something to him. That was even more fun. "But you aren't showing any signs yet. That's curious."
"I-i-i.." He was completely lost for words at the man's obvious lack of care. "You can't just do that, Holmes! For fuck's sake.." He rubbed his head, frustrated and quite frankly horrified at any effects that would come to light. "I've got a date later for Christ's sake!"
"Well, good for you then." Sherlock grinned. "It might even be helpful." he taunted, making show of making himself comfortable. He stared up at the older male, wondering if he would really punch him this time, or just shout.
John really couldn't take this any more, he leapt for Sherlock, straddling him and punched him in the jaw. "You complete and utter arse-face!" He shouted at the younger, so tempted to strangle him. He grabbed Sherlock's face and bashed it against the headboard. "You dickhead!"
Sherlock gasped for breath as he god winded, but soon started laughing madly, pressing his feet into John's stomach and throwing him over his head and onto the floor. He sat up, looking down at him amused, while rubbing his hurting head. He noticed a bit of blood on the spot where John slammed him against the wood, and grinned.
John got up again, glaring at him. "What the hell is your problem you freak? I can see why you have no bloody friends when all you do is treat people like shit! Like you're oh so above them! You're just like your douchebag of a brother!" He went to go punch him again but he had lost all spark in him to do so. He just glared irate at him and returned to his tea.
Sherlock felt irritation get a hold of him and moved up, frowning fiercely at the older. "I am nothing like my brother." he whispered furiously, but loud enough for Watson to hear him. "You never talked to him, I am nothing like him."
"Oh really? Could have fooled me! I might not have talked to him but I've seen him around campus. He's a complete douchebag! Just like you apparently!" He sipped his tea, glaring at him still.
The younger looked down, blinking down tears from his eyes. He quickly stood up, walking out of the dorm still barefoot, turning around only when he was in the doorway. "I lied. About the drugs I mean." he admitted, closing the door silently behind himself. Library then, since he couldn't go out without his shoes.
He shook his head in annoyance, really not caring for the other. "Good! Clear off! No one wants you here anyways you prick" He yelled after him, finishing his tea. A small voice at the back of John's head was telling him to feel guilty, but his anger drowned it out as he returned to his laptop.
About twenty minutes later, Sherlock was browsing the isles of library. There was almost no one there, leaving the place quiet and calm. Too bad he couldn't concentrate, feeling dizzy. He thought that maybe he should have taken a look at the wound on his head, but just shrugged it off. Wondering how long would it take for John to leave on his date, he flicked trough a book about bees, he haven't read yet.
A boy, looking at Sherlock from one bookcase opposite him smiled shyly, "Your head doesn't look too good.." He pulled the books away to get a better look at the other, he blinked slowly behind his glasses.
"You aren't so hot either." Sherlock snapped back, moving away. Honestly, could no one read any more? Or was the sign 'Silence in the library' invisible? He snapped the book shut, moving towards the librarian to borrow it.
The boy followed him, smiling awkwardly, clutching a book in his arms with a nervous laugh. "I guess not... Umm.. Are you going to be ok? I couldn't help but notice you looked a wee bit angry.."
"No one can help me." he muttered, quite aware that he was being over-dramatic and broody, but he just didn't care. Why did the boy even care? They didn't even know each other. He gave a soft smile towards the librarian - she was dull, but smart - and signed that yes, he agreed to the terms of borrowing the book.
"Are you sure.. I err... I could help? Maybe? " The boy smiled almost desperately, his eyes looking at Sherlock in wonder. "I... I've been watching you for a while." He blushed slightly.
Sherlock turned around in surprise. "Why?" he blurted out, blinking up at the boy, as if he was some weird creature never seen. "And really, no one can help me." he repeated again, surprising himself by actually smiling this time.
He smiled more at Sherlock's smile, blushing more and running a hand through his short, black hair. "I.. uh.. You're really interesting? Uhh and yeah.. I've seen you around campus alot. We're in some of the same classes. But uh.. no one would really notice me. Not that I mind." His stance was slightly awkward and unconfident, holding the book close to him.
"Are you smart?" Sherlock leaned closer to him, trying to read the title of the book. He wasn't successful, though. "We could be friends." he offered with a shrug, feeling a bit awkward himself, since he never had a friend before.
"R-really?" His smile brightened and his eyes opening in slight disbelief. "I uhh.. I'm not sure.. I'm not as smart as you though, you correcting the teachers and stuff." He let out a slight giggle.
Sherlock shrugged, raising his hand and offering it for a shake. "I am Sherlock." he said with a small smile. Maybe he finally met someone who didn't think him 'freak'. That would be nice.
"I.. I know." He laughed gently, lending a very shakey hand to the handshake, which was weak on his half. "It's really really great to meet you! I'm Jim."
"So what are you reading?" Sherlock asked as an afterthought, rubbing his hand over his bruised jaw.
"Norton Anthology of English literature.. kinda boring I think but uhh.. I've read quite a few of these books already. " He smiled, looking over, concerned. "Are you ok..? Your jaw looks really sore. Did you get into a fight? Bet you won." He giggled again lightly.
"So you study literature? It's sounds a bit boring.." he shrugged, not meaning it as an insult, only an observation. "I just angered my dormmate." he felt himself smiling, previous bitter anger at being called 'like his brother' leaving him. "And he is quite.. strong."
"Yes.. I do.. I uhh.. It can be a bit boring but Mam's making me do it." He reshifted himself, holding the heavy book still. "Oh.. I can imagine he could be quite strong. Looks like an awful bruise. Might be there for a while."
Sherlock smirked, finding the conversation quite amusing. "I will go now, need to get a look at the gash." he gesticulated towards the back of his head, hoping that his dormmate was already away. "We will meet." he nodded towards Jim as a goodbye.
"You sure you don't want me to come with you..?" He asked hopefully, then nodded as it was obvious it was a no. "Ok.. Thank you." He smiled brightly, "I'll look forwards to it. Oh! Can I have your number..?" He placed the book on the librarian's desk to be checked out
Sherlock shrugged halfway out of the library, and called his number at him, thinking that if Jim wanted it, he would have to remember. He quickly jogged towards his dorm, since he was barefoot and the floor was cold.
Jim leaned back against the counter coolly, all previous look of shyness and awkwardness gone as he rolled his eyes, smirking. He added Sherlock's number to his phone and pulled out a piece of gum from his pocket, popping it in his mouth before taking the book without a single glance at the librarian.
Very well. This is a story co-written by two people. One is obviously me. The second (or probably the first, who knows) is CheshireCheeseNate.
That's important.
Another important thing is that this was created as a Role Played story, so you can notice every paragraph is from different angle, different person. It might be a bit confusing, but for the sake of authenticity of the story, there is nothing we could (or would want) to do about it.
Another thing is that neither of us is perfect in English, so if you spot any mistake trough the story, that hurts your eyes, don't hesitate and leave a message. I will see to correct it.
In the story, there will of course appear loads of references. I will try to explain those that are not explained as a part of the story, but if I miss anyone, don't hesitate to ask.
One more thing - probably - since we both have our share of characters, I am starting a game. If anyone can write me - or CheshireCheeseNate - a message where is a list with all the characters in here (of course only from those chapters that are posted up to the day you sent it) correctly matched with their RP'er, the person will be a winner. I don't know what will the person win, but I guess you can add that into the message, right? :) Just something that is possible, please.
That should be all. Possibly.
Smile - because that makes people very confused.
