A/N: This is a Teen!lock Sherlolly story. I'm completely unbetaed. Also, this is mostly a feel good fluff fic designed to give you happy feels. Rated T for teen drinking in later chapters, and talk of shagging and snogging, though nothing is explicit, because I'm not comfortable writing smut, nor do I really enjoy reading it. The ships present are Sherlolly, Jary, and Mystrade, just because.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. All of it belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Teen!lock Sherlolly
CHAPTER 1
Molly Hooper, though she was in highschool, still believed in fairy tales. She was seventeen, and though she'd had a boyfriend once for a few weeks, she'd never been kissed. She was certain that her Prince Charming would come to sweep her off her feet. That dream, at least in part, was shattered the moment she stepped into Appledore Academy.
Sherlock Holmes and his best friend, John Watson, stepped off the train, luggage in tow.
"Another year of my parents' money being wasted," Sherlock grumbled.
John jokingly punched him in the arm. "Oh, come on, Sherlock. It won't be that bad."
Sherlock scoffed. "That's what you think. Headmaster Magnussen has it in for me. Actually, I think Professor Hudson is the only prof who actually likes me. And she's the only professor I actually like."
"The home ec teacher?"
"She lets me keep some of my experiments in her fridge."
John rolled his eyes, and then spotted a shock of silver hair. "Greg," John called, waving the boy over.
"John! Sherlock!" The boy ran over, and grabbed the two in a hug. When he pulled away, a knowing look passed between Sherlock and Greg. Just at the end of last year, Sherlock had confronted Greg about his closeted homosexuality.
"Greg, you're gay aren't you," Sherlock had said, when the two were studying late in the library.
Greg had shushed him. "I don't want the whole world knowing."
"Greg, I don't have a problem with it. I just want to know why you're hiding it."
The silver haired boy had cleared his throat. "I...I don't think my father will approve. It might...tarnish the family name, you know?"
Sherlock had rolled his eyes. "Well, it's your life. You should be able to make your own decisions, but if you insist, mum's the word. I promise."
The look now shared between the two boys was an acknowledgement that Sherlock's promise was still intact.
"Thank God I found you," Greg moaned. "My baby cousin Phillip's girlfriend has reached high school. I've never seen two kids swap so much spit."
Phillip Anderson was a sophomore this year, and his girlfriend Sally Donovan was now a freshman. As if on command from Greg's declaration, the two walked around the corner, the epitome of sickening young love.
"Get a room," John called out mockingly.
"John, please don't encourage them," Sherlock pleaded. "There's already too much stupid in the room."
John and Greg for once agreed with Sherlock's caustic observation, and the trio marched off in the direction of the Academy.
Molly stood amongst a swarm of her new peers, trying to gain her bearings. She had been placed in the East Wing dormitories, with someone named M. Morstan as her roommate. The only problem was, Molly had no clue where she was, with no clue as to how to find the East Wing dormitories.
Suddenly, a short girl, with a pretty, round face and cropped blonde hair, tapped her on the shoulder. "Are you lost, sweetie?"
Molly nodded. The girl gave her a warm smile. "My name's Mary. Mary Morstan. Yours?"
The brunette grinned. "Molly Hooper, and I do believe I am your roommate."
Mary grinned. "Great! Welcome to Appledore! Come on! Off to East Wing!"
Sherlock found himself in East Wing, Baker Hall, Room 221, rooming of course with John. Seniors at Appledore got the "perk" of being in the only co-ed wing of the building.
As he laid on his bed, he heard a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," john said. He opened the door to meet Mary and Molly.
John pecked Mary on the lips. The blonde giggled, and turned to her new friend and roommate. "Molly, this is my boyfriend, John, and that," she pointed, indicating the other occupant of Room 221, "is Sherlock."
John invited the girls in, and he sat on his bed with Mary. Molly took a seat in the swivel chair by the desk.
"So," John asked. "Where are you from, Molly?"
"I'm from…"
"...Northamptonshire." Sherlock finished.
Molly was flabbergasted. She'd never met this boy. "How...how did you know?"
Sherlock opened his eyes and stood before Molly, scanning her up and down. "Your accent alone proves you're from Northamptonshire. You are the eldest of two, and take your role of eldest very seriously. Your...sister is still in primary school. You have no pets, due to your mother's allergy, but you wish you could have a cat. You also plan to study pathology in university. You've never had a relationship that lasted longer than five weeks, nor have you ever been kissed."
Molly stared at him. "You...how did…"
"I observe." He laid back down.
Molly sat speechless. "Don't worry," John assured her. "He does that to everyone."
Molly nodded. Just then, there was another knock at the door. Mary stood and opened it. Molly watched as a silver-haired boy munching on a doughnut sauntered in. He smirked as he took notice of Molly's gaze.
"Sherlock, get to you then, love? Don't worry. He's like that to everyone. Rest assured, the other guys here at Appledore at least have some manners."
Molly nodded soberly. The silver-haired boy extended his hand. "Greg Lestrade."
The brunette took it. "Molly Hooper."
"Welcome to Appledore."
Molly couldn't sleep that night. She'd always felt self-conscious, but she'd never felt as exposed as when Sherlock had laid her entire life bare.
Despite his asinine behavior, Molly was intrigued by the raven-haired boy in Room 221. Sherlock was the opposite of boyfriend material, yet he held a mysterious charm. Molly supposed his charm laid in his intelligence. His eyes, like swirling oceans of blue, green, and gold, had burned their gaze into her soul.
That night, Molly's dreams were haunted by the anti-Prince Charming, who had somehow stolen her heart.