Oh, look! Super-sonic speeds of Sherlock! This time it's Johnlock and was based on 'The Ballad of Mona Lisa' which is probably why it doesn't make much sense. Hmm.
Sherlock was bored. Again. It's maths and he has nothing to do but look around. And what his eyes first land on is little Golden Boy John Watson. It was obvious that the blond had tried to pay attention and had ending up drawing instead.
Sherlock supposed John was a good guy. He was quiet, nice, and pleasant. John was exactly the opposite of the rest of the school's footballers, who thought it was great fun to trip Sherlock and call him things like 'Gaylock' or 'Sherpouf'. The footballers were idiots, in short. Except for John.
The thing about John was that he didn't do anything about the teasing. Sherlock knew he didn't like his 'friends' teasing him, but there were no actions taken.
"Mr. Holmes, are you paying any attention?"
Sherlock's gaze snapped away from the doodling John to Mrs. Hartnell, an old woman who was always cross and who liked to smack people's hands with rulers. For less than a second, her words swam in his ears.
"Y is equal to the square root of thirty," he said.
"That isn't what I asked."
Ah, a small price to pay for looking at John. "It was your next question, though."
"That is correct, Mr. Holmes. But try and pay attention."
Sherlock rolled his eyes once she turned away, and when he was back to his original position, he saw John looking at him and grinning. Sherlock did nothing. But, in his brain, he was grinning. When John smiled, it was like the sun raining down on him. Pleasantly warming and bright.
Sherlock knew that John wanted to be his friend. The smile was the sign, and he wanted to believe it. If John ever did become his friend, the two would make a team able to stop the bullying. Though, if they did, John would have to frown more. Sherlock would pay to see that.
Sherlock could tell John was desperate for a smart friend. He needed a friend who wouldn't end up making a mere 'dollar a day' at their job like all of the footballers. Sherlock knew that if John had the right words to use, he would say so. But after that, John would be unsure of what else to say.
"Sherlock is right, Mr. Mullen."
Sherlock was confused for a moment. Had someone just agreed with him? In a literature class? He looked towards the voice and saw John grinning at him again. Holding back yet another grin wore Sherlock out.
"Thanks," he chose to mouth to the blond, who just grinned wider.
What a nice feeling it was to make John happy. It was odd to Sherlock, but he supposed it was pleasant. Still, it was an emotion, and for Sherlock, was tired out quickly. It would at least take him ten minutes to recharge, so he had until the bell rang.
"Don't forget your homework, students," called Mr. Mullen as most of the class ran out the door.
He left soon after, not noticing the two kids left. Sherlock was alone in a room with a smiling John.
"Thank you," said Sherlock, stuffing his literature book into his ratty bag.
"No problem. Look, I'm sorry about my friends."
"Yeah, I figured. It isn't a problem, John. Goodbye."
Sherlock left the room, a very confused John standing still as a statue behind him. Sherlock grinned. Maybe he would be friends with John, after all.
And end of chapter. It was meant to be a one shot…but no.