Hai :) I've just finished Prelim 1 of my exams, so to wind down, I thought of posting this and Scar (John/Molly) :3 On the subject of school, I don't attend it just to be disturbed in class. Then again, neither do I want to gain knowledge about trigonometry, but that's a different story. Hope you like this :DDD
"One more time you do that, Sherlock, I swear I'll make sure you never come near my lunch ever again," John hissed at the teen behind him, whose head on the table was the only part of his body visible to the blond, his hands on his lap under said table.
"What can I do then?" Sherlock asked his friend as another ball of crushed paper flew from his hand to John's head again, this time landing on the latter's desk. John flinched at the contact with the paper and turned around to grab it then faced Sherlock again, reeling his hand behind to throw it back at him, when Mrs Hudson saw what he was doing. "John Hamish Watson! What are you doing, throwing paper balls around? Do you think you're still in primary school?"
The rest of the class sniggered as John felt the heat of the embarrassment on his cheeks. He glared at the raven haired boy behind him, who rolled his eyes in response, and faced the front. Sherlock sighed as Mrs Hudson continued teaching, boredom sinking in. Maybe if he were to use a pen cap instead…
"Really, do you have to do that, you-" John pointed an angry finger at Sherlock when class ended, and both were at their lockers.
"Clot?" he provided. "Doofus? Idiot? Oh, this one's nice: moron?"
"-git?!"
Sherlock made a show of thinking. "Hmm, I admit, that one tops all."
"Can you stop disturbing me and getting the both of us into trouble? Just because you think the lessons are boring doesn't mean you have to interrupt me in my learning!"
"Your learning? I thought most of the time you were busy staring at the back of Mary's head."
"Look, don't disturb me," John did his best to ignore the fact that his secret was found out and jabbed at Sherlock's chest hard to bring home his point, "or else no lunch."
As the bell rang, indicating that the next lesson was Physics, Sherlock stared at John. "You wouldn't."
John knew how much Sherlock preferred his mother's pastries to the bleak cafeteria food, so enticing him with his lunch usually made him coorperative. "Oh, I would. Don't disturb me and pastries will continue to be in your hands."
"Whatever," Sherlock gave in and grabbed his Physics books, slamming his locker door shut and walking away, leaving John behind, "we better hurry, though, or else Mr Lestrade will punish us for being late again."
"Fine, fine, I'm hurrying," John called out, hastily taking out his books, and ran to catch up with the teen and make their way to the lab.
Molly was, as usual, five minutes early when she arrived at the lab. The teacher was not even in yet, and she took the short time to perfect her homework that was supposed to be handed in later on.
"Oh, early as usual," Donovan commented when she walked in to the lab to see the quiet girl alone.
"Yeah, as usual. Hi Sally!" Molly gave her a smile which was reciprocated as Donovan made her way to her bench two rows behind her. Molly turned in her chair to face her and both talked about the previous test they had taken as the teacher finally arrived and students came through the door and sat at their seats after handing in their homework. Donovan volunteered to hand in Molly's as she walked down the aisle to hand in hers, and Molly thanked her with a huge smile.
"John and Sherlock, looks like you're late again," Mr Lestrade shook his head as the two teenage boys finally made it to the lab.
John apologised while Sherlock handed in both their homework. "Mr Lestrade, looks like you stayed up watching the football match again. Wife's advice 'in one ear, out the other', eh?"
Mr Lestrade sighed and rubbed his temples as Sherlock made his way to his seat beside Molly and John to Anderson. He knew Sherlock would figure it out but no, he had wanted to see more of the boy's deductive ability. And again, he was right. Shaking his head again, he started the lesson.
Molly tried to concentrate on Mr Lestrade's teaching. Really, she did. But it was certainly hard to do so if your crush was just sitting right beside you. Well, in her case, more like slouching forward, his chin propped up on the bench. During her sneaking glances at him, she concluded that he looked adorable this way.
"Molly, I can tell you're taking glances at me. Stop it," a low voice cut through her thoughts and, after taking one final glance at the teen beside her, she looked down at her notes, face burning up.
After that, it was much easier to concentrate in the class. Molly was actively taking notes and pointers down when a small piece of paper appeared right beside her pencil box. She frowned at the only word on it, 'Bored', and looked at her partner, head still on the bench. He turned his head and faced her, cheek on the table-top now. They stared at each other for a moment before Molly backed down and scribbled her response on a fresh sheet of paper. 'Sorry, don't think I can do anything.'
'Yes you can. Lend me your phone.'
'What? No. We can't use our phones in the class.'
'Mr Lestrade's eyesight is deteriorating due to the constant watching of late night football matches in the dark. He won't notice.'
'Yes he will.'
'No he won't.'
'Yes he will. You don't know everything.'
'No he won't. I do know everything, and I know you had a squabble with your brother this morning.'
Molly held an expression of doubt and, taking a glance at Mr Lestrade's back, she sighed and responded, 'Okay, fine. Don't bring attention to us.'
She passed him her phone underneath the bench while he slid his reply towards her. 'When have I ever done that?'
…really? She could recall about 7 times.
Two minutes later, a short jingle of music came from Mr Lestrade's phone, indicating a text message. He told the class to start doing the questions assigned to them and walked over to the teacher's desk to pick up his phone and read the message. His eyes widen before he frowned, and looked towards the noisy class, eyeing one student in particular.
"Sherlock, why is Mr Lestrade glaring at our table?" Molly asked the slouching boy nervously.
"Because I sent him a text saying his fly's unzipped," he responded boredly.
"Wha-? Wait, you-you used my phone to text him?!" she turned to him, voice no longer nervous; rather, it held an edge to it.
"What was that, a phone?" the teacher picked up her words among the chatter of the other students, and continued, "Sherlock, I know you sent me that text. Hand over the phone now."
Sherlock got up and walked to him, Molly watching his movements with disbelief and a gaping mouth. He placed the phone into Mr Lestrade's waiting hand and said, "Was trying to save you your dignity, sir."
"Yes, fine, thank you, but you've broken a school rule of course. Detention for an hour after school."
"Yes, sir," he said, then went back to his seat. Molly closed her eyes tightly, scolding herself for falling for his charm. Again.
"How many times is it now?" Sherlock asked her with a slight smirk on his lips.
Molly groaned as Mr Lestrade continued his lesson. "Now's the fourth time you've gotten my phone confiscated."