Disclaimer: Like all fanfic writers before me, I'm obligated to put up a handy-dandy disclaimer. I don't own Sherlock Holmes, even if I do idolize the man.

Author's Note: This is a Sherlock Holmes fanfic set in a modern-day college setting. It's also the first fanfic I've ever written. For those of you out there who may be inclined to pair up these two cynics, I'm sorry! Mary Sue's are all and good when they're well written, but this is my effort to veer from that. Pouting will get you no where. (Chocolate, on the other hand... *wink*) There will eventually be a romance for one o'em later on, but that's beside the point.

Enjoy the fic! Be kind and review!

Always,
Naomi-chan

Chapter One

It was just like any other day in the life of a college student. If I can truly be called that. It's almost Easter and still I haven't figured out what's wrong with me. Deadlines have come and gone, and I sit staring at certain failure. I don't know why, but it doesn't trouble me like I thought it would. It scares me more than anything. Scared because of the unknown, of the uncertainty of my future. My father told me once that even if I fail out of college, he was absolutely certain that I would make it in this world. That I would grow up to be someone that people admired and respected. That whatever happened was sure to be the best for me.

What a load of bull.

But I'd gladly take that load of bull over the other options. I've lived this life for far too long. My fear freezes my days into monotony, consuming any and every non-thinking path I can take. Sure it's the easy path. Sure I always tell my friends and loved ones to never take the easy path. Sure I'm a hypocrite. Bite me. I'm terrified of taking the other path, even if I'm faced with a certain dead end. I lose myself in daydreams and fantasy, even going so far as to attempt to write my dreams to make those fantasies come alive. Maybe for just those few moments I can forget the world around me, the sadness, the absolute fear of everything around me, and imagine that I'm in a world where everything will turn out alright. Where the heroine will always be saved from imminent danger by the hero. Her hero. My life. Not.

Something tells me I'm suffering from depression. If I am, I don't have too many of those "common symptoms" you always hear about. I don't sleep fourteen hours a day, nor have I withdrawn from my friends and family. If anything, I'm sleeping less than I ever did in high school, and my almost negligent group of friends that I had had up until now has quadrupled in the past two months. I'm always known for the smile on my face; the really sweet girl who always does her best to make her friends smile. Bah. It's the only happiness I can get, I suppose. There is absolutely nothing that brightens my day more than having made someone's day. To see someone smile and to know that it was me who made them smile. Which is why I get jealous and hurt every time I see someone else make them smile in my place. Yet it warms my heart anyway from the mere happiness of the moment. I hate it. I can never truly hate anyone who makes another person happy.

None of that has anything to do with what happened today, nor what happened yesterday or the day before. Although that little annoying voice in my head is calmly informing me that it's important anyway. Che. It's not like anything particularly interesting happened anyway. In my life of monotony it is a rare sight indeed to find something even halfway out of the ordinary. Sometimes it hurts to have a conscience.

I don't have any classes on Tuesday, so it's become my custom to sleep in... or to not sleep at all and catch up sometime mid-day before chorus. Unfortunately chorus has ended for the semester, so I'm left with nothing to really want to wake up to. It's been a few days since I've gotten a decent amount of sleep, so I forced myself to go back to sleep after I woke up from the traditional eight hours of rest. Twelve will do me much more use in the end.

Anyway, so there I was, trying to find a seat in the cafeteria for my second bowl of tomato soup when my eyes caught upon a peculiar figure. Or should I say hair. In all my tentative tumbles through the world of anime, I had gotten used to the strange hair colors that the characters boasted. Back home I'd seen more than my share of fellow classmates show up at school with everything from magenta to turquoise colored hair, freshly dyed the night before. Yet no matter how used to such things I may be, the sight of someone actually sitting in the middle of the busy cafeteria with white hair made me do a double-take.

My curiosity piqued, not to mention the fact that I was a bit lonely myself, and I made my way over to his table. That ever-present smile was still on my face as I asked him if he minded if I joined him. He responded by waving me over to the chair with a casual "Sure." and a smile. It may seem unusual to you, but around this campus, it is customary for people to go around and sit with random people in the cafeteria, as well as smile and say "hello" to any and all who you met on your way to class and back. We also have ice cream socials in the student union every now and then and then go out to make a random tunnel of snow in the dead of winter next to the inflatable pool the school appropriated as a skating rink. And the best part is you think I'm kidding...

Sitting down, my first thought was towards the food in front of me. I smiled apologetically at him, mixing in the parmesan cheese. "I feel like a hobbit. This is my second dinner today." As expected, he chuckled lightly at the remark. He looked like he was old enough to be a professor at second glance, but that chuckle could not have been too much older than I was. Maybe it was the hair. The humor was lost on him as well. He might have been more amused if a friend had said such a thing rather than a random freshman. Bothersome, respectable upperclassmen.

"Cameron Holmes."

"Robin Watson."

The irony was not lost on us, I assure you. At least that got a genuine smile out of the guy. Well, more like a smirk. Possibly a half-grimace. Oh to heck with it, at least it was genuine. I spotted the tell-tale signs of relaxation as one cynic found another. Ah well, I might as well get the other pleasantries over with if I wanted to have any chance at finishing my soup while it was still warm. "Year?"

"Junior." He ignored my slightly surprised expression. I could tell he was used to the incredulous blinks. "You?"

"Freshman. Major?"

"English. And I assume you're an undecided music major?" I fought against gaping openly. Bloody hell... I opened my mouth to ask how in the world he figured that out, when he answered it for me. "I saw you sing last Sunday." There was still a suspicious glint to my eyes, but I left it at that. I shook my head with a smile.

"Elementary, my dear Watson!" I mused sarcastically. Again, that smirk. Yeah well, I could be observant too. "How long have you been a vegetarian?"

"When did you start drawing again?" Drat him. He knew exactly what I was doing, of course. It amused him to no end, too. Bothersome upperclassman indeed.

"Why do you keep a journal using an old fashioned pen and ink set?" Ha! There! I finally managed to make that smug smirk flicker slightly. But of course, the mighty Mr. Holmes had to play his trump card. He even leaned in and pointed at me with his fork for effect.

"You're half-Mexican, aren't you? Mother's side. You also look exactly like she did at your age." I couldn't stop the gape this time, although a part of me was relieved the little "game" was over; I could find nothing else on the immaculate little twerp. The pen and ink set had been a stroke of pure luck, as well as the vegetarian thing. If you're wondering why I was so surprised that he guessed my nationality, you need only take one glance at my skin. I was paler than every relative on both sides of the family. No one, and I do repeat, no one, had ever suspected it before I told them or they had heard me speak Spanish. Light almighty, who was this man? How the hell did he figure that one out?

That absurdly smug smirk returned full force when I voiced the question out loud. It was beginning to irk me, that it was. Mental note: Read less Rurouni Kenshin fanfiction. He waved a hand, seemingly more interested in his half-finished plate of macaroni than answering my question. "Don't worry yourself about it. Just me trying to live up to my namesake. And no, I'm not related to the fictional character in any way that I know of. Unless my mom forgot to tell me something..." He winked. I laughed. Well if he wasn't going to give me a choice, then I'd have to be content with that. A friend is a friend, regardless of how they're made.

"You know, around this time, the laws of cheesiness would probably require one of us to say something along the lines of how it was fate that caused our wandering, lonely paths to cross on this appointed day, or some such nonsense." He snickered, nodding amiably. "Tis lucky I don't follow those rules, eh?" Holmes gave me a half-smile before turning back to his food. I firmly squashed down the uncomfortable feeling by returning to my soup. A friend, sure, but the fact remained that I had just met the guy. I could torture him with hideous puns later.

Surprisingly - or unsurprisingly, depending on how well you knew either of us - the rest of the meal was passed on in rather amiable silence. At least I had company in my silence. Second dinners were always a pain. Finally reaching the bottom of my bowl, I leaned back, stretching. Some evil creature in the back of my mind gave me an idea. Or maybe it was the inevitable Japanese culture sinking in. Standing and collecting my tray, I nodded to him. The sudden movement seemed to have broken his thoughts, and he blinked back at me for half a second before recovering. I couldn't help but smirk slightly. Ha. Even Mr. Observant himself could get lost in thought.

"Well, I'll see you around, Mr. Holmes. Enjoy the rest of dinner." He smirked right back up at me, nodding.

"See you later, Miss Watson."

I left, pushing my absurdly bare tray onto the conveyer belt and making sure I grabbed my keys before they got whisked away as well. Well that was an interesting dinner... sorta. My thoughts reverted back to my Calculus test yesterday and the anime I was going to watch tonight. It was a fat chance that I'd catch the guy around again anyway. Upperclassmen very rarely came to eat at the cafeteria. Easy acquaintance to gain, easy to walk right out of my life. Go figure. I could've used the editing help with my papers too. Not that I would've asked him to edit them, but that's not the point. Bah. Maybe Ana would-

"Hey Watson!"

"Eh?" I turned at the door to find the white-haired man of my thoughts jogging to catch up. "Holmes?" I let the cold air in as I waited for him to catch up. Not that anyone would've noticed over the air conditioning they had foolishly turned on. Either way, Holmes shot a half-apologetic look at the cafeteria worker who looked less than happy to find a draft heading her way. Hey... since when did I start calling people by their last names? Bother.

"What are you headed?" I blinked at him. I'd known him for all of half an hour and here he was asking where I was going? I had just been thinking that I was most likely not going to see him again. Although that light blush was just too funny. It contrasted nicely with his snowy tresses.

"The Coop." The O'Connor Campus Center. Not a chicken coop. Silly. There wasn't a single building on campus that didn't have a nickname of some sort. I loved that about this University; it had a lot of character.

"Mind if I join you?" He said, falling in step with me as we headed up the bloody hill. I shook my head.

"Sure. What do you have to do up there?"

"I was going to do some writing." Writing? How original. Oh wait, he's an English major. "What about you?"

"I need to update some things on the Stairwells' site." The Stairwells were my a capella group. They had only been around for a year and a half so far. "What are you writing?"

"Nothing much, just a personal project." Oooh, secretive aren't we? Fine, I'll take the bait. For now.

"Personal project?"

"Yeah, you could call it my first novel, I suppose." You mean he hadn't written ten books already? Le gasp!

"Only your first?"

"Yeah well, I didn't always want to be an English major, you know." He suddenly looked at me with a critical look in his eye. I tried not to squirm, but Light, it was hard! His cool green eyes made me feel like I was a piece of meat for auction. Apparently he found something worthwhile, as he continued. "Could you help me with it, possibly?"

What in the world? Help him write his novel? How was I supposed to do that? Sit there and massage his shoulders while he typed the dratted thing out? Fetch him lemonade and aspirin so he could think past his writer's block? "Help you?" He nodded. I waited.

"I need to do some personal research on my subject, you see." Personal research? I gave him a flat look. There were more than enough perverted guys in this school without adding one more white-haired bishounen to the list.

"You don't say..." Another blush, although he covered it up well with a flat look of his own. Okay, so maybe he wasn't as perverted as I had first thought. Still, it's not like he could really get away with saying those kinds of things around a college campus. First reactions always end up in the gutter, no matter what you do. He was still giving me that look. Fine, fine! "What kind of story is it?" He grinned then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Why a mystery novel, of course."

Till next time... please review!