A Scandal in Bloomsbury

By "That's Why I'm Sherlock And You're Watson"

Chapter One

The taxi pulled up and John leaped out with a nod of thanks to the cabbie as he thrust a crumpled note through his window. Looking up at the supposedly deserted building, it seemed eerie that the lights were on in the middle of the night. He lifted his jacket collar as he shivered against the night air and made for the door, desperately trying to think where to start. He figured his only choice was to systematically search the building, room by room.

John ran through the corridors of the college, his frantic footsteps echoing through the empty halls. He glanced through the window at every door, trying to find a balance between looking too hard and wasting time, and missing the room he was looking for. A panic began to rise within him as he glanced at the clock above the entrance to each identical corridor - he could see the minutes passing as he raced through the labyrinth of classrooms and lecture halls. He couldn't tell for sure, but he knew inside that something was wrong. It was a good job he was physically fit, he thought as he tackled the stairs, his mind focused on the friend he was searching for. He replayed the phone call over and over in his head.

Then he saw him. With a glance he did a double take and stopped. The dark hair and suit: definitely him. No mistaking. He thought he had made it, just in time, as he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, and felt the cold metal against his palms that had, by now, started to sweat.

"Stamford!" he shouted.

Stamford started in alarm at the sudden noise as he turned to see John, gasping for breath in the doorway, "John, you're out of breath".

"Well… yes!" he panted "You told me it was an emergency. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I didn't mean it was a real emergency, just y'know, pretty important."

John crouched, leaning against the wall and gulping lungfuls of air. "Don't do that to me again Mike, seriously. I thought there was something seriously bloody wrong".

"You're so loyal" Mike chuckled. "Anything for a comrade, eh?"

"Better directions would have been nice before you hung up at least." John looked around the empty classroom - he hadn't been here before. Wasn't this the English department?

"So – wa.. wait, what are you doing here at eleven at night?", John was accustomed to racing through the university to class, but this was a building he hadn't frequented since first year. John was a fourth year medical student and Mike Stamford, his peer. He certainly had never been anywhere other than the library at this hour before.

"Doing some work for ol' Jonesy, why?" Mike turned to look at John sat on the floor behind him. "Ha'way if you're going to sit then use a chair, man". Mike gestured to a stool to his right.

"Since when were you a student assistant to Jones?"

"Since I failed my last paper – and need him on my side before we start clinical rounds"

John murmured some sound of agreement. "Unfortunately, I think you need tits to have Jones on your side mate."

Stamford laughed. "Yeah, he's a right sleaze. If I were a girl, I'd bat my eyelashes and wear a low cut top. However, I am instead, working at eleven at night, doing research for him". The pair sat in silence as John surveyed the room a little more. "Here, you could get your Sarah to put in a good word for me. He loves her" teased Stamford.

"Shut up, Mike"

"What?"

"Don't talk about her like that!"

"Don't get touchy. Didn't say anything about her. Just that she's pretty and Jones' favourite. Both are true."

"I know, but the way he looks at her makes me sick. And anyway, she's not my Sarah"

"Yet" Mike winked at John optimistically. "You done anything about that yet?"

"No, no. But I will. I think"

"Get on with it. Before Jones gets there first!" scoffed Mike. John considered it briefly. He thought about it quite often actually, in fact sometimes constantly. When their schedules crossed at the hospital or the college, it took all his energy not to gaze at Sarah with eyes like a lost kitten. Worse still was when he saw her in halls – she lived the floor below, the opportunity was easily his but he never had had the initiative to actually get on with it and ask her out.

"Anyway, did you bring it?" Stamford snapped him out of his moment over Sarah, bringing his attention back to the reason that he was there in the first place and John reached into his pocket.

"Yes"

"Holmes, Sherlock. Enrolling in…" There was a pause as the light taps of the computer keyboard filled the otherwise silent office once again. Shifting impatiently, Sherlock resisted the urge to interrupt the woman's flow and instead took to scrutinizing the surrounding room, "Human Sciences, undergraduate degree" she concluded finally, glancing to the new student who gave a curt nod in return. The room fell back into the awkward quietness – the administrator's eyes darting between the computer screen, the clock on the wall and Sherlock himself. Just once, the latter allowed himself to look up at the clock behind him too, before his lips stretched into a slight smile.

"Don't say much, do you?" Turning his attention to the front, Sherlock found that the woman had stopped typing and was now looking directly into his face. He blinked wearily and shrugged his shoulders. With a soft chuckle, an empty form was pushed across the desk. Sherlock drew it closer and watched carefully as the administrator, once again, checked the time. The silence continued as Sherlock began to fill the form in lazily, scrawling his personal details with very little enthusiasm.

The tinny sound of some current pop song disturbed the formality of the setting and Sherlock took the short interruption to check his watch before briefly studying the young woman's face as she answered the phone.

"Hello…" A familiar caller, most likely routine, "I'm fine. How is your day going?" Definitely a personal call, "What have you been doing?" She's concerned; either the caller isn't invested in the conversation or the routine is different from normal. Or perhaps it's both. Sherlock, still leafing through the pages of his welcoming paperwork, narrowed his eyes in concentration. Really, the call was none of his business, yet the mystery of the situation made it impossible to resist.

"O-ok, I'll speak to you later…Bye…" Noting that the phone lingered in her hand for a brief moment before she slowly dropped the handset back to the table top, Sherlock closed what little distance there had been between him and the desk and handed the form back, "Thank you, Mr. Holmes. You'll be staying in accommodation block B" There was another pause as the woman rifled through a somewhat tattered folder of keycards, "secondfloor, room 21. Most of our students remain in the campus accommodation just for their first year, although you'll always find one or two who stay on a little longer," Answering with nothing but a nod again, Sherlock took the card and spun on his heel to leave the room. With just a hint of hesitation at the door, he turned back to face the main body of the office and focused his attention at the very same desk he'd just departed from.

"You're right. He's cheating on you"

"Wh-what?" So taken aback, the woman stood, allowing her chair to topple back in the process.

"Your boyfriend. You were right, he is cheating on you" Sherlock offered the smallest of smiles before turning his back and heading for the door once again.

"How could you possibly know that? I didn't ev-" With a slight creak and a click, Sherlock pulled the door to behind him, ultimately stopping the woman mid sentence.

"Making an impression already I see, Sherlock" Mycroft Holmes leant casually against the opposite wall, his arms folded neatly across his chest.

"Don't you have research or something to be doing?" Sherlock bit back with a small roll of his eyes, "I don't need you to check up on me every minute of the day" He added with a tone that held just the slightest hint of a threat.

"Not checking up. Just happened to be passing by and saw you harassing the poor woman" There was a short pause as Mycroft considered his next question, "How did you know that about her boyfriend, anyway?"

"I wasn't harassing her, Mycroft" Sherlock finally came to a halt, finding his brother much easier to converse with when he wasn't trailing along behind, "In fact, I said very little to her" There was a moment's silence as the elder Holmes brother watched the younger expectantly. With another roll of his eyes Sherlock drew his hands from where they'd been resting in his pockets and pinched the bridge of his nose, "She was clearly waiting for the phone call, first of all suggesting that the caller is someone she cares about and, furthermore, that it is a regular occurrence. She kept looking at the clock, implying that the call comes at the same time every day and she was waiting for it. But she kept biting her lip. She was nervous, probably because she's having doubts about the relationship"

Sherlock held up a finger as Mycroft attempted to interrupt; ready to ask how his younger brother even knew the person on the other line was the woman's boyfriend, "There was lipstick on her front teeth, so she'd clearly been worried about the call all morning. The voice on the other end of the phone was a young man – her boyfriend then judging by the way she spoke to him – so she's concerned that he's cheating on her" Sherlock stopped, looking almost smug as he arched a single eyebrow.

"How can you be so sure that the boyfriend is actually cheating if you didn't even hear his end of the conversation?" Sherlock scoffed as if the answer was obvious.

"He ended the conversation after only a few minutes on the line and Miss Natalie Turner was quite obviously expecting a much longer call. Not to mention that he called at 11:53. 5 minutes before their scheduled telephone time. No one would organize a scheduled telephone call for five to the hour. Therefore, he has blown Natalie off for another girl which, in other words, means he is a cheating bas-"

"Yes, you've proved your point Sherlock. Again" Mycroft sighed, disguising the fondness he felt for his brother with exasperation. Without another word, Sherlock turned away from his sibling and commenced his journey to the campus accommodation blocks, "Sherlock, just one more thing…" Sherlock slowed, turned, but continued to walk backwards, "Natalie Turner…You know her full name after just 15 minutes"

"Yes?" Sherlock frowned at the statement, not fully understanding it's point.

"Getting to know her already, then?" Mycroft's expression betrayed the true meaning of his words. It was a common fact amongst the Holmes family that Sherlock had shown very little interest to the opposite sex throughout his years as a teenager. In fact, he'd never once considered breaching the topic at all.

"She was wearing a name badge, Mycroft!" Sherlock retaliated with an impatient snort and strode from the university's main administration offices, leaving Mycroft in his wake.