A/N: Hello everyone!
This is the first Sherlock story that I've written, and I'm partnering with the lovely Serenie on fanfic, so I hope you guys like it. We've had this written for the longest time, we just didn't upload it until now. This is obviously in an AU where they all know each other as teens, but we hope you like it regardless! Hope you enjoy!
"How absolutely stupid," remarked the 13-year old, curly haired boy with a disgruntled look upon his face. He straightened his uncomfortable London school uniform. "Who actually likes these sort of things?"
"It's only a dance, Sherlock," mused the 14-year old blonde, carrying his lunch tray as he walked along side the malcontent boy. "It is Valentine's Day tomorrow, so it would make sense."
"No it wouldn't," Sherlock Holmes scowled, as he patted down his messy dark hair. "Why would one want to put themselves in a situation where you must make physical contact with another person who probably has no idea what personal hygiene is? Especially in this school. Everyone's stupid and disgusting."
A slight frown appeared on John Watson's lips as he raised an eyebrow at his companion. "Everyone?"
Sherlock looked up, looking passive. "Oh no, don't look so offended. You're slightly better than the other idiots at this school."
John rolled his eyes as the pair entered the cafeteria. "So you really don't like anyone? Anyone at all?"
Sherlock snorted. "Of course not."
"Of course," muttered John as the two approached an empty, rectangular table. "Because you're much too good for any of the girls here," he said, sarcastically as he took a seat on the bench.
Sherlock took a seat next to him. "Yes, I agree." The young boy looked up and rolled his eyes. "She's coming. Again."
The duo had just barely sat down when a rather skittish redhead neared them with a happy attitude.
"Hello, boys!" greeted the redhead, with an expression that was much too happy for Sherlock's liking. "Mind if I sit with you two?"
Molly Hooper was a sweet girl, really. Her reddish-brown hair was always pulled back in a ponytail. She was quite awkward by all definitions of the word, not to mention quite shy, but Sherlock just found her irritating at times. Her bubbly but awkward attitude must've been what made him so annoyed by her.
"Yes, we mind," replied Sherlock, curtly. At the same time, the older boy had already replied. "No, of course not. Sit down, Molly."
Molly looked slightly discouraged as she sat across from the two boys setting her light pink lunch box on the table, giving the two a bright, yet slightly forced smile. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned noticeably more towards John.
"So," she started, rather awkwardly. "Are you two going to the Valentine's Day Dance tomorrow?"
"No. It's stupid," he retorted, without even looking at Molly.
John glared at the his companion, answering with a false bright tone. "Yes, we will both be going."
"You can't make me." Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
"Yes I can."
"Ah-"
"Hush Molly. No you can't, John."
"Want a bet?"
"Yes."
"Boys-"
"Fine. I can't. But I know who can."
"Hey-"
"Shut up, Hooper. Who?"
"Ok," squeaked Molly, sitting quietly.
"You don't need me to tell you, do you, Sherlock?"
"Mycroft wouldn't care."
"I was referring to your mother."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Ah, so!" interrupted Molly, with a nervous, but cheery tone. "Sherlock, where's your lunch? Aren't you hungry?"
"I don't eat much. You've asked that before."
"Yes, but it's important that you should eat be-"
"If this is your idea of small talk, it's pathetic. Small talk really isn't your area, Molly," Sherlock said, shooting her down.
Molly nodded, her smile fading. "Ah, I've been told."
"No, Sherlock didn't mean –" started John, shooting his friend a well-deserved glare.
"No, it's alright," Molly nodded, forcing a smile.
"Yes, John, look. It's alright," Sherlock said, indifferently.
"Um, John, may I talk to you?" asked Molly, smiling brightly, though her eyes looked like they were tearing up.
"Yes, let's hear what you have to say," Sherlock closed his hands together, placing them onto the table, looking at her indifferently.
"She meant in private, you idiot." John rolled his eyes, already standing up. Molly stood up with him, avoiding Sherlock's gaze.
The condescending boy "harrumph!"ed in frustration as he eyed the two talking. Curiosity burned through him. That feeling was familiar. After all, to be a detective, one had to be observant and curious. What made him feel slightly uncomfortable was the other feeling that was rising in his chest. Something he hadn't experienced before. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, and he wondered what it could be. Jealousy? Ridiculous. Sherlock Holmes had no reason to be jealous of anyone. He was far superior to all of the other children in the London school. John was the closest when it came to intellect, though even John was as unobservant as the rest.
Though, Sherlock had to admit, he did want to know what Molly Hooper and John Watson were talking about. They were always talking about something, and whenever Sherlock asked, John would just smirk and brush off his question.
Suddenly a thought popped into Sherlock's mind. John and Molly went off and talked for a considerable amount of time a lot lately. Isn't that what couples did when they dated?
When Sherlock observed couples he had seen around his secondary school, they seemed to spend a lot of time talking to each other, and Molly Hooper did seem to be spending more time around John than she used to.
Sherlock snorted. Dating was so silly. Affection holds you back. Having a girlfriend or a boyfriend would just be a nuisance, having to be around them all the time.
But John and Molly Hooper? It just seemed so improbable. Even so, what other explanation could there be?
His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of John's voice, coming louder than he had expected it to be.
"Alright there?" asked John, noticing Sherlock's blank look.
Sherlock blinked a few times, snapping back into focus. "Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine."
Sherlock scooted his chair closer to John as two more figures approached their table.
"Hello John!" called a disgustingly sweet, high-pitched voice. A girl and boy approached their table. Sherlock rolled his eyes again, looking irritated.
"John, there's more people at our table. Why do people keep coming to our table?" he muttered, looking disgruntled again.
The girl, Elise Furman, was a slim, long curly haired blonde girl, who Sherlock found much too peppy for his liking. She always wore strong perfume that made Sherlock want to gag. She was obnoxiously loud and she hung too closely around John. She was worse than Molly Hooper was by far. She gave Sherlock a sideways glance but otherwise ignored him.
Her twin brother, James Furman, was, in Sherlock's opinion, tolerable. He was much more relaxed, and he didn't speak much, which he found to be rather good. People who talked irritated him. Usually, if people talked, it was stupidity spewing out of their mouths, contaminating the room.
"Hello, Elise," replied John, while taking a bite out of his sandwich. Her smile grew a bit wider.
"Have you heard about the Valentine's Dance?" asked Elise, squeezing onto the bench between John and Sherlock and set her lunch box right next John's tray.
This action aggravated Sherlock immensely, but what was he to do?
Her brother, on the other hand, took a seat next to Molly, giving her a sweet smile and a nod.
"Yes he has." Sherlock replied, annoyed by the hyper girl. She completely ignored him, looking at John expectantly.
"Er…yeah, I have." John answered, noticing her unsubtle closeness to him. He moved over on the bench to try to distance himself from her, though to no avail.
"You going to the dance with anybody?" she asked, draping her arm around his left shoulder, using her free hand to open her lunch box and pull out a cup of homemade custard.
Sherlock groaned with boredom. "Dear God. Why is it always the same que-"
"No, I haven't found a date yet," John quickly replied, covering up Sherlock's remark with his own. Sherlock crossed his arms on the table, putting his head down on his arms, crossing his legs. Elise turned her piercing blue eyes towards Molly and gave her a clearly forced smile.
"You won't be going to the dance I suppose." Her voice was sickeningly sweet.
"Actually, I will be," said Molly, while trying to sit a little higher in her chair.
Elise raised an eyebrow. "Will you actually be going with somebody?"
"Well maybe, if I can get the chance to actually ask h-"
"So no," finished Elise, quickly.
Whatever work Molly put into sitting higher in her chair and keeping a strong look diminished with that statement. "O-okay…I suppose you could say that…"
"So you haven't gotten a date yet?" asked James, speaking for the first time. "That's a pity."
Molly's cheeks reddened a bit, and her smile returned bashfully. "O-Oh, I don't really mind it."
Sherlock blew out air and he got up, stepping out of his seat. John looked up, confused.
"Where are you going?" asked John, watching his best friend stand up. Sherlock circled onto the other side of his only friend.
"I'll leave you happy couples to yourselves then. Cheers." He said, sarcastically as he picked up John's pudding cup from his tray.
"I was going eat that you know!" shouted John, with a bit of annoyance towards Sherlock's receding back.
Sherlock turned around, looking surprised. "Oh? Were you?" he asked, pulling off the top. He smirked slightly before turning his back on the group, walking away.
Molly sat awkwardly across from John, her knit sweater that was a little too big for her matching the color of her hair. "Is he alright?"
John rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he picked up his package of crisps, opening it. "He's fine, but he owes me a pudding cup."
Molly placed a bag of cookies on his tray, with a soft smile. "Have these for now then. I made extras and I was hoping to share them with you or…" She looked around awkwardly before continuing. "…Sherlock, but you're welcome to them."
John smiled at her, opening the bag. "Thanks, Molly. I appreciate it."
Elise Furman gritted her teeth and stood up, walking away from their lunch table, with her brother following closely after. Neither John nor Molly noticed, both being immersed in a conversation about Sherlock's crazy habits. People around the cafeteria would notice and wonder to themselves, "when did Watson and Hooper get together?", shrug their shoulders, and continue on with their lives, without giving it a second thought.
Someone else, however, wasn't pleased about this.
Not pleased at all.
A/N: How was it?
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Thanks!