A/N: Hey! This is just a stupid thing I wrote cause it was my friends b-day and I didn't know what to give her. I'm horrible at keeping in character so excuse my lameness and argh… just hope you guys enjoy. Please leave me you thoughts
Sherlock Holmes was never a very social person, he had more fingers in a hand than he had of friends, but he wasn't exactly unhappy with his situation, after all it's better to have few friends that you can trust than have many and not know who you can trust.
Sherlock's only friend was Greg Lestrade, and they had known each other since childhood. One could also say his brother was his friend, but his reply would continuously be an insulted gasp and a tediously long explanation as to why Mycroft wasn't considered a friend.
Anyway thanks to having Greg in his life, Sherlock never really saw a reason as to why he had to more friends. They had been classmates all through grade 1 to grade 9. Sherlock, you see, had been born with a great gift, his intelligence was outstanding for any kid his age, so to his great despair, one day the school had been tired of seeing such a great mind go to waste and so got him a scholarship to a prestigious school.
To say he was unhappy would be an understatement, for it went well beyond unhappiness, but since his family wasn't exactly ok in the finances department they quickly accepted such a wonderful opportunity and despite Sherlock's immature whines they still had him go to said school, telling him it was about time he made new friends.
So after all this it leads us to the present, where a brooding teen stood in front of his new school gates. 'Hetalia High' was what the big letters read.
Sherlock heaved a heavy sigh, blowing his black locks from his eyes. He had been dreading this day for a very long time. He didn't see what the difference was if he attended a private or public school, either way the teachers would turn out to be just as incompetent. The only difference was that; one was for the economically limited people and the other was for snobby stuck up people. But this segregation didn't matter to Sherlock either would judge him for his intellect or for his impressive deductive skills.
The light autumn breeze rustled his sloppy uniform. He hadn't bothered with following proper dress code, it's not like he cared really, and he would consider it an honor if he got expelled right on the first day.
He was brought back from his thoughts as a harsh shove made him stumble on his feet.
"Get out of the middle of the entrance you fucking emo!" The loud yell of what was unmistakably an American accent shouted to him.
Sherlock slowly lifted his gaze to study the obnoxious freak. His dark gaze; studying, and absorbing the sad excuse, and waste of oxygen of a human being. 'Messy hair, sky blue eyes, bags under his eyes due to lack of sleep, unmistakably using makeup to hide obvious bruising in his face. Probably got into a brawl at home, probably drunkard father, clearly glass shard cuts on his hand and just on his hairline. Ironed uniform, smell of aftershave and pancakes support the idea it was a domestic brawl. Speaks loud so people will talk notice of him because clearly he has issues of no affection as a child... that's enough to prove my point that he's not worth my time, I'll just be giving him the attention he craves.' Sherlock enlisted the reasons he shouldn't even bother, but by now the people who had been making their way to school had all stopped to see who had angered the school's golden boy. 'URGH, annoying start to the day' Sherlock internally complained to himself. Heaving a sigh, he broke eye contact; he hadn't even realized he was making with the dirty blonde male. Without saying a word Sherlock ignored the lame remark and walked towards the school building.
Now his brother had once told him never to turn his back on a foe, and for the first time Sherlock was willing to say his brother was right.
In a swift movement the big oaf had reached to grab the collar of Sherlock's dress shirt. Just as he was turned to face the blonde again, a fist collided to his face.
In normal cases most guys would've been able to counter such a blow; he had left himself too open while making that swing. But this wasn't most guys, this was Sherlock we are talking about, he never saw the need to come to the same level as that of a brute gorilla and so never really cared much to learn about combat or self-defense.
Stumbling to find his ground, Sherlock wobbled back a bit, but refused to fall down; he was too prideful for that. Now with a sour mood and aching cheekbone, Sherlock recomposed himself and dusted his uniform, and quipped a snarky remark.
"Got all the anger bottled up from last night all out?" Sherlock hit him with a dark glare that no one could rival.
The tall blonde's blue eyes widened for a split second and his body language became tense and nervous. One would easily miss the change in demeanor, but as once stated Sherlock wasn't just anyone.
A significant crowd had gathered by now, all curious as to see who would defy the golden boy. The silence was deafening, leaving only the rustle of the fallen leaves to fill it, and the tension palpable. No one dared to intervene.
"Alright, what's going on here?" Except, for maybe one teen. All heads turned to see the short teen with mousey brown hair come into scene.
Sherlock and the blonde still hadn't broken eye contact, and Sherlock sure as hell wasn't going to be the first to break it.
The intervening teen clasped a hand on the blondes broad shoulder, and despite him having a good height advantage to the shorter one, he seemed to cower under it and broke eye contact with Sherlock in favor of looking at smart and strict brown eyes.
With a content smirk Sherlock decided it was his turn to examine the new arrival, and upon making eye contact to said intruder, Sherlock was left breathless. Yes, how sappy, but to Sherlock he had no idea what to make of this new feeling overtaking him. This small man in front of him was beautiful, and yes he knew people shouldn't call men beautiful, but there really was no other way to describe him.
He was short, that was easy to say, and where Sherlock easily reached 1.86m and this man was give or take 1.69. He had roundish features that gave him a boyish charm. He had tawny brown hair, on the brink of being blonde but not quite there either, it was cut to a neat almost nerdy style. He had a cute button nose, and his eyes... Oh his eyes, they were a light brown freckled with green, they held so much wisdom, happiness, friendliness, a bit of mischief, and if Sherlock wasn't mistaken, sadness. He wore his uniform in such a sharp yet graceful way that Sherlock now wished he had actually given 2 fucks on how presentable he was... wait... what was that thought just now? What did he care what the brown eyed beauty thought? It's not like he cared. And what did it matter that the other's skin looked so soft and did he just say something to... me?
Cool demeanor now lost, Sherlock found that he had been staring at the other boy for way to long. Damn it, he was gawking at another boy what the fuck was wrong with him? 'I just got fucking side-tracked again for fuck sake! Reply you sodding idiot! You're weird enough as is!' Sherlock scolded himself and under self-pressure a very intelligent-like, "Huh?'' was his reply. 'Great Sherlock! Now please compose yourself.' He mentally slapped himself. 'How stupid can you be? Jeez... Oh great now you're talking to yourself everyone is staring at you and he just spoke to you... AND YOU DIDN'T HEAR HIM AGAIN! Great I am now the schools idiot... God I hate private schools...' His mental screaming had finally ceased.
Sherlock just stood there staring at the beauty before him, and after a few long seconds he tried again. Now with a clear head, "I-I'm sorry could you repeat that?" Had the almighty Sherlock just stuttered? Why yes, yes he had and he managed to make a fool of himself, for now the surrounding teens were laughing, but it wasn't theirs that caught his attention, it was the beaut's laughter that had him enthralled. It was enchanting! Dazzling even!
The laughter soon died down, and the short man before him wiped at his eyes, "I said; Hi my name is John Watson, please excuse Anthony's behavior, are you ok?" his voice was like freshly squeezed honey to him, sweet and strong but it was also calming and soothing all thanks to that typical London accent, though it wasn't as accentuated as Sherlock's.
"Yea... yea just peachy..." was the only reply Sherlock could muster up and now that he was reminded his right cheek was actually kind of sore and had a constant throb. He placed hand on his cheek and hissed at the sting. 'Great he cut my cheek...'
"As his senior, let me apologize for his behavior again. Are you new?"
"It's quite alright, and yes, just transferred."
"Oh! So you're the fabled Sherlock Holmes? The one who skipped 2 years ahead and entered with a perfect score huh? The teachers won't shut up about you!" gasps and whispers were shared amongst the crowd, and the blonde named Anthony widened his eyes in shock. Sherlock merely limited himself to looking down to his feet.
Yes, it was true that even though he was supposed to be initiating his 10 grade, the school had him advance 2 years because he passed both the 10 and I grade entrance exams, so now he was a senior. Despite his achievement being amazing and unheard of, Sherlock didn't exactly feel happy about it and felt no need at all to brag.
"Yes, I'm that guy..."his previous embarrassed mood gone sour now.
As if sensing the others discomfort, John tried to ease the mood by reaching his hand in front for a handshake and with the most charming of smiles that always had girls swooning over he said, "Were then Sherlock, pleasure to meet you. Since you'll be in my grade, how about I show you around?"
Sherlock looked up at the small yet calloused hand held up in front of him. Never had anyone, other than Greg, shown him this kindness. Sherlock simply wasn't used to being shown such heart-warming friendliness. Normally people would avoid him like the plague because of his dark and shady look and cause of his naturally cold aura. So for such a sunshine filled person to invite him to be friends were something he didn't even phantom to be possible. Without a moment's hesitation he clasped the small, warm hand in his cold and bony one, "I'll be in your care then." And no matter how small it was Sherlock felt a very small smile grave his lips.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"ARGH! That pop quiz was quite a struggle, don't you think so?" John complained with a cute pout on his thin lips. "I mean who the hell gives a quiz, when we just had a test yesterday anyway?"
"Come now John, that quiz was hardly a challenge at all; for what it's worth I think Mr Deiter was mocking us." The dark haired genius scoffed.
A whole term had flown by since Sherlock's flashy first day, and quickly he had gotten used to how the school was run and he was also able to adapt very quickly to the more advanced classes that should've been challenging for any normal 15 year old. He also was quick to make a strong friendship with the short man beside him, John. Even though Sherlock had to admit that classes were more challenging in a private school he still came to the quick conclusion that all his teachers were just as incompetent as his previous ones. The same was applied to his classmates, who all hated him. you see in his introduction Sherlock felt the need to use his amazing deductive skills on a delinquent who thought it would be fun to ruin Sherlock's first day, after receiving the usual remarks of 'freak' and 'weirdo' he was astounded that in the crowd an 'amazing' was uttered by non-other than John, an interested look was shot at him by a girl who was called Irene Adler, and a round of applause by a weird kid named Jim Moriarty. But either way all his classmates were idiots and blind to obvious day-to-day actions and whatnot… all except for John who excelled in biology, English and was quite good in chemistry, there was also Irene Adler who not only did good in all subjects, mind you nowhere as good as Sherlock himself, and was scarily perceptive and last but not least was Jim Moriarty, this guy was almost at the same level of intellect as Sherlock, keyword being almost, and to which he became Sherlock's enemy. Sherlock hated how he played and manipulated his mind, never successfully though to which they had a very subtle but violent hate towards each other.
"Says the personification of genius! Nothing the teachers throw at you is hard apparently." John sighed.
"John they're challenging at best."Was Sherlock's answer. Sherlock wasn't very good at keeping a conversation alive try as he might, so he would always content himself in maintaining a comfortable silence when he would be walking down the halls with Lestrade. But John would let that happen, he seemed to despise silence, and he didn't mistake Sherlock's silence as a sign of a dismiss of some sort, so he kept the chatter going by telling stories and mindless banter and from time to time being successful in coaxing out replies from the taller.
John kept the small chat going, talking something about how he wanted to save lives or something like that, he had a bright smile on his lips and happy gleam in his eyes always looking up to see the others expressions and reactions, when John made these kind of faces and expressions Sherlock could always feel his heart stop for a second or two even though he knew it's not physically possible, and his stomach would flutter as if being caressed by butterflies.
They made their way down the now empty halls towards the exit, Sherlock had accepted to tutor John in math because said brunette was in risk of failing at it.
"Oh, did you see 's face when Ander- AH!" John's animated talking stopped abruptly to let out a loud and very 'masculine' shout as he slipped on one first step of the stairs. This was one of those instances people would say 'It all happened so fast!' cause in a fast and swift movement, Sherlock at seeing his friend fall with a bad ending to it, quickly grabbed John's arm and roughly pulled John towards himself, successfully losing his balance. John was brought harshly against a boney chest only to feel himself fall again only this time in the other direction to the safety on the floor, but instead of falling on the cold hard floor he landed right on top of the dark haired male.
It took Sherlock a while to gain his bearings and when he did, he was greeted to the pleasant sight of Avery red-faced John looking down at him from his chest. Unfortunately, Sherlock not being used to human interaction quickly misjudged the red face as anger and not embarrassment.
"Are you ok?" Sherlock asked in the most concerned voice John had ever heard, but given to the very compromising position he was in (right between Sherlock's legs if you must know) he quickly got up and put some distance between him and the other.
''I-I'm quite alright... Sorry... I mean thank you..."John stuttered nervously and cleared his throat. "Didn't see where I was going.''
An awkward silence followed John's apology, but it didn't have much time to make itself comfortable for Mary Morstan appeared. "Oh, John! Here you are! I've been looking for you all over! You promised to walk me home today." Mary exclaimed with a cute pout on her lips, her tone in an overly sweet tone, completely ignoring Sherlock's presence.
"Hello to you too, Mary." Sherlock mumbled softly to no one in a venomous tone.
It was safe to say Sherlock didn't like Mary, and clearly the feeling was mutual. She was a cute girl, long curly sandy blonde hair that was always tied up in a messy bun. Her skin was rosy and flawless, no signs of being manhandled by puberty. She had big green eyes that could out shine the sun, though they always seemed to lose their charming gleam whenever directed at Sherlock, this was probably due to the fact that oh they first day they met Sherlock announced to the whole school that she had a crush on John. This was no surprise to anyone but John because it was glaringly obvious, then again she shouldn't have tried to take John from Sherlock. She was short and small chested and she transpired delicacy and innocence, but to a keen eye such as Sherlock's she was anything but delicate and innocent.
She turned her acid green eyes to Sherlock and with a strained Smile she bowed her head in acknowledgement to Sherlock's presence. 'God she has annoyingly sharp hearing.' Sherlock thought to himself with a fake smile of his own.
"OMG! I'm so sorry I had forgotten. Sherlock do you mind?" John looked ashamed for having let down Mary again it was the 3rd time that week he had let her down.
"Not at all, what kind of a man would you be to not walk her home and give her false hope in getting a shot with you?'' Sherlock stated monotonously as to hide the turmoil of emotions going on inside him.
To this he earned a glare from Mary and a slap to the back of his head from John. "Sherlock we have talked about this before, please let it drop... Anyway I'll see you tomorrow ok? Oh and thank you for catching me, and sorry for my carelessness." And with that said, Mary and him walked down the stairs talking about how a man shouldn't forget a promise to a girl.
"Argh, so annoying and useless...'' Sherlock voiced his thoughts aloud.
"My my, are you jealous perhaps Mr. Holmes?" A deep, seductive voice called from behind Sherlock.
"And the devil makes an appearance. How long have you been eavesdropping?"
"A lady doesn't eavesdrop my dear. I just happen to be walking by and accidentally overheard is all." Sherlock could hear the smirk that was on her lips.
"So tell me Irene, how long were you 'overhearing'?" Sherlock slowly turned to face said girl, and just as he had predicted a small, all knowing smirk was plastered on her thin lips that were colored a stunning red, making her pale skin and dark hair contrast, giving her an ethereal beauty Her thin arms were crossed over her chest. Her uniform was neat but was rather inappropriate, for her skirt was way above her knees showing off her longlegs, and her shirt had the first two buttons undone, giving everyone a great shot of her cleavage.
"Now let's just say long enough. I'm quite disappointed in you; I thought you didn't follow anyone's orders... then again Mr. Watson isn't just anyone, am I wrong?" Irene started to make her way towards Sherlock, slowly and gracefully, 'like a cat' thought Sherlock.
"What are you implying?"
"Oh dear...'' She gave a pitying look, 'for the schools genius you are very dense." Irene stood now in front of Sherlock with no shame for having invaded his personal space.
"This conversation clearly has no interest so if you don't mind it'll be taking my leave..." there was a small pause as Sherlock considered his choice of words.
"Are you really so blind to your own feelings?"
"I don't own such useless items, as they say, I own no heart. Now better thought even if you mind I'll be taking my leave. "Briskly Sherlock turned on his heels and started to descend the stairs, but as he was about to turn the corner Irene's voice carried out in a playful tone.
"Just don't take too long in snatching John, he might give up hope soon."
Caught off guard with those words Sherlock turned to look at her, to demand what she meant but alas, he was met with shadows, no trace of Irene having ever been there. 'And they say I'm the weird one...'
