Blah blah blah. Honestly, what was even the point of this class? Sherlock Holmes sighed, slouched down in his desk, his head resting in the palm of his right hand while his left dangled off the edge of his desk. He'd known most of this stuff since he was nine! How on earth could it be considered learning, if he already knew it all? Ugh.

"Mr. Holmes, I do hope you're paying attention." The sharp voice of his biology teacher, Mrs. Sinclair intruded on his thoughts, and he straightened up slightly in his seat.

"Yes, of course, Professor." He said, waiting for her to nod and turn back towards the blackboard, before letting his body slouch once again. The girl in the seat behind him snickered and leaned over to tap his shoulder.

"Hey," She whispered, tapping his arm.

Sherlock ignored her.

She tapped more forcefully. "Hey," She began to poke him in the side, her long arms easily reaching across the gap that was between them. Sherlock sighed and turned around.

"What?" He huffed out, one of his dark eyebrows raised in question above his piercing blue-grey-green eyes. The girl smirked and shrugged.

"Nothing, was just being annoying." She said cheekily, pulling her phone out and leaning back in her seat.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned back around. "Oh, honestly Irene." He said, amusement in his voice. Irene Adler, the girl who sat behind him in his science class, had been his best friend ever since he began schooling here at Baker Street Academy. They had a lot in common; both loved learning but hated school. Both enjoyed running, but hated sports, both worked at the local bakery in town, and most importantly? Both despised everyone else.

Irene smirked and tapped her nails against her phone screen. "Gotta do something to relieve the boredom. This class is old news; it feels like we learn the same thing every year." She made a face and stood up just as the bell signaling the end of class rang out. "Come on, we have Chemistry next."

Sherlock sighed and stood up, shoving his books into his bag and slinging it carelessly over his shoulder. "Chemistry is no better than this class. In fact, it may even be worse; ever since McCain's wife divorced him, he's been a complete arse to me."

Irene began to laugh as she walked beside him. "He's only an arse to you because you were stupid enough to announce in front of the entire class that his wife had been cheating on him with his brother! Oh god," She stopped walking to double over with laughter. "What I wouldn't give to have a picture of his face when you said that! Priceless!" She smiled at him, and he smirked back.

"Glad you find it funny." He said dryly, stepping out of the center of the corridor, where a moving stream of people continued forwards. He walked to his locker and opened it, tossing his Biology books in and pulling his Chemistry books out. "Come on, or we're gonna be late."

Irene exchanged her books as well, shoving something else alongside them into her bag. Sherlock ignored her, assuming it was her phone, or maybe one of those girly magazines she was always reading, and continued on towards their classroom.

"Hey, Sherlock."

Sherlock turned to look at Molly Hooper, who more often than not was his science partner for various labs and experiments. She was dressed in the required goggles and lab coat and smiled at him as she sat in the seat beside him.

"Molly." He replied, nodding his head once before turning back to the microscope and glass slide in front of him.

"Do you want to do the examination, and I'll start on the write-up? And then we can do the dissection part later in the week, and divide it up then." She said, pulling a notebook out of her bag along with a pencil. Sherlock nodded again and Molly turned away from him to begin writing.

The worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, before Molly cleared her throat and asked softly, "Uhm, Sherlock?"

She received a grunt in response and continued on. "Can... can I ask you a question?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders once. "You just did, so clearly you are able. But yes, go ahead."

Molly smiled a little at the very Sherlockian answer, before a slightly nervous look crept back over her features. "Uh, do you know where Irene is? I wanted to ask her something." She fiddled with the pencil in her hand and her eyes looked downwards.

Her question caused Sherlock to look up from his microscope in confusion. "Molly, Irene is right over there, working with Jennifer-" He cut himself off when he realized that his friend was no longer in her assigned seat. Taking a quick glance around the room, he realized that she was nowhere to be found.

"Guess that's a no, then," Molly said, watching him as he looked around. His eyes swiveled to face her, and she blushed. "I mean; I guess you don't know where she is..." She trailed off. "Never mind." She mumbled under her breath, turning back to her notebook. She began scribbling furiously.

Sherlock stared at her for a moment and was about to ask why she wanted to talk to Irene in the first place when his phone buzzed softly in his bag. He reached down and picked it up, only to see that Irene had sent him a text. Clicking it open, he read

Hey, come out here for a moment, I
have something to show you.

-Irene

Sherlock furrowed his brows and stood up. Molly glanced up from her furious scribbling and asked, "Where are you going?"

"Loo," Sherlock said, before walking out of the room. He stepped out into the hall and immediately saw his best friend walking towards him, her phone in her left hand and a small plastic bucket in her right.

"Oh good, you came. Here," She said, before handing the bucket to him.

"A bucket," He said, looking down at where it rested in his hands. "Why on earth do you have a bucket?"

Irene's lips curled up in a slow smile. "You'll see," Was all she said, before leading him down the hall a bit. When they got to a small alcove, she stopped them and told him to put the bucket down onto the ground. He looked at her for a moment before shrugging and doing as she said.

Then, Irene reached into the alcove and pulled out a large container of pudding. Chocolate pudding. Sherlock's eyebrows rose. Interesting.