Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC adaptation of Sherlock, Arthur Conan Doyle, Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Mark Gatiss and not even Steven Moffat. If I did, the whole world would praise me for making Johnlock become real.

Like a squirrel Molly started rattling about this and that, the latest news in fashion, gossip or whatever else there was roaming the St. Bartholomew school. Apparently the hottest gossip at the moment was that a boy had dyed his hair pink and anyone who called themselves cool were wondering if the boy was gay and picking on him to as it seemed 'clear the school of faggots'. Sherlock wasn't one of them. And he wasn't amused or happy either.

All he had wanted was to get into the school-lab and now he was stuck here with this insane girl, who was giving him her best braced smile. Absolutely sickening.

"And then this one boy, Greg was his name, I think, he said that-"

"Yes all very interesting, Molly." Which came out as a snarl."Could you please show me the lab one single time before my stupid class-trip abides?"

"Yes, well. If you say so-"she said, chastising herself. "Pretty upfront for a newbie, eh?"

"May be." Sherlock said, stepping into the lab as if it was his kingdom. "Finally" He let out a long breath.

"What do you want in here anyway?"

"Oh, just checking on things, this and that."

"Well, as much as I have gathered from you, you aren't really a 'this and that' man, are ya?"

"No."

"Tell me about it. More."

"I just have to-" He sighed, he couldn't do this. "No!"

"Why not? What is there to lose?"

My dignity. "Oh nothing, could you just, uh leave?"

"What?" She spit out. "No, I'm not going to leave- and that especially not now, thank you very much."

Ah god, who was this girl? It was bad enough that Sherlock had to remember her name at the minute; he would have to delete that. But the air of daftness that surrounded this woman was almost as thick as a wall.

"Okay, Molly: out. I need some me-time, mind-palace, okay?"

By the time Molly replied, she was already out of the door and there was no trace of the strange, new boy left. The only thing she could hear was the sound of keys turning in the door. Superb.

The rain was streaming down the windows of their coach while a happy song filled the yet empty seats with music. The atmosphere was buzzing and John was holding hands with his girlfriend, Lisa. Drop-dead gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful Lisa. Nothing and no one could compare.

A bit of her hair loosened out of her bun and flattered her face, her every move guided by a brown, soft, perfect string of hair. Lisa smiled at him, her wicked smile that she knew he loved so much. Her eyes twinkled with a warm glow. She made him fall more in love with her every second.

Suddenly their bus made another halt and stood still at another stop to pick up a few other students. Every stop was interesting to John as he then was introduced to the students of his new class, which he had maybe only ever seen once before and if so only curtly.

They could have all met in the classes, but nobody came around there anyway. It was the first week and all they did was preparing for their school-trip, hello? He had better things to do. And the others seemed to as well.

John mustered his fellow students from his seat, not really welcoming the outcome. There was Bill, who everyone just knew as the rowdy of the school and who was probably one of the most disagreeable students of all. Then there was Kristen, the one with the tons of make-up and the faked smile. And to sum it up there was Justin, whose name said everything about him.

But afterwards there came another one, a boy. His tall and lanky figure over towered everyone else's, but looking at his immersed composure, he seemed to be the smallest of them all.

He swiftly, but quietly sank into his seat, not saying one word. A simple' hello' would have done the job. John sighed. This guy was hopeless.

Who was he anyway? He had never seen or heard from him before and as everyone was talking about everyone; his name would have fallen at least once or twice. However nothing about the boy made something in his mind come close to a 'Eureka' moment. A newbie? Possibly.

John was fascinated but he didn't know what to think about him. Well, they should see to that later.

Sherlock fell into his seat not even trying to look at the other's faces. He would become acquainted with them soon enough. More probably their fists. He cringed inwardly.

Sherlock had given up on social interactions a long time ago, since he was a little child, actually. The others had never really liked the gangly, pale boy and when he started to rattle off his deductions in want of impressing them, his anti-popularity only got worse. And so his social standard went from already bad to inferior.

This place wouldn't be any better either, but Mycroft had insisted that he come here and at least give it a try. It would be hell on earth.

Sherlock heard a muttered sigh in the seat after his, most likely due to his social incompetence. Let them sigh, he didn't mind. They would be familiar with his face soon enough.

The aching boy closed his eyes, which dulled his headache at least a bit. Lying there, he tried not to think of yesterday, the day before or any other day in the past. His father had really done his homework.

Maybe he could find some sleep, one single time. Away from home, his parents far, far gone. Maybe he could. Maybe. He-

The bus was now full and there were no stops to be made except the occasional break for certain needs, including the loo and the consumption of food. This was one of these stops, but Sherlock didn't even think about those options. He may not have eaten something for quite some time, but if he ate, he would need to see the toilet. And in toilets some people may feel the urge of social interaction. This was not at all in his desire.

He never left his seat and the only thing he did to keep himself occupied was staring out of the window and blinking. Very interesting. But he had a whole lot to think about.

"Uhm... are you ok there?" A voice called from his left.

He didn't move an inch.

"Oh, it's just that I- well, I didn't even see you breathe; you looked a little bit, dead? "

"That's because I am." He replied, not honouring his conversational partner with one glance. "If I were you, I'd better stay away from me. It wouldn't essentially do you good to be seen with me."

"What do you mean with that?"

"Oh, you will see soon enough." Sherlock said, his mind focusing on its old task once again.

"I'm John by the way."

Sherlock sighed and averted his eyes to the figure that just didn't want to give up. What he saw was quite astonishing.

A muscular frame stood on the floor of the coach, accompanied by golden, sandy hair and a face to growl. If there was a heaven, this John would be an angel. He shook his head; he knew he wouldn't ever stand a chance. And what had happened to being asexual?

And alas, this boy already had a girlfriend, as it seemed. The lip-stick traces were too evident. Nothing ever worked out, did it?

"You wouldn't want to know my name."

"Well, actually I would. Is it so terrible?" John laughed.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes."

John's ringing laughter could be heard throughout the whole bus. Sherlock shouldn't get his hopes up; John was just like everyone else.

The only thing that this strange Sherlock-kid did after was looking out of the window and nothing else. He didn't reply to, or even notice John's other failed attempts at speaking to him. This guy was just plain weird. He looked at you as if you were his prey and his eyes rapidly flickered from one thing to another, never stopping or relaxing for one second. It must be hell to be that guy.

But you had to say that he didn't look too bad for a man. He must be in every girl's dirty dreams, without that odd personality though. That would need a lot of accustoming to. But that voice...

God, what was he thinking? John shushed the little gay voice in his head and tried to concentrate on Lisa again. Good, old Lisa. She would never change.

Hallelujah! This was their last stop. They finally were at their destination.

Sherlock looked out of the window and waited for everyone else to take their leave, before he could leave this rotten bus. The scenery could be called beautiful by anyone, except for Sherlock. There was a little lake next to their huts in which the orange sky was glittering like an orange. Yuck!

The lake was complemented by a huge willow and other trees that spread out over the entire scenery .The hills in the back were in the perfect shape and covered in sheep. How boring.

Couldn't they have gone to another country? Even Scotland would have succeeded. But no, now they spent their time in another part of England, thrilling.

Eventually he would get out of this bus. But eventually took it's time.

John stepped out of the bus and had only one thought in mind: wow! This place was gorgeous. The same could sadly not be told about their assembly hall in which they would eat and exercise. It was just one block of building with no decorations, nothing. The place was strict and cold. Not to his taste.

There their class-tutor Mrs. Hudson soon clapped her hands together and let all the students get together. In next to no time she started to say out the names of the students, who by now became anxious. No surprise if you didn't know anyone.

John knew that he would most likely be sorted with Greg as they had been mates since forever.

"Bill, Tom and Linus please."

But he didn't know who his third mate would probably be.

"Liana, Kristen and Sonja."

Hopefully not Justin.

"Greg, John and... wait what is this?" Mrs. Hudson said, her bad eyes getting the better of her.

John would murder if it was that Justin-fella.

"Oh and Sherlock Holnes, apparently."

John tried to hold back a giggle. This Holmes had really sucked with that name.

Sherlock stepped into the group and teamed up with John and Greg. He looked absently away from them and into a corner of the room, the emptiest one of all. John wondered what he was thinking about.

"Holnes, is that right?" She asked.

"No, ACTUALLY it is Holmes." He snapped.

The class sniggered.

"Yes. There it commences." He muttered to himself, loud enough for John to hear.

This guy was the weirdest thing John had ever seen.

Which made him all the more exciting.