A/N: Hello people! This is my first fanfiction (unless you count the last chapter of a story I wrote which accidentally turned into a fic). It's just a little one-shot that came to me when I decided to start Sherlock-analysing myself (try it, it's actually quite interesting). Please R&R.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters apart from the girl and her bright green hoodie. The other characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and this version is based on the BBC Sherlock, created by The Moff and his team.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You said that you looked up everything you could about me before we met. Prove it. Prove that 'nobody could be that clever'." John said as he and Sherlock walked through the park a few days after Sherlock supposedly come back from the dead. John was still feeling slightly bitter about having his best friend trick him into believing he was dead for three years.

"John" Sherlock started, about to try to apologise again, but John interrupted him.

"Pick anybody in the park and tell me about them." John instructed as they sat down on a bench. Sherlock said nothing. "Ok then, I'll pick someone for you." John looked around. "Her, the one with the bright green Leaver's Hoodie."

"What's a Leaver's Hoodie?" Sherlock asked.

"Do you really not know what …" John stopped when he saw the look on Sherlock's face. "Ok, right. Deleted it. It's a hoodie that school kids get in their last year of school. The number is the year they left, and the writing is a personalised message. That person got 'Not a Muggle' written on her hoodie." John chuckled.

"What does that mean?" Sherlock was obviously baffled.

"Don't tell me. Harry Potter; you deleted it?" John chuckled again as Sherlock thought for a moment, and then nodded. John proceeded with the explanation. "A Muggle is what witches and wizards call non-magical people. So she's implying that"

"She's a witch." Sherlock finished, launching into a massive, quick-fire analogy of the test subject. "Obviously a big fan then, why else would someone like her have that put on her hoodie? I say someone like her because she is obviously aware of how others perceive her and makes attempts fit in with social norms, but loves Harry Potter too much to care completely. Why is she making attempts to fit in? Wrong question. How? How is she making attempts to fit in? You see her eyebrows? They're quite frankly huge and ugly, but there are signs that she has tried to take care of them, although she can't be bothered to make a tremendous effort. Also, the hoodie. Bright green. Definitely not the current fashion. She's wearing it with clashing jeans. Doesn't care about fashion, or too much about what others think of her. Obviously fairly happy with her looks but gets self-conscious at times. Understandable, she's 15. Why 15? Hoodie says 12. Left this year. She's too young to be Year 13 and Year 12's are back at school. Why not 16? She could be, but I overheard her earlier talking about her birthday which is next week.

"She's obsessive. Her nails John. She has one long nail. The rest are either cut short or bitten. She has a habit of biting her nails, but she stopped biting them as much as she used too, although she has recently started biting them again. Probably the stress of exams. But why does that make her obsessive? The hoodie again John. Why else would someone get a message like that on a hoodie? Obviously a huge fan, more likely an obsessive one. Having a habit backs up the latter theory.

"Let's see. She's interested in musical theatre. Look at the book she's got out in front of her. It's a music revision guide. When she opened it she was talking and didn't pay attention to the page she opened it on. It naturally fell open the musical theatre page. And there's also the Phantom mask and the Les Misérables flag she's wearing as lapel pins on her hoodie. I'd say she's probably an obsessive musical theatre fan as well. Not normal for a teenager to be as interested in musical theatre as she obviously is." Sherlock paused, letting John take in what he had just rattled off at twice the rate of normal human speech. "Is that enough or do you want me to carry on?"

"That's quite enough thanks." John replied, a small smile finding it's way onto the doctor's face for the first time in a long while.

"And what was that designed to achieve?" Sherlock questioned.

"It proved that I was right. You were lying about being a fraud. And also, I've missed your high-speed deductions. God Sherlock, you have no idea how hard life was without you. Promise me you'll never leave me like that again."

Sherlock looked John in the eyes. "I promise. It was hard for me as well. I missed you, Lestrade, even Anderson at times. It was boring not being able to insult his stupidity."

John laughed. "Don't worry. Between Lestrade and I we managed to insult him at least twice a week. And you were absolutely right you know."

"About what?"

"That girl. She's my cousin-once-removed, or something along those lines. Didn't know about her for a while."

Sherlock smiled slightly. "So that was kind of a test? Did you set it up?"

"No. I didn't know she would be here today."

John's smile was slightly faded and had a sad aura about it.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said after a silent pause.

John practically jumped. "What?"

"You look really sad. I must have caused you a lot of pain. I don't know how to handle this now, feelings as such."

John sighed. "Oh Sherlock. Of course I'm sad. My best friend died for three years after telling me he was a complete fake. Just, let's leave it for now. At least you're not dead. Let's think about that."

Sherlock simply nodded in agreement, sitting calmly on the park bench next to John, not wanting to mention how bored he was because he didn't want to hurt John again. So he just stared out into the park. That is, until he got a text from Lestrade calling them both down to the Yard. It definitely looked like Sherlock was back for good.