"Joan Watson." Principal Lestrade looked at her over the top of her square glasses. Georgia Lestrade was good at her job. She had been doing it for over a decade. The kids came and went, however, and just as soon as she made progress with one batch, they were replaced by a new crowd of defiant hooligans. Joan sat in the chair opposite hers, her mousy-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She adjusted a loose strand behind her ear. Rather short and of average build, Joan didn't look the type to cause trouble. She was certainly smaller than her opponents during lunch break. But there was no denying that she had started the fight.

Joan held Principal Lestrade's gaze silently.

"First day at a new school. Has to be a challenge." Principal Lestrade tried again. Joan shrugged, licking her lips nervously.

"Why did you punch Sal Donovan in the face?" Lestrade tried a more direct approach.

"He made fun of a girl for being a lesbian." Joan said defiantly, raising her eyebrows, as though daring the principal to say something against lesbians as well.

"Oh?"

Joan just nodded and shrugged again.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you in detention. " said principal Lestrade. Violence is never the answer. What Sal said was certainly wrong, but it does not give you the right to punch him. Do you understand?"

Joan nodded.

"Alright, Mr. Hudson will be overseeing detention today. Room B221. You're to stay until 5. I've already called your parents."

Another nod.

"Off you go," Principal Lestrade sighed. This job wasn't getting any easier.


Room B221 was empty but for the lanky, pale girl with short black hair, who had been the object of ridicule earlier at lunch. She was scribbling furiously in her notebook, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration. She made no sign of acknowledging Joan's presence.

"Excuse me." Joan said. "Where is the teacher, Mr. Hudson?"

The pale girl lifted brilliant blue-green eyes in her direction. "Gone."

Joan waited for a moment, but when no information came, she ventured on. "Gone where? Isn't he supposed to supervise us?"

"Well," the girl dropped her pen and stood up, leaning against the desk. "He said he was going to take some aspirin for his hip, but he actually snuck out behind the gym for a smoke. Judging from the fact that he had his flask with him, I assume he will be staying for at least two cigarettes. More likely three. When he comes back, he will fall asleep at his desk. Usually does. You must be Joan Watson, the new kid."

She didn't seem to need to stop for breath, and kept rattling off information like a computer.

"Aggressive. Switching schools mid-year. Probably got kicked out for fighting at your old school. Already in trouble here, I see. Why? Why would you pick a fight with Sal Donovan? Not that I don't think about punching him all the time, but he is bigger than you. Obviously stronger. So he must have said something personal. Except he was talking about me, I heard him call me a lesbian. Sister? Did she come out recently? Is that why you fought at your old school?" She gave Joan a half-smile and bit her bottom lip.

"How did you -?" Joan stared at the taller girl incredulously. "Did you just figure all that out? That's brilliant!"

"It is your sister then?"

"No." Joan smiled. "Brother."

Sherlock's face scrunched up for a moment.

"Damnit," she said, sitting back down and continuing to write in her notebook, though not as intently as before.

"Are you?" Joan asked awkwardly. "Not that it matters." She added quickly.

"Am I what?" Sherlock said without looking up.

"A lesbian."

"Mmmm… not really my area." She said.

The door opened, and Mr. Hudson straggled in, carrying a distinct whiff of peppermint with him. "Oh Sherlock, you've made a friend, how nice. But I really need you both to sit quietly for the rest of detention." He settled comfortably into the chair in the front of the room and picked up the newspaper.

As Sherlock predicted, Mr. Hudson was asleep within a few minutes. Joan found herself suddenly excited at the prospect of making friends with this, undoubtedly strange, girl. "Why are you here?" she whispered nervously.

"They think I killed Howard." Sherlock replied with a wave of her hand. Then, noticing the perplexed expression on Joan's face, she added, "The school mascot. Howard the Hedgehog."

"I didn't!" she continued when Joan raised her eyebrows at Sherlock. "I mean, yes, I've done a few experiments on him, but I have never hurt him. I'm very careful. Jill Moriarty framed me." She scowled.

Joan waited for a few moments, but Sherlock was once again engrossed in her erratic scribble in her notebook, and Joan allowed herself to space out until 5 o'clock.