Sherlock sat on his bed, sitting quietly. It was his first day at Uni and he didn't know anybody. He had come in a semester late. He didn't even know his room mate. Only his name. James Moriarty. Sherlock sighed heavily. How would he find any of his classes?

'I might as well try and find the library.' Sherlock thought. He stood and brushed off his pants even thought there was nothing there.

Just as he was about to walk out the door, a guy threw it open, obviously drunk. Was this moriarty?

"Hey! Sh-erly! That's your name isn't it?" He slurred.

"Sherlock actually." Sherlock stated. "You must be Moriarty."

"Ding ding ding! We have a *Hiccup* winner!" Moriarty yelled as he sat down on his bunk.

"Listen buttercup, This half is mine. That half is yours. Don't even think about touching my stuff. It's probably more expensive than you can afford so stay away, capish?" Moriarty said, gesturing to his side.

Sherlock interrupted."I seriously doubt anything you have is even in the same league as my stuff."

"Oh really?" Moriarty stood and walked over to a basketball with a signature on it. "This ball was signed by American basketball star, Michael Jordan." He said smugly. "It's worth over 3,000 pounds."

Sherlock walked over to a box, pulled it open, and took out a cologne bottle. "This cologne is worth over 1,200 pounds an ounce. I have three more. And this is easily the cheapest thing I own if we're not counting shoes, which are Italian leather by the way. You say your...junk is worth more than my high quality items, I think you forget, my last name is Holmes. I'm probably the richest kid in this dung pile."

And with that, Sherlock set down the cologne and strode out of the room suppressing a giggle.

Moriarty was left with his mouth left hanging open.

The library was enormous. It was 3 stories tall and full of people. Noisy people. He found few good books and found a comfy chair in the back of the library to read.

All afternoon, he read about thermonuclear astrophysics and biochemically induced fission until he was interrupted.

"Excuse me." A voice from beyond the pages said.

Sherlock looked up from the book to a young boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. From the looks of his uniform, Sherlock could tell he was poor.

"Yes?" Sherlock said, unimpressed by the boy in front of him.

"Are you reading that book still?" The boy pointed to a book next to him.

Sherlock shook his head and returned to his book.

"Can I read it?" The boy asked.

Sherlock gave a grunt that resembled a yes. The blonde haired boy sat in the chair next to him.

"I'm John by the way. John Watson." He said. Looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock was stunned by John's openness. For a moment he didn't know what to say. Most people would see Sherlock and run the opposite direction. He looked slightly frightening with his long black hair hanging over his eyes, guages in his ears and snake bites in his lip. But this boy with clean cut hair and no piercings whatsoever just introduced himself to him.

"I-I'm Sherlock. Holmes." Sherlock stuttered.

John's eyes widened a little bit. "You're a Holmes boy?"

Sherlock's older brother, Mycroft went here before him so he had already had a reputation. Though, his brother and him were two very different people. Mycroft was much like John. Just...rounder.

Sherlock chuckled. "So you've heard about my family?"

"Hasn't everyone? I mean your brother was student body president for 2 years and-" Sherlock interrupted him. "I am nothing like my brother. If you think I'm a goody goody two shoes with lots of money, think again farm boy. My parents cut me out of the will. The only reason I'm going here is because I have grandfather rights. I'd rather be at home with my friends." Sherlock choked up at the last word. He really didn't have any friends but for some reason he didn't want John knowing that.

John frowned. "I wasn't really looking for someone like your brother. He was a snob. Just like everybody else here. I was looking for a friend who didn't want to compare everything they have with mine. Good day Mr. Holmes." John stood abruptly and began walking away. "And for the record, I'm not a farm boy. I've never seen a farm in my life." And with that, the nice blonde boy called John was gone.

Sherlock sighed. "You idiot." Sherlock mumbled to himself.