It was eleven in the morning when John started his shift at the library. It was just a summer thing, making a little cash before heading off to uni. It wasn't his first choice of jobs, but it wasn't bad, if a little boring at times.

There was one thing, however, that made his day a little less boring. And that was a brooding young man named Sherlock Holmes.

Every other day, this tall, lanky boy would come in, browse for a bit, and then bring a small stack of strange books to the counter. He never said much, and the only reason John even knew his name was because of his library card.

It was one of the days that he expected to see Sherlock, which put him in a good mood as he logged into his computer at the checkout station. A few people were milling around, looking at books or leafing through magazines. Sherlock wasn't there yet.

It was nearly half past noon when Sherlock came though the door. Even though it was summer, the boy was incredibly pale, his skin was almost like porcelain. He wore a deep olive long sleeve shirt and dark jeans.

John watched as he dumped his books in the book return and headed for the thriller section. He wasn't sure what exactly drew him to this strange young man, but nonetheless, there was a pull, almost magnetic, that drew his eyes to Sherlock as he walked around, looking at his books.

"Ahem." John was startled out of his daydream to see a middle aged woman waiting impatiently for him to check out her books. "Ah, yes, sorry. Library card please."

It was almost an hour before Sherlock brought his books up to the counter. John took note of the titles and said nervously, "So, you're into forensics and crime?"

The young man's eyes regarded John curiously. "Yes."

"I think that's really cool."

Sherlock seemed torn between walking away and staying. Finally, with a huff of breath, he set his books on the counter again and looked at John. "I know you want to talk to me."

John was startled. "Huh?"

"I can tell by the way you're looking at me, your feeble attempt at small talk, and the posture of your body. You've been wanting to talk to me. Well, here I am."

"Um…" it took him a minute to process what Sherlock had just said. "Well, what year are you?"

"Graduated already."

"Me too, where from?"

"Yale."

John's eyes widened. "Wait…how old are you? I could've sworn you were about my age."

"I'm seventeen."

"And you already graduated from Yale?"

Sherlock smirked. "I'm somewhat of a genius, if you will."

"Yeah, figured."

For a moment, the two boys stood in silence, analyzing the other. John said abruptly, "Would you want to hang out after I get off work?"

Sherlock seemed taken aback by John's forwardness. "I, uh, ok."

John sighed. "I get off at two."

"That's in an hour. Where do you want to meet?"

"Do you know that shop on Baker Street? It's a little tea shop."

"Yes, I know where that is."

"Alright, is that alright?"

Sherlock scooped his books off the counter. "Yes. I'll be there."

John watched as he turned and walked out the door. He felt a mixture of feelings about the fact that they were meeting for tea in an hour. Was he asking him on a date? Did Sherlock think it was a date? What were they going to talk about?

John spent the next hour pacing behind the counter and trying to think of things to talk about with Sherlock. When it came time for him to go, he grabbed his jacket and dashed out with barely a goodbye to the head librarian.

Sherlock was sitting in a corner booth when he got there. John slid into the chair in front of him and smiled. "You already have your tea?" He nodded at the steaming cup in Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock didn't respond. John felt himself blush. "Right, then, I'll go get mine."

A moment later, John sat back down with his cup. "So, I see you in the library almost every other day." He paused, and Sherlock watched him, waiting for him to continue. "So, do you want to go into a field of criminology? I've noticed a lot of the books you check out have to do with forensics and stuff."

"I want to be a consulting detective."

"I've never heard of that job before."

"You wouldn't, I'm going to be the first one." He smirked, a slight air of arrogance around him. Surprisingly, it didn't annoy John as much as he expected it to. "So, what exactly would you do?"

That seemed to be the right question. Sherlock's eyes lit up and he started talking about all the things he would do, how he would dissect the crime scene and actually see, instead of just looking. John was rather intrigued, and didn't mind the fact that he couldn't get a single word in.

Sherlock's phone buzzing on the table startled him out of his ramble, and he looked at it, annoyed. "My brother says I am needed at home."

John nodded. "Well, I'll see you at the library in a few days."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. Goodbye, John."

Two days later, John was standing at the counter, helping a young girl check out her books when Sherlock came in. He nodded at John and dropped his books into the book return. When the little girl was all set, Sherlock came up to the counter. John set a couple books in front of him. "I found these, I didn't know if you'd be interested in them or not."

Sherlock looked over the covers carefully. "I've read these two, but this one I haven't."

"I can hold it up here until you're ready to check out."

He nodded. "Thank you." And with that, he turned and headed into the non fiction section, leaving John to his thoughts.

There were a couple people ahead of him when Sherlock came up to check out. He waited rather impatiently, tapping his foot and looking repeatedly at the clock. When it was finally his turn, he set his books down and immediately said, "You get off in an hour, correct?"

John glanced at the clock. "Yes."

"Shall we meet at the tea shop again?"

John smiled. "I would like that."

And so it became routine, every other day Sherlock would come in, get new books, and when John got off work, they would meet at the tea shop and discuss John's plans to be a doctor, Sherlock's plans to be a consulting detective, and anything else that came to mind. By the end of July, they were close friends, and John wasn't sure how Sherlock hadn't read every book in the library, as often as he came in.

Sherlock was the one who brought up the topic of school. "You leave for uni in a month, correct?"

"Yes."

He sat for a moment, thinking. "You'll be back for breaks?"

"Of course."

This seemed to please Sherlock; he immediately perked back up. "Alright." The conversation turned back to whether or not people could live without a liver.

The summer came to a close, and John was sad to be leaving his job at the library, and consequently, Sherlock, behind. On their last tea date, as John had fondly referred to them in his mind, Sherlock said, "You must tell me when you'll be back, I do enjoy having tea with you."

"I definitely will. Its fun, talking with you."

Sherlock gave him a small smile, something that John learned did not happen often. He returned the smile and glanced at the clock. "I really should be heading home. I have a bit more packing to do."

"You have my email address, correct?"

John nodded. "I promise to give you a complete rundown of any experiments we do in med school."

Sherlock nodded. He stood up as John did, and followed him out onto the street. "Well, I'll see you for the holidays."

"See you, mate."

They headed their separate ways down the road.

Nearing the end of his grad year at med school, John checked his email. As expected, there was one from Sherlock. The two of them had kept up a regular correspondence over the years, and had grown incredibly close as friends. He clicked on the email.

John,

I know you are planning on going into the army, but I have a proposition for you. There is a flat on Baker Street, just down from our old tea shop, that is available for rent. I know the landlady, she is a wonderful women. We could be flatmates. When you go into the army, I can keep the place for us, so you have a place when you come home. Tell me what you think.

Sherlock.

John smiled to himself. Sharing a flat with Sherlock. Wouldn't that be fun? He typed back a quick response. Sure, I think that's a wonderful idea. He clicked send and shut his laptop. "Well, at least my life will never be boring." He laughed and stood up to finish packing his dorm room.

Fin.