Nope, Sherlock is not mine. But isn't that a little obvious? I don't know why I'm even bothering to write a disclaimer…
Prologue
Sherlock was still fuming 20 minutes later as he entered the relatively empty tube carriage, closely followed by John, who, sighing, took a seat. Sherlock flumped down next to him and huffed loudly.
The two had just returned from a rather unsuccessful meeting with a police informant whom one of lestrad's men had deemed trustworthy. It turned out however, that the information the man had to offer could just as well have been found in a tabloid newspaper. Sherlock was not happy, especially after having been kicked out of a cab for shouting and breaking one of the fold-down seats.
John looked around for a while and then picked up an abandoned newspaper from the seat opposite, anticipating a long journey home.
Sherlock settled down to people watch. A pimple strewn youth sat opposite them, headphones in his ears and hood up, heavy-metal fan, smoker, large short- hair dog, overprotective mother. Woman standing in entrance, office-worker, financial problems, two children under five. This was boring. Far end of carriage, three girls about 12 years of age, uniforms, skirts pulled up high, loose ties, obviously from an estate, non-achievers. Other girl sitting by entrance, roughly same age, size 3 ½ feet, reading German book, neat but weathered uniform, angry, or worried? Sherlock couldn't quite place it. Man, aged roughly 37, works on a building site, anxious, bitten nails. The train stops. Office-worker and builder get out. Old lady with expensive gold earrings enters and sits down, eyes pimpled youth suspiciously, clutches handbag. Sherlock starts staring at Size3 ½ girl. Girl stares back. Chav girls start towards other girl. Snatches book. Throws book on floor.
"Wotcha readin shit face?" the other two sniggered at the remark
The girl picks up the book and continues reading.
"Oi I'm talkin to ya"
"Don't waste your vocabulary on me; I know you're saving it for a special day." The girl didn't look up from her book and her voice had taken on a very matter of fact tone. John lowered his newspaper.
It seemed the girl needed some time to comprehend this remark, after a few seconds though she seemed to have gotten her wits together. "Don't get moufy wiv me freak"
Freak, he didn't like that word. Sherlock got up from his seat at the same time as the girl did. She eyed him angrily as if telling him to mind his own business. Then the girl rounded on the group of three. "So, Chantelle how are those ballet lessons going lately? Your posture reveals all. Let me guess, finally reached grade two? Mind, the very thought of you in a pink tutu makes me want to vomit. Alisha, I'm so sorry about your breakup with Ryan. I heard about him cheating on you with Tracy. Oh hang on, weren't the others meant to know about that? Oops sorry about that. I imagine your mates won't be at all happy to hear that you've been lying to them for-what- 3 weeks? And not to forget, Charice. Hey those stains on your shirt collar, is that today's cannelloni? A little embarrassing don't you think? Although I suppose you're mum's a bit preoccupied having affairs and doesn't have the time to teach her daughter the adequate table manners. Are your puny brains really under the impression that you can intimidate me using such feeble means as chav talk? Sorry to disappoint you but you'll have to put a little more work into it. Tell you what, since you three are so used to taking the easy way, why don't you bully someone with the same sad little brain capacity as you. How about a reception student. Second thoughts, even their small, underdeveloped minds will be able to see through the tough girl façade and realize that deep down; the three of you are nothing more than tracksuit-sporting idiots." The girl looked very pleased with herself, until her brain registered the fist flying towards her face. She ducked.
Sherlock, having seen enough came to stand behind the girl, closely followed by John. The train slowed as it pulled into the next station.
"Out," growled John. The three girls fled, leaving the other girl to glower at John and Sherlock.
"There was no need to intervene; I was completely capable of handling the situation."
"Oh yes, we both saw that clearly." Remarked John sarcastically. Sherlock had sat back down, his expression, once again, utterly bored.
The girl got out at the next station.
"Care kid." noted Sherlock.