First of all, I'd like to thank those who have read, followed, and reviewed my first chapter. It's exciting. This is my first fic and I hope you all enjoy it. Also, I am not at all British, though I write it (including the spelling of words) to make it seem more authentic. I know the school systems are different across the Pond, but I don't know at all how they work. I also know nothing of science, so I try to research as I write. One last thing, I know there are a few mistakes, but those will be fixed later on.

Chapter 2

Later that night in the dormitories, Sherlock laid in bed thinking. Mother would be proud of him for making and initiating social contact. He couldn't understand why he talked to Molly... Ms. Molly Hooper. If that had been anyone else, he would have helped them with their books and been on his way. But, it had been Molly. Was he attracted to her? No, that's preposterous. However, Sherlock was in fact attracted to Molly in an intellectual way. Though their meeting was brief, she understood him somewhat. She is very intelligent, yet clumsy physically and socially.

Sherlock sighed to himself. He wasn't about to become distracted with her, but he wouldn't mind her friendship. Friendship, what a ridiculous thing.Sherlock considered the benefits of befriending the young student. She wasn't like the other party girls at uni, she was a studious person who endeavored something most women would never do: to become a pathologist. That was one reason, but there were many more. Molly, much to Sherlock's surprise was much like himself. She too, loved the mysteries of science. Sherlock began to fall asleep thinking about it.

d(^_^)b

Away in her dormitory, Molly Hooper was studying hard for her biology exam the next morning. She had almost forgotten about her encounter with Sherlock until she felt sleepy and in need of another coffee. Caffeine was Molly's lifeblood, and when she didn't have it, she was dead. Putting aside her lecture notes, she leaned back in her chair for a moment and raised her feet up on the desk. She contemplated the day. Had she never really notice Sherlock before? Hmm. Molly wasn't into dating (mostly due to a few bad experiences), because she didn't like the distraction. She thought Sherlock to be rather attractive, but she didn't feel like she had developed a crush on him. Strangely for Molly, crushes did not happen instantaneously like for the other girls at uni. She would acknowledge their features and be about her business. Molly's mother would often ask Molly if she was asexual, and Molly would always reply, "Mother! I like men, I just don't want them." Dating was not her area.

Molly didn't care if she would befriend Sherlock, her career was the most important thing to focus on, yet she wouldn't object if they did become friends.

Once Molly was done with her mental break, she decided to skip the coffee and go to bed. It was late and staying up later would not make studying any easier.

d(^_^)b

The next morning, Molly was up early and ready for her biology exam. She tied her hair back, pulled on navy blue jumper and slipped some black trousers. She also had a pair of red flats. Molly tried to dress up every now and then, but appearances weren't a concern for her. This day on the other hand, aesthetics give her a boost of confidence, which she will need for testing. After loading up her book bag, Molly was out the door on her way to biology.

d(^_^)b

When Sherlock woke up, he showered, got dressed, and went into his mind palace. He

hadn't been inside it for quite some time and now he needed to do some dusting and rearranging.

Inside, he gave every person he considered important or noteworthy a room, Mycroft's was the largest. Now, his mind palace was like an ordinary house, or palace for that matter. When he entered, he first stepped into the entry room, where he kept things on the forefront of his mind, things like notes or reminders. The entry room was just a quick, temporary space. Next was the great room, a place to shove newly learned information until later dealt with. On one side of the great room was the kitchen. That was where he mind feed off of ideas or when he needed to feed off of them. Sometimes he'd dig up a memory and relish it. On the other side of the great room was the study area. This is the area Sherlock would use to prepare for exams. The Mind Palace also had an upstairs, where all of the bedrooms and closets were, and an attic. The attic was for the people and memories he moved out of the bedrooms and left them to be forgotten about, but with the potential of coming up again later in life. In a sense, these people had become less important, so much so they don't get a room in the mind palace.

Of course, when there's an above, there's a below. Sherlock had a basement. The basement was for the things he intentionally wanted to forget or not deal with. It contained the darker things of his soul. However, below basement was the vault. Inside contained his emotions, fears, and deepest feelings. This is where he caged his soul and his demons. This wasn't the only purpose for the vault though, inside was also dirty information on people, like his brother for example, but he wouldn't ever use it.

*bzz! bzz!*

Sherlock was suddenly drawn out of his palace by the hum of his mobile.

Reminder: Phone Mother.

Sherlock sighed in lament. Of course he didn't need to set reminders, but he knew he would forget to ring mum. Whenever he would ring her, she would talk for centuries about the things her and father were doing. Sometimes it was about their vacation, sometimes it was their dance classes, and sometimes it was just to give Sherlock a hard time about his life choices. Recently, due to Sherlock's indecision of career, Mother was not so pleased with him. Father, on the other hand, couldn't care less.

For a few moments, Sherlock thought about mum, but knew he had anatomy soon and needed to get a move on. He would have to ring her later.

Once Sherlock arrived at class, he prepared himself for lecture. Lecture would be incredibly dull when the professor would talk about irrelevant things, but when on topic, Sherlock loved to soak in the information. What he loved more were the lab assignments; actually performing a dissection or experiment was always the most fun.

d(^_^)b

As midday approached, stomachs of the many Cambridge students growled. The lunch period was always hectic in the canteen where people were talking, stuffing their mouths, and getting up and sitting down. Sherlock never liked the canteen because it was too noisy and there were too many people. Yet, being amongst other people gave him a chance to observe and deduce them.

Deducing people was a trait that actually came from Mother. Though her skills were rudimentary, and less refined compared to Sherlock and Mycroft's, she had taught her boys to always be observant, especially of other people. Mother taught them to learn about other people, understand what and how they think.

So after the many years of refining his deduction skill, Sherlock applied it to the students of Cambridge everyday in the canteen for his own amusement.

The tall blonde is studying theatre, going by her flamboyancy. Her speech is dramatic, perhaps still in character from practice. Shakespeare?

The man with dark hair is studying economics and finance, telling by his wristwatch. A banker most likely. He certainly dresses the part, all suave and charismatic.

Looking around the canteen he saw another person who seemed familiar, yet her face was turned away from him.

In the food queue is a young woman with chestnut hair. She keeps it tied back, perhaps to keep it out of the way. She doesn't care too much for appearances due her clothes. They seem worn, meaning she isn't wealthy or doesn't shop often to keep up with fashion, but those clothes are dressier than she'd usually wear only going by the state of her composure, slightly graceless and not to impress. She doesn't dress for others, so it must be for herself. Just then she turned around with her tray of food. Molly?

As Sherlock observed her, he saw her sit down at a table away from a window by herself. It was a small table however, so she wasn't expecting company. Ah, he thought. Today was the day for her exam. She won't let herself become distracted. Her clothes are symbolic of her low self-esteem: feeling like she needs to dress well to do well. Wait, the way she's eating is normal, relaxed. She must've taken her exam already. Hmm.

Once lunchtime was over, campus began to settle down. Sherlock only had two more classes for the day: literature and chemistry. He now thought it best to phone mum on his way to class, that way he didn't have to talk to her for long and he could still check in on her.

*ring... ring*

"Sherlock! It's about time you've phoned your mother. I've been waiting hours to hear from you."

"Yes, mother. About that, I only have a small window of time to talk," he said walking towards his respected hall. "I was occupied earlier, so that's why I couldn't ring you up," he lied. "And I won't have time later because of an experiment I have for class," he lied again.

His mother sighed. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes, if you think for one second that I cannot tell that you're lying to me, then I don't know what I'm to do with you. Why is it so difficult to talk to your mother?"

"Mum, let's just move ahead. How are you and father?"

"You father is fine, he's taken up gardening now. Who knows what the man will do next. I, on the other hand am displeased that you don't phone me more often," she said exasperated.

Sherlock was almost to class already. "Well mother, I need to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Oh dear Sherlock, I really hope you mean that. I love you."

"Of course I do, mother. I love you too."

Once Sherlock had finished his weekly chat with his mother, he stepped inside and went to class.