Chapter Two
John sat at his desk, staring at a page half covered in the scrawl of his own hand. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed deeply. Despite being undeniably intelligent, John was not really one for academia, and when it came to essays, well, there really was only so much excitement that the study of liver function could provide. Sometimes, John simply wanted more. His fingers ran through the same portion of fringe once more and he stretched, arching his back in his chair. He straightened up the photograph on the shelf above his desk and tapped his pencil aimlessly against the desktop. 4 pages, about another 3 to go; it was no good, it would have to wait. He lifted his pad and put it into the desk drawer, out of sight and out of mind. Checking the clock, he wondered where Mike would be – home by now probably. Lifting the room phone he called through to Mike's halls. No answer. In that case, he was likely in the library. John jumped up and took his black jacket from the hook behind the door and picked up his bag, removing from it the textbooks of the day to lighten the load and strew them over the spare bed in his room.
He turned to the door and went for the handle. In a split second he turned again, picked up the books and put them neatly on his shelf instead. Again, he went for the door and made a left along the corridor toward the stairs as it clicked and locked shut behind him.
As he approached the main door of the building he felt in his jacket pocket for his swipe card when a voice from reception stopped him.
"Watson? Room 2.21?" He stopped abruptly a little surprised by the stranger that knew his name and apparently also his address.
"Er, yes?" he craned his neck to see where the voice came from before turning the corner.
A pale boy with a mop of curly black hair stood at the security desk of the building. He was younger than him for sure but considerably taller. A first year, probably. His stance made him look even taller than he probably was as he towered over the small unassuming lady that ran the two residence buildings on North Gower Street. He didn't slouch like other students and his manner was much more refined.
"John Watson, isn't it?"
"Yes, yes. Why?"
"Good timing John" she turned to the other boy "See, I told you I remember everyone in here!" she turned back to John "This is Sherlock. He's moving into your room." the lady explained.
"Sherlock Holmes" the boy said softly, stepping forward and putting out his hand. His voice was – well – a bit posh, John thought.
"John. Watson."
"I thought you could show Sherlock up to your room, I do have to dash. A few new students arriving today."
"Sure… ok sure" The lady motioned for the boys to follow one another back up the stairs.
"Thank you, Mrs Hudson" Sherlock smiled, charmingly. He went to take his suitcase and John lifted one of the boxes he had stacked neatly waiting to take upstairs. It was heavy, full of files and folders, but John had more strength than one would assume for his height.
"A difficult essay is it? I assume you needed to go and get some air. Sorry we stopped you."
"Oh it's OK…what? How did you know I was writing an essay?"
"Is it this one?" Sherlock stopped outside the room with the small plaque - 2:21.
"Yep, try your card" John took them out of the envelope that Sherlock held. "That one-" he handed it to Sherlock "-is for this door, the other one is for the main doors when security has gone home".
"Oh… thank you" Sherlock placed the card into the slot by the handle, the green light blinked with an affirming click of the lock.
After the second lot of boxes had been brought up, (John thought this was a strange ratio of clothes to paperwork) Sherlock sat on the edge of the previously vacant bed and put his fingertips together under his chin, staring at the wall opposite.
"Sherlock?" John said feeling he was interrupting a moment of thought. "I'm going for a walk – make yourself at home I guess." Sherlock nodded appreciatively.
"How did you know about the essay? You never told me." John asked as he left, the half open drawer reminding him of Sherlock's comment.
"What else do students need to get away from?" Sherlock smiled.
"I guess." agreed John. This guy didn't seem too bad. He had hoped Mike would move into the vacant spot after his last roommate had flunked out, but there was something about Sherlock Holmes that made John think university might just be about to get a bit more interesting.
"I'm doing medicine" John added "Just, by the way"
"I know" replied Sherlock. "The books" he nodded to John's shelf in explanation as the other turned around and left to look for Mike.
John glanced back at the now closed door to his dorm room, shaking his head a little as he pushed the sleeves of his jumper up to his elbows. Feeling much lazier than usual, John risked the detour to the lifts deciding that just once he couldn't be bothered to take the stairs. He had never prided himself as being the lucky kind of guy. In fact, he'd almost grown used to things rarely going his way. Rounding the corner to the elevators simply proved to be case in point on the matter.
"Oh for-" John bit his tongue, holding back the curse he so wanted to let out. The 'out of order' sign was attached to the metallic doors at an angle. As if the scrawled paper note wasn't offensive enough, it hadn't even been hung straight. "Bloody sod's law…" John muttered to himself. Lips drawn tight and brow low over his eyes, the doctor's expression begged anyone to challenge him now. With a sigh and a turn, he trudged his way back to the stairs. Digging his hands deep into his trouser pockets, John turned to take the next flight of stairs, and narrowly missed being thwacked in the shoulder by the door it swung open from the other side
"Whoa! Jesus, will you watch where y-" John stopped, his words choking him slightly. He attempted frantically to reel them back as he met the eyes of the girl who had just burst through the doors.
"Oh, God! John, I'm so sorry! Did I hit you?" Sarah Morstan, swinging her shoulder back so it rested on her back, put her hand on John's shoulder, and bit her lip. Her fingers clung to the wool of his jumper, her nursing instincts clearly taking charge over any rational thought processes.
"No, no. Sarah, no, you're fine…" John's voice was an almost inaudible mumble, his eyes refusing to leave the floor at his feet. "You just startled me, is all…" He added, ashamed of himself for reacting so aggressively.
"Well…So long as I didn't hurt you" With a somewhat condescending pat on the arm, Sarah released her grip and brought her bag back to sit by her hip. She looked to John expectantly, waiting for him to continue the conversation. He didn't. "So, uh…Where are you off to in such a foul mood?"
"Oh! No, I…The lift, it…" John could feel his cheeks burning, the heat threatening to reach his ears, as he stumbled over his words, "I'm looking for Mike. You haven't seen him about, have you?" Sarah arched an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips – the lips that John couldn't help but look at as they parted to speak.
"On the first floor of an accommodation block that isn't is? No, can't help you there I'm afraid." John dropped his face into his palm, abashed by the small trill of laughter that followed Sarah's response.
"Of course…That was a stupid question…" He replied, although more to himself than the woman in front of him. Another awkward silence filled the stairway, both parties once again lost for words.
Sarah seemed to realize that the conversation wasn't going to go anywhere, and broke the silence with a cheerful "So…I'll see you around!" Her voice was just a little too enthusiastic for the situation.
"Huh? Oh! Yes! Yes…See you around…" John's voice hung in the air as he reluctantly drew his final words out. Watching as Sarah offered a friendly grin, he couldn't help but think how much grief Mike would give him if he didn't seize the moment. He'd wasted too many opportunities to do so again now.
"S-Sarah!" He stumbled to the top step, gripping the rubber-covered banister as he craned to catch Sarah's attention.
"John?" Her voice was heard before her face became visible again, peering up between the metal struts of the railings. Her face framed, John allowed himself a moment to study her expression.
"I, uh…Do you…" He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. It was now or never. "Do you want to go out sometime? For a coffee, or-"
"Sure. Yeah, that'd be great" The bluntness of the reply caught John off guard and he stood, dumbfounded, for perhaps a moment too long. "John?" Shaking himself from his reverie, John finally took the first few steps down to meet Sarah properly.
"S-sorry. Yes! That's, uh, that's brilliant! I'll…When would you…" Sarah laughed again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You have my number, right? Why don't you text me a place and a time and I'll let you know whether I can make it or not" John nodded, his jaw hanging open ever so slightly. Without another word, Sarah turned again and trotted down the remaining stairs until she reached the ground floor. John watched her as best he could, considering pinching himself to see if what had just happened was real. With a small jump and a large grin, he bounced back to the top of the flight before remembering his original destination, spinning, and stumbling excitedly to the ground floor too. What had originally been a trip to fill time was now a matter of urgency. He had to find Mike Stamford.