2. Shy

Sherlock aged 6
John aged 6-7

'Sherlock, be nice. This is John. You'll be his buddy for the day. Okay? Now, he's new so you can help him to settle in and make friends. Yes, Sherlock?'

Sherlock nodded, albeit a little reluctantly, at the school-lady. Why did she always talk in that pathetic whiny tone? It had grown quickly irritating even within the first few moments of meeting her last month.

Now there was another newbie. He was slightly older than Sherlock, and the dark-haired boy could tell they did not have the same personalities. Not at all.
He looked over the boy, short, blonde-hair, blue eyes, roundish face, wearing an oversized cable-knit jumper and wringing a teddy's paw in his hands nervously.

'My name's Sherlock.' Sherlock said plainly.

'I'm John.'

'Yes, I know that. She told me.'

John went silent. Sherlock's bright eyes narrowed and he tried to make sense of the newbie's face.

'What's your last name?' He asked after a while.

'...Watson.' John mumbled quietly.

'John Watson.' Sherlock tested the name on his tongue and, deciding it fit, grabbed John's wrist and pulled. 'C'mon, I'll show you the soft corner.'

John stayed silent as he let the curly-haired boy pull him.

'Here. Those are the beanbags we can sit on and these are books and puzzles we can play with. Most of the books have been scribbled in and the puzzles have pieces missing, I don't play with either. They bore me too quickly. But you can play with them if you like.' Sherlock picked up a puzzle with dogs on it and thrust it in John's direction.

John looked up at the boy before taking the box and looking at it intently.

'Well? Aren't you going to say anything?' Sherlock quipped.

John frowned slightly up at Sherlock.

'...Do you not talk much all the time or is this a recent development?'

'What?' John asked. The strange, bright-eyed boy kept using long words and it confused him.

'How old are you?' Sherlock asked suddenly.

'Nearly 6.'

'I'm nearly 7.'

'Oh...'

'You're younger than me.'

John simply nodded and put the puzzle down on a small table with crayons on it.

'Are you always this shy?' Sherlock asked and frowned at the light-haired boy.

John nodded again, not really knowing what Sherlock meant.

'Aren't you going to ask me my name?'

John frowned. 'Why?'

'Well, a few minutes ago you told me yours. It's only natural for you to ask me the same. Go on. Ask me what my name is. I bet you can't guess it.'

'Sherlock.' John said simply.

'Well, yes. You heard the school-lady call me that. What about my last name?'

'What is your last name?'

'No, John Watson! Guess!'

John winced as the taller boy shouted and a few heads turned but no one else spoke. The blonde swallowed and looked back at Sherlock to find him staring down intently.

'Um...Smith?'

'Sherlock Smith? Hardly. Guess again.'

'I...I don't know any others.' John looked away and wrung his hands tighter around his teddy's arm.

'Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. There's an 'L' in it.' Sherlock said proudly. 'If you think it's weird then my brother's is weirder.'

John's eyebrows knotted into another tight little frown. 'What's that?'

'He's called Mycwoft. Myc-... Ugh. Mycwo... MyROFT! Mycroft.' Sherlock always struggled with his older brother's name.

'Mycroft Holmes.' John worked out. Sherlock flashed him a look of annoyance at his ease at pronouncing R's in the middle of words.

'Yes.'

'Oh.' John swallowed. 'That is weird.'

Silence fell between them again.

'Will you stop it?' Sherlock suddenly proclaimed and John jumped, startled.

'Stop what?' He asked, confused.

'Being so shy all the time! It's annoying.'

'Oh...sorry. But I...I don't know how to stop. I just am.' John defended himself with occasional stutters.

'Then I'll make it my job to stop it. Being shy is boring and dull. And I don't want my friend to be boring and dull.' Sherlock crossed his arms.

'I'm your...your friend?' John was shocked. He'd never been a friend before.

'Yes. You are. And think yourself lucky.' Sherlock looked at him. 'You're my only one.' He said before marching out of the soft corner and out of sight.

John nodded and twisted the teddy's arm in his fingers for the third time since meeting the strange Sherlock Holmes.