The footprints that were left in the sandbox looked fresh. Sherlock's favorite thing to do when his dad took him to the park was make theories about what he had seen. One time he saw a bee flying slower than a normal bee, so Sherlock figured that it was a male worker who was tired from searching for pollen. Winter had lasted too long and most of the flowers were barely in bloom.

Sherlock's dad was engrossed in the morning paper. He was only a few yards away from Sherlock. The footprints that Sherlock was looking at were from a kid about his age, he was sure of it. And this kid wore sneakers and was drinking juice. The small container was left unattended. Sherlock picked it up and sipped. Grape. Just like he thought.

"Hey! That's mine," a voice cried out.

The voice belonged to a blond haired boy a little bit shorter than Sherlock. The boy was rushing over with a pail and shovel. Sherlock frowned at him.

"You left it alone. You should know better."

The boy glared but said nothing else. Instead, he sat down on the sand and scooped up some of it. He placed the sand in the pail. Sherlock sneered.

"Your mom bought you that shirt, didn't she?"

The boy stopped short and his face flushed.

"What? What do you mean?"

"It says Mommy's Little Boy."

Sherlock noticed the boy looking at him in awe.

"You can read?"

"Yes," Sherlock said offhandedly.

Mycroft had insisted on reading to him ever since he was one. After a short while his older brother had taught him how to read and Sherlock had caught on very quickly.

The boy grinned.

"That's neat! You're neat!"

Sherlock had intended to embarrass the boy. He had not been expecting the compliment. The dark-haired boy gaped at him.

"Really? You really think so?"

"Yeah. My name's John. What's yours?"

Could this possibly be a potential friend? Sherlock never had one before. He would spend some time with Mycroft but Mycroft didn't count since he was his brother.

"I'm Sherlock."

He sat down next to John. The blond haired boy offered a genuine smile.

"Wanna' play on the swings?"

That actually sounded like fun, thought Sherlock. Sherlock agreed and the two went to the swings for toddlers.

Later Sherlock's dad would be astounded to find his youngest son playing with another child.