"I suppose we've got to allow for human error."

The words echoed in Sherlock's mind as he stared down at the blinking cursor on his laptop screen, not typing anything.

"I suppose we've got to allow for human error."

The words had stayed in his head since John had reminded him of them a week ago, popping in involuntarily whenever Sherlock had a moment to himself.

"So, this is the guy you told me about? The one you dated?" She laughed harshly. She was the latest in a long line of Herculean woman Victor had started dating after Sherlock. It was like he was proving a point, dating the complete opposite of Sherlock just to slap him in the face. Always Herculean, always women.

"Yeah." Victor laughed, wrinkling his nose at Sherlock.

"Seems a bit unlikely." She commented, her laugh turning into a scoff. "I suppose we've got to allow for human error."

"Shit." Sherlock muttered, coursing his fingers through his head. This was getting him nowhere. He shut the laptop lid with a resigned sigh.

Ding!

Sherlock snatched up his phone, opening it to read the text.

John:

Hi! Do you want to meet up?

Sherlock pondered it for a minute, before typing out his reply.

Sherlock:

Sure. Where would you like to meet?

John:

Don't worry, the library will do.

Sherlock:

Okay.

John:

Great.

"Hey, Sherlock." John greeted, sidling up to Sherlock cheerfully.

"Hello, John." Sherlock nodded. Was a nod enough? Perhaps he should smile. Sherlock lifted the corners of his mouth, just in case.

"So, do you feel like eating, or…?" John prompted, twisting from side to side.

"Oh." Sherlock paused, thinking back. He remembered eating breakfast at some point, but that could easily have been yesterday. Maybe he should eat something. "I think I have room for something. What do you have in mind?"

"Cool," John beamed at him. "I know this really great frozen yogurt place, not far from here. Care to join me?"

"Okay." Sherlock agreed, hoping for a relaxed demeanour, but feeling like his excitement betrayed him.

They walked together, their arms brushing against each other with neither making an attempt to move away. It was nice, Sherlock could admit that much.

"So, I was thinking," John reinstated the conversation as if it had never left. "I know we haven't known each other for that long, but we are True Pairs and all that, so perhaps you wouldn't mind meeting my friends, maybe?" John cast a nervous glance in his direction, gauging his response.

"Oh."

"You don't have to! There's no pressure or anything." John laughed nervously, licking his lips. "It's just, we already have plans for the rest of the group to bring their pairs along to meet the group, and they all really want you to go. You don't have to! I just -I'd like it. Well, appreciate it. Even though you don-"

"I'll come." Sherlock decided, cutting off John's rambling.

"Oh. Okay!" John grinned, pressing his shoulder against Sherlock's in a new -yet strangely nice- sort of way.

"Oh. Hey, Sherlock!" Molly greeted, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, hello." Sherlock sat down on the bench beside her, shrugging off his laptop bag with a sigh.

"Are you okay? You seem a little…" Molly trailed off.

"I'm fine." Sherlock snapped before sighing at Molly's sympathetic face. "It's just. Well, have you met Mike's friends yet?"

"Actually, we were talking about that yesterday. We're gonna do it soon. Apparently, they're all going out for pizza and a couple of the guys who have pairs are bringing them along. Mike thought it'd be a good opportunity for me to get to know everyone. Just in case we… You know." Molly told him with an ending shrug.

"Yeah, well, John wants me to meet his friends soon, too.I just-" Sherlock sighed again, running his hands through his hair and pulling at it in frustration. "You know me, Molly, I'm awful at this stuff. What if I say something wrong? What if I mess it all up? What if," Sherlock gulped. "What if they just don't like me?"

"That sure is a whole bunch of what-if's." Molly commented, raising her eyebrows. "Why don't we just concentrate on what we do know."

"Anf whaff thash?" Sherlock mumbled into his hands, not really caring whether or not he was heard.

"John is your True Pair, Sherlock. Nothing can come between that! John likes you, and John's friends like John. They wouldn't do anything to hurt him, and by extension, you." Molly stated surely. "And you know what else?"

"Whaff?"

"If they do hurt you, they'll have me to answer to." Sherlock looked up from his hands to see Molly grinning wickedly, an evil glint in her eye.

"It's moment like these, Molly, that I'm reminded of why you're an Oddity." Sherlock stated allowing himself a small smile.

Molly smile in return. "It's all going to go fine, Sherlock."

"I hope you're right."

"No need to be nervous, Sherlock." John told him.

"Me, nervous? No, I'm not nervous, you're nervous." Sherlock's betraying tongue jabbered out. Really, he must get his body under control if it was going to continue doing nonsense things like that.

"Fine, fine." John relented. "I'm just saying, if you were nervous."

"Which I'm not." Sherlock reminded.

"Which you're not." John agreed. "But, if you were, I would just remind you that the likelihood of you being rejected by my friends is lower than you hating puppies." John assured him, nudging Sherlock with his shoulder.

"I was bitten by a dog once." Sherlock griped.

"That's a lie." John said, rolling his eyes.

"It is not!" Sherlock insisted, affronted by John's apathy.

"Sherlock, you told me last week about the neighbour's dog you used to play with and how much you wanted one yourself but couldn't 'cause of your mum's allergies."

"Oh." Sherlock blushed. "I… wasn't sure you were listening."

"Well, I was. Now, relax a second." John prompted, the two of them stopping among the foot traffic moving around them. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, hoping his silent why are we doing this? Would be correctly interpreted.

"Now, just breathe." John gave a long, deep breath in example. "And remember, everything is going to be o-"

"Sherlock! What are you doing here?!"

"-Kay." John finished his sentence and all the breath rushed out of Sherlock as he turned to see none other than Molly, Mike's arm linked with hers as they stood side-by-side.

"Is that John?" Molly gasped, staring at John in shock. "I can't believe it!" Molly squealed, her pitch reaching octaves only dogs could hear.

"Yes, this is John." Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes at Molly's carrying on. Rather unnecessary, in Sherlock's opinion. "John, this is Molly and her, uh," Sherlock struggled for moment before settling on "Friend, Mi-"

"Mike Stamford." John chuckled. "Sherlock, he's actually one of my good friends."

"Oh." Sherlock blinked, recalculating the situation. Mike knew John and Sherlock. Strange coincidence, perhaps? Perhaps Molly knew him too. No, she would've told Sherlock, surely. He hadn't told Mike John's name, only Molly.

"Uh, John, does this mean that Sherlock is the True Pair you told us about?" Mike asked, looking between Sherlock and John in confusion.

"Yep." John turned to smile at him, and it set something bubbling up in his chest, like his soul started shining just a touch brighter, sending a tiny, helpless smile on Sherlock's face. Sherlock couldn't imagine getting used to such a feeling for a very long time.

"Oh my God, are you smiling in a way that isn't sarcastic." Mike laughed and nudged Molly. "John's good for him, I think. You've got a keeper, the both of you. Don't you forget it." He told them sternly.

"Why would we forget…?" Sherlock asked in confusion, but Mike just shook his head with a laugh.

"So, you know Sherlock well, then?" John asked.

"Oh, we went to high school together." Mike said, his smile turning a touch sympathetic. Sherlock balled his hands into fists and breathed deeply. He hated that look. It was just a reminder of all the shit Sherlock's trying to forget, God dammit.

"Yep." Sherlock said, hoping the subject would pass, and breathing a sigh when it did.

"So are you guys ready for this?" Molly asked, shuffling nervously as her hands flutter by her side. "Because I don't think I am."

"I'm fine." Sherlock sniffed disparagingly.

"Or, so he says." John chirped, grinning cheekily when Sherlock turned his glare on him. "Don't worry, sugar," John laughed, "We'll be gentle."

Sherlock harrumphed and folded his arms, but the effect was kind of lessened when he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. "Let's just go. Now."

"Cool, it's just down here, John directed. The four of them walked down the street in a large group, John silently taking Sherlock's hand as if it was the simplest thing the world. And, perhaps, it was.

Sherlock's heart began to pound as he walked through the doors, stopping behind the other three in a valiant attempt not to be noticed. Sadly, as John and Mike were greeted with cheers and slaps, they began to disperse, leaving Sherlock exposed to the eyes of all of John's friends. There was quite a few of them, too. Mike chose that moment to introduce Molly to the large group, giving Sherlock a few seconds of reprieve to look everyone over.

Twelve of them sitting down, greeting Molly kindly. Four females, eight males. Six Herculeans, five Dociles, one Oddity. Law majors, business majors, teaching degrees, Undecideds, engineers, psychology majors, and more undecideds. All of them looking straight at him, Sherlock was sure of it, their eyes boring deep holes into Sherlock's skull, silently demanding why the hell he was here. Sherlock was lost for an answer. He didn't do well in these situations, surrounded by a group of people who all knew each other. He was the odd one out, the outsider, the sore thumb. He wasn't going to live up to expectations, they'll see it the moment he opens his mouth. God knows what will happen when he does that. He knows what happened when he lets facts slip from his mouth, tumbling over and over like a snowball, growing bigger and bigger until it crushed every single one of-

"...And this is Sherlock." John introduced, time continuing at perfect pace at the sound of his voice. Sherlock stepped closer to his side, still watching the group nervously, deliberating about what he should do with his hands. Should he be acting demure? John is the Herculean, Sherlock should probably act more like a Docile. Maybe that would impress John's Friends, make him seem worthy. Sherlock lowered his gaze and batted his eyelids, copying the movements his mother made when approaching new crowds. John looked at him funnily though, so Sherlock quickly stopped.

"It's great to meet you, Sherlock." A man stood up, shaking Sherlock's hand firmly. "I'm Bill Murray." Bill Murray had short cropped, platinum blonde hair with shaved patterns on the side, offsetting the warmth of his dark brown skin tone.

"Hello." Sherlock said quickly, shutting his mouth tight to prevent anything else slipping through. He could ruin this today, it was too important.

"Let me introduce everyone." John said, indicating around the group's table as he spoke. "There's Bill, of course, then Sebastian, Tom, James, Roger, Sam, Daze, Harold. And I suppose the rest are their pairs. I'm sure they'll introduce themselves" The group all greeted him, smiling.

"Come, sit here." Sherlock obliged, following John to the end of the end of the long table. He sat with John on one side and Molly on the other, flanking him like knights in shining armour.

"So, Sherlock." A man, Tom Sherlock thought, began. He had an old school jersey on, The name Dimmock branded on it in large white letters. "What are you studying?"

"Oh. Well, my main focus is in chemistry, but I also have an interest in anatomy and botany, as well as-"

"Oh, Tom, at least ask him something else." Bill groaned. "So, Sherlock, how did it happen? John's barely told us anything."

"John walked into my PSGM class." Sherlock answered. He'd already replayed it a thousand times in his mind. Eyes meeting across the room, the electric feeling coursing through his body, the sheer light pouring from their bodies like waves from the ocean.

"Oh, look at him, getting all dreamy." The girl next to Bill sighed, setting her chin in her freckled hands. "What I wouldn't give for a bond like that."

"Hey!" Bill protested.

"Hey yourself." She smirked, flicking a strand of her long, orange hair at him. Bill huffed indignantly.

"So Mike tells us you're an Oddity. A match made in heaven, he says." The man next to John said, waggling his eyebrows. Sebastian or something, the business major.

"Uh, yes, well," Molly squeaked, eyes dropping to the table nervously. "We can't be certain of that yet, but… here's hoping?" She searched Mike's face for confirmation, smiling happily when he nodded.

"How'bout you, Sherlock?" Bill asked. "John really has told us nothing. What's your SG?*"

Sherlock paused. He hated this question. He could just take the answer away and hide, never letting anyone see him as he was. Oddity is just a polite word for freak.

"He's an Oddity." John had gone ahead and answered for him, like nothing was amiss with that comment. Sherlock looked around the table. Everyone seemed fine with it. Perhaps there was nothing to wor-

"What? An Oddity?" Sebastian let out a mocking laugh, the force of it prickling up the hair on the back of Sherlock's neck. "You can't be serious."

There was a moment where the whole table was silent, tension palpable in the air as all the sectioned off conversations stopped. Sherlock studied his shoes miserably. He should have known better than to expect anything good from John's friends. Sherlock didn't deserve it. To think that he'd tried so hard. God, he should've known better.

"Sebastian?" A voice growled out. Sherlock looked up, expecting to see John, angry face in place. Instead, he was met with a group of them, the rest of John's friends glaring daggers at Sebastian.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bill asked, fists clenched on the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry if you think there's something wrong with wanting a little better for John. I mean, he's a Herculean, for Christ's sake. He's not an oddity, like Mike. He needs someone who'll submit, not someone who'll parade around, pretending like he's just as good as us." Sebastian snarled.

"Get out." Bill groundout.

"W-what?"

"I said, get the hell out. If that's what you really think about Oddities, well, we don't want you here." Bill told him firmly, folding his arms with an air of finality.

"Fine." Sebastian stood, turned and left, muttering obscenities until the sound of the door swinging shut cut them off.

Sherlock glanced towards Mike and Molly, who looked on with a mixture of shock and disgust. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and turned his head to see John looking at him concernedly.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Fine." Sherlock replied faintly. He could barely process what had just happened. Had John's friends just… Defended him? Why? What could they have possibly gained from that? It didn't make any sense.

"'Kay. Well, let's order."

"Fine." Sherlock repeated. This couldn't be happening, this casual passing over of such a profound incident. Sherlock's heart was beating wildly and when he looked over the table, he felt like he was looking through smoke. "I'm just going to… I just need to use the bathroom for a moment." Sherlock rose and made a beeline for the Oddity bathrooms, not looking back. He didn't really need to, seeing John's friends' faces in his mind as clear as day, a mixture of shock and pity. And worst of all, John's. What the hell was he going to think?

Sherlock shook his head, pushing through the door and standing in front of the mirror. He cupped his hands under the tap, filling them with water, before he brought them up to his face, dragging them across his skin and letting the water slide down with them.

Blinking the water from his eyelashes, he looked back up into the mirror with a sigh. Then he froze.

"John?" He whispered, turning around to face him.

"Sherlock." John nodded in greeting. "Look, Sherlock, I'm really sorry about what happened out there. Just… What can I do to help this? What? Please."

"W- I…" Sherlock's voice cracked and he was forced to lower his eyes.

"What?" John insisted. Sherlock couldn't find the strength to reply. "Sherlock, I'm sorry, truly sorry. I had no idea why he would-"

"When I was-" Sherlock started, his voice quiet and ragged, just enough to stop John's words. "I…" Sherlock sighed, looking skyward in frustration. Why the hell was this so hard? Why?

He took a deep breath, determined to try again. "In my last year of high school, there was someone I knew, someone I… I trusted." John nodded for him to continue. "And he told me… He…" Sherlock sniffed, his face screwing uptight. No! He screamed at himself. He couldn't let himself crack like this, he just couldn't. "He said that… 'Oddity' is just a polite word for freak." Sherlock rushed out, looking at John. A tear slipped from his eyes and he angrily wiped it away.

"'Oddity' is just a polite word for freak. That's all you are. A freak. And this is just what freaks deserve. You can't blame me for that now, can you? Can you?" Victor shouted the last question in his ear, Sherlock wincing in response and shaking his head to clear it. "Thought so."

"And I… I actually believed him."

At first, John was a blank slate, his eyes devoid of emotion, his mouth a straight line. Then, all at once, it crumpled. Sherlock watched as John buried his face in his hands, dragging his fingers through his hair.

"Fuck. Sherlock, I… You.." He suddenly looked up, levelling Sherlock with a strong stare. "That is not true. And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to convince you. And I know you're probably thinking "what the fuck does he know?" but I'll tell you what I know. I know that when you're in a room, you make it brighter. That you have an endless source of compassion that you show when people need it most. And I know that it's the Oddities who decide what the word means, not some loser who obviously wasn't hugged as a child."

Sherlock's face split into a small smile. "Okay."

"Good." John nodded, sniffing hard. "Now come back so you can eat some pizza."

"Okay."

"Really? You've never played laser tag?" Bill asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, I never really had the opportunity." Sherlock explained. He didn't quite understand the big deal.

"Man, you have been missing out." Bill groaned.

"On… laser tag?" Sherlock asked, incredulously. He wondered briefly if this pizzeria was serving beer, but no, that was surely water presiding in Bill's glass.

"Yeah, man." Bill nodded enthusiastically. Sherlock turned to John, who simply shrugged and tipped his head, almost saying this is just how it is, I can't explain it.

" Okay. Perhaps… perhaps I will try it sometime." Sherlock allowed.

"Aw, man, that'd be great!" Bill exclaimed, smacking his hand on the table. "Ooh, we should do it today!"

"Oh, uh," Sherlock looked at John again, who shrugged and nodded as if to say yeah, we got time. "I suppose that would be alright."

"Awesome." Bill turned to the rest of the group. "Hey! Anyone up for some laser tag?"

A chorus of hoots and yeses followed, Bill turning to Sherlock with a grin.

"Guess that means we're playing laser tag, mate."

"I guess so."

**"

"Okay, so now that everybody knows the rules, it's time to get suited up. You can divide yourselves into two teams, blue and red, and put on the corresponding light jacket. Okay, troops, move out." The instructor boomed.

"C'mon, follow me." John prompted, taking Sherlock's hand and leading him through a door labelled armoury. "Red or blue?" John asked.

"Blue." Sherlock decided, following John over to the blue jackets. John helped him into it, showing him how the gun works and where on the jackets to aim. Sherlock, in turn, helped John into his, tightening the straps for him. "You look good." Sherlock whispered, ducking his head.

"You too." John winked, taking his hand and leading him through to the arena.

It was dark inside, Sherlock taking a few moments to adjust his eyes. He and John walked together towards the blue base, where the rest of the team was gathering as well.

"Do we have a plan?" Sherlock whispered into John's ear as they waited for the starting bell to ring.

"Not really." John admitted. "But you stick with me, we'll be fine."

"Okay." Sherlock shrugged.

"You gotta have my back though." John nudged him.

"Of course." Sherlock scoffed.

"Cool."

Fifteen minutes. Only fifteen minutes, and it was all over. Sherlock gasped for breath, pushing his fringe off his sweaty brow. Fifteen Minutes of John being amazing.

Every twist and turn, catching people from far away before he moved in. Sherlock was there every step of the way, watching as John took people down repeatedly, sending everyone back to their base again and again. Sherlock had no idea that John would be such a good shot. It was exhilarating to watch, rushes of heat flooding Sherlock's body as he thought of it.

It was beautiful, it was astounding, it was… Sexy. Sherlock blushed to admit it, but he couldn't help acknowledging that the pounding of his heart and sweat beading on his back wasn't fully caused by the exertion of laser tag combat. It was John, pure and simple. He had taken control, dominating the game with a skill Sherlock had never seen before, and it fitted him like a glove.

Sherlock hadn't thought that any of the overpowering lust from their first meeting could truly return, but after watching John being so confident and sure of himself… Maybe it was possible?

"You want a drink, Sherlock?" John's voice broke through Sherlock's thoughts.

"Uh, yes. T-thank you, John." Sherlock said, struggling to calm his still burning cheeks.

"No problem." John assured him with a smile. A smile that set Sherlock's heart pounding all over again.

Oh, no, Sherlock thought. And rightly so, Because Sherlock Holmes had it bad.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

*SG= Secondary Gender.