"All right, what was all that back there," Sherlock said once we were back
in the car.
"That was me analyzing a crime scene," I said simply, "you're not the only one with talent you know."
He gave a rueful smile.
"So I see."
"Though I wouldn't have thought of the shoe prints," I admitted.
Male ego slightly appeased, Sherlock started to morph back into a slight semblance of friendliness. I hoped I had impressed him enough to get a little respect.
"How do you know the police chief?" I asked.
Sherlock gave what looked like a rather pained smile.
"When I was younger and a lot stupider I did drugs," he said, "Paul saw me in detention at the station and eventually realized I was a natural at crime scene investigation. He wanted me to get cleaned up before I killed myself or someone else and he thought teaching me what he knew might accomplish that. I wanted to learn, he wanted me clean, so we made a deal. I haven't touch the stuff in four years, and Paul has sort of made me his protégée."
Sherlock smiled.
"I never wanted to let Paul down, he really went out on a limb for me. When I got accepted to college I decided to be serious about something for once. Hence my being a little intense."
"But I thought you were from England," I said.
"I am. My Mum moved here with me about eight years ago. That's another story."
And one I wasn't going to press for. Sherlock had probably just told me more about himself than anyone else on campus knew. He had more facets than I had ever imagined, and slowly a bit of a clearer image was forming of him in my mind.
"But crime?" I asked.
"Everyone has a darker side of the soul," he said with a glance over to me, "I just happen to be very well acquainted with mine. I guess it puts me on an even playing field with the bad guy."
There was a lull in conversation.
"Are you any good at math?" I asked, changing the subject.
"I have a 4.0 if that answers your question. Why?"
"Because I suck at it and I have a test," I answered.
A slight smile tugged at the corner of Sherlock's mouth.
"Is this your round about way of asking me for help without really asking me?"
"You catch on quick," I said with a grin.
"Then I suppose you've forgiven me for the little incident in the library?" he said.
"Not a chance," I shot back, "that's going to come back and haunt you for a long time."
Sherlock laughed. A real one. Not one of those slightly bitter attempts at one I'd heard once or twice. A real one that started from an open, gorgeous smile. It was sort of soft for a guy, but then his speaking voice was rather subdued anyway. No telling what he could do if he every really figured out how to turn on the charm.
"I tell you what," he said, "you provide the food, I'll help you. And we can work on this project together while we're at it."
"So you think I'm worthy to work with now?"
"You show potential," he said smugly, "you can almost keep up with me."
He parked the car.
"You know," I said as I got out, "you might have more friends if you didn't have the manners of a rabid pit bull."
"It hasn't seemed to throw you off," he shot back, "so why are you complaining."
He had me there. Touché.
"That was me analyzing a crime scene," I said simply, "you're not the only one with talent you know."
He gave a rueful smile.
"So I see."
"Though I wouldn't have thought of the shoe prints," I admitted.
Male ego slightly appeased, Sherlock started to morph back into a slight semblance of friendliness. I hoped I had impressed him enough to get a little respect.
"How do you know the police chief?" I asked.
Sherlock gave what looked like a rather pained smile.
"When I was younger and a lot stupider I did drugs," he said, "Paul saw me in detention at the station and eventually realized I was a natural at crime scene investigation. He wanted me to get cleaned up before I killed myself or someone else and he thought teaching me what he knew might accomplish that. I wanted to learn, he wanted me clean, so we made a deal. I haven't touch the stuff in four years, and Paul has sort of made me his protégée."
Sherlock smiled.
"I never wanted to let Paul down, he really went out on a limb for me. When I got accepted to college I decided to be serious about something for once. Hence my being a little intense."
"But I thought you were from England," I said.
"I am. My Mum moved here with me about eight years ago. That's another story."
And one I wasn't going to press for. Sherlock had probably just told me more about himself than anyone else on campus knew. He had more facets than I had ever imagined, and slowly a bit of a clearer image was forming of him in my mind.
"But crime?" I asked.
"Everyone has a darker side of the soul," he said with a glance over to me, "I just happen to be very well acquainted with mine. I guess it puts me on an even playing field with the bad guy."
There was a lull in conversation.
"Are you any good at math?" I asked, changing the subject.
"I have a 4.0 if that answers your question. Why?"
"Because I suck at it and I have a test," I answered.
A slight smile tugged at the corner of Sherlock's mouth.
"Is this your round about way of asking me for help without really asking me?"
"You catch on quick," I said with a grin.
"Then I suppose you've forgiven me for the little incident in the library?" he said.
"Not a chance," I shot back, "that's going to come back and haunt you for a long time."
Sherlock laughed. A real one. Not one of those slightly bitter attempts at one I'd heard once or twice. A real one that started from an open, gorgeous smile. It was sort of soft for a guy, but then his speaking voice was rather subdued anyway. No telling what he could do if he every really figured out how to turn on the charm.
"I tell you what," he said, "you provide the food, I'll help you. And we can work on this project together while we're at it."
"So you think I'm worthy to work with now?"
"You show potential," he said smugly, "you can almost keep up with me."
He parked the car.
"You know," I said as I got out, "you might have more friends if you didn't have the manners of a rabid pit bull."
"It hasn't seemed to throw you off," he shot back, "so why are you complaining."
He had me there. Touché.