Sorry again, sweeties! Have something cute :)

~0~0~0~

Sherlock was always the first child out of the classroom when the clock hit 3 and school finished for the day. His teacher, some of the time, would feel sorry for the little boy who didn't seem to have any friends at all as he darted out of the room, grabbing his satchel with no one trying to stop him. However, she couldn't blame the other children, even she found it hard to warm to him.

All, except the curly-haired Mary Hudson, who was always following him out of the door, calling his name. No matter how many times he rejected her offers to play, or to go home for tea, she wouldn't be deterred. It was quite sweet, really.

"Sherlock!" Mary cried, tripping slightly over her own feet as the 7 year old chased after the boy, forgetting her own bag in the cloak room. Sherlock sighed in annoyance and stopped in the middle of the courtyard.

"What is it now?" He asked her harshly and she smiled at him, missing one of bottom teeth and showing it off beautifully.

"Wanna come to mine for tea?" She asked happily, "We could play out in the woods, or do some reading or something."

"No, I do not." He snapped in reply, turning and leaving her in the gaggle of parents and children as he headed towards his own mother.

"Maybe tomorrow!" She called after him, still sounding too happy for his liking and he shook his head.

"No!" He shouted back, reaching his mother.

"Who are you shouting at, Sherlock?" She asked kindly, like she always did and he turned his nose up in disgust at the idea of talking about the girl a moment longer.

"Mary Hudson. She keeps trying to get me to go to her house for dinner." He explained, ignoring his mother's outstretched hand as they headed towards the gates.

"That's nice." His mother cooed slightly, "Don't you want to go?" He shook his head.

"No, I do not." He replied snidely, "She's incredibly dull. She only got 23 on the maths test last week."

"Well not everyone can be as clever as you, sweetheart." She told him and he nodded.

"More's the pity." He replied, echoing his older brother. They reached the end of the metal fencing that encircled the school and he frowned, stopping, "Mother, where is Redbeard?" He asked, noticing his dog was not tied to the railings like normal.

"Sherlock, dear." She replied with a sigh, hoping he'd not notice until they home, "Something happened this morning." He reached out and took her hand.

~0~0~0~

"No!" A young girl screamed, pulling Sherlock from his book, Shakespeare, naturally, "I won't say sorry!" It was times like this he despaired over the fact the school 'library' was really just a oversized set of shelves near the school office. It was totally open plan and did not provide the suitable environment necessary for study.

"Mary, you will apologise!" A stern female voice replied, not one that belonged to any teacher in the school and he was slightly intrigued. Mycroft was always playing this game where you had to figure out things before they were told to you, it was rather fascinating. No female adult from the school, but shouting at this 'Mary' girl? Mother, obviously.

"I won't!" The girl replied, just as shrilly as she had before, "I'm not sorry, he was being mean!"

"That's no excuse to hit anyone." The mother explained, "Apologise now, Mary."

"But his dog's just died!" Mary protested and Sherlock frowned, his book now laying on the table in front of him. Dog?

"No buts, Mary!" The mother shouted and it went silent for a moment before the Headteacher's door opened.

"You will go and sit in the library until you are prepared to apologise." Ahh, there was the Headteacher. He was starting to wonder if she even trying to run the school at all. He wasn't surprised when Mary Hudson stomped into the space, a sour look on her face that disappeared slightly when she saw Sherlock. Her head tilted to one side, like she wasn't expected him there. She walked over and he rolled his eyes.

"Why aren't you outside with everyone else?" She asked.

"Who would choose to go outside?" He retorted. Obviously not knowing the answer to that, she looked over into the book.

"What are you reading?" She asked.

"Macbeth by William Shakespeare." He replied factually.

"Is it good?" She asked. He wasn't entire sure, it was written in old English and he couldn't quite understand it, but Mycroft had already read a few and he wasn't about to be bested by his brother.

"Yes." He replied and she grabbed a small wooden chair and placed it next to him.

"It looks really hard." She told him, "You must be really smart to be able to read this."

"I am." He replied smugly.

"Can I read too?" She asked, "And if I don't understand, you can tell me what it means?" He looked at her for a moment, studying her. He would enjoy showing off how smart he actually was.

"Yeah, alright then." She smiled and leant over, her brows quickly furrowing as she read the complicated wording. He quickly changed the page on purpose, knowing she can't have had time to read it but she didn't complain.

"Who did you hit?" He asked.

"James Shearsmith." She replied quietly.

"Why?" She looked up from the book, nose in the air, with a defiant look on her face.

"Because he deserved it." She declared. He nodded, going back to the book.

"Usually." He agreed and she giggled, pointing to a piece of prose.

"What does that mean?" She asked.

"He's telling his wife not to ask him what he's about to do." Sherlock explained, "He's about to kill a guy." She wrinkled her nose slightly.

"Really? That's not very nice."

"He's not very nice." He retorted.

"Oh!" She replied in realisation, "That's okay then." They went back to reading, Sherlock noticing how she mouthing certain words to herself to try and read them in her head. He looked down at the book again, how annoying, "I'm sorry about your dog." He looked up, surprised slightly but she didn't stop reading, "I'm not allowed a dog. Mummy says girls don't play around with dirty animals unless it's a horse, but horses are stupid." She suddenly looked up, looking concerned, "Dog's aren't always dirty. Mummy's just stupid sometimes and says the wrong thing. Daddy told me to ignore her. I bet your dog was clean." She went back to reading again, but Sherlock couldn't. The tugging in his chest he'd been feeling for the last two days hurt even more for a moment.

"Redbeard would roll around in puddles." He declared quietly, startling her, "He liked to be dirty all of the time." Mary looked genuinely interested, and Sherlock was becoming more and more adept at telling fake emotion every day.

"Redbeard?" She repeated, "Was he a pirate?" He opened his mouth, ready to tell her that yes, he had been a pirate, the best pirate, but then a woman he'd never seen before marched into the library area.

"Mary Hudson!" She shouted, "You're supposed to be thinking about what you did!" She stormed over and grabbed Mary by her arm, pulling her up even as the little girl yelled out in protest, "You will come and apologise to James at once!"

"I will not!" She exclaimed, even as her mother began pulling her across the carpet. She just dug her heels in and thrashed, "Let me go!"

"Mary." Sherlock stood up, holding his hands clasped behind his back, "If you apologise to James, I will most certainly not be coming around for tea tonight." A grin broke out on her face and she looked up at her mother.

"You heard him, Mummy." She told the raging woman, "I can't say sorry now, Sherlock said so."