Chapter Five: Connected

A/N: For some reason we really struggled to write this chapter, but hopefully it is ok. There is a line included in this that we borrowed from The Inbetweeners, and if anyone spots it do let us know in a review. Also, we have based the technician on someone from our own school, who always manages to make everything really awkward. It's not really relevant, but we thought it might be nice to let you all in on the joke. Anyway, enough rambling, and on with the reading!

Disclaimer: The BBC owns Sherlock, Bwark Productions owns The Inbetweeners, but we very much own Leah, and of course the technician.

Sherlock turned on his heel and began striding down the school corridor.

"Where are you going?" called Lestrade, "the hall is this way."

"ICT department," Sherlock told him.

"Why?"

"I need to hack into the schools system, and look at each and every one of the students' accounts."

"What? No, you can't do that!" Lestrade exclaimed.

"Of course I can. An institution like this has typically poor security, mainly because the only people accessing the network are children and idiots. Apart from today that is."

"No, I mean you can't do that because it wouldn't exact reflect very well on The Metropolitan Police if someone found out that a thirty-something year-old man had gained unauthorised access to the documents and emails of a load of minors."

"I don't think it would reflect badly if it leads me Mike Stamford's killer," Sherlock argued.

"So you think one of the students killed Mike?" John said in disbelief.

"Don't be ridiculous John. I think one of the teachers killed Mike, but I think one of the students sent the CO2 threat."

"What, you think the two cases are connected?" Lestrade questioned.

"Obviously, Lestrade," Sherlock said rolling his eyes.

"And how long have you known about this?"

"I hardly think that's relevant, now let's get going shall we?" Sherlock said, beginning to walk away from Lestrade.

"Even if this is a lead, we can't just hack into the system right under their noses," Lestrade reasoned.

"Of course we can, why wouldn't we?" Sherlock asked, annoyed by Lestrade's argumentative tone.

"It would be inappropriate," Lestrade stated.

"It would be more inappropriate if we broke into the school at night, surely? And besides, I was under the impression that you were desperate to catch Stamford's killer. But if that's not the case then we can just leave now," Sherlock threatened.

Lestrade sighed, surrendering at last: "Fine. But when you get put on the sex offenders list, I won't be there to help you get off of it."

Sherlock did not bother to reply, but marched on ahead to find the nearest computer suite. He entered a busy classroom and sat down to immediately begin typing feverously. The teacher approached apprehensively and tapped Sherlock on the shoulder. "Um, excuse me Sir, would you mind telling me who you are, I don't recognise you," the teacher inquired.

"I don't suppose you do; as I've never been here before," Sherlock told her, not bothering to make eye contact as he did.

"What are you doing here then?" the teacher persisted.

"I'm just testing your security system; it's very poor by the way," Sherlock commented.

"Oh well, if you're with a company could I see some identification? Its just we have to be careful," she explained.

"You have my word," Sherlock said with a smile.

"Um well…" the teacher started to apprehensively protest, before Lestrade strode up behind her and said: "It's ok, he's with the police," before flashing his detective badge at her. She nodded at him before her eyes flicked over to the group of unruly children at the other idea of the classroom who were throwing mouse mats at each other. "Oh excuse me, I have better go and deal with them" she said gesturing towards the students.

"Who exactly are we looking for then?" Lestrade asked.

"We?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I don't see you doing any looking Lestrade."

"Fine, who are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for someone exceptionally clever, attention-seeking and most importantly, bordering on psychotic," Sherlock explained.

"Oh, so basically a younger version of yourself then?" he said laughing to himself.

"No, I expect it to be a girl; as females do generally seem to have more obsessive tendencies,"

"Isn't that a bit sexist?" John argued.

"No John, it's a fact. Just take a look at Justin Bieber fans if you don't believe me"

Before John could ask how Sherlock even knew who Justin Bieber was, he heard him exclaim: "Aha!"

"I take it you've found her then; that was quick!" Lestrade said as he leaned in over Sherlock's shoulder to take a look at the computer screen in front of him.

"I am quick."

"So who is she then?" John asked.

"An 18 year-old in the Upper Sixth, an over-achiever, with blatant behavioural problems if her school reports are anything to go by. And it would seem that she has an obsession with me, as I thought!"

"Why would an 18 year-old girl be interested in you?" Lestrade asked sarcastically.

"Well, he's not exactly that bad looking," John interjected, much to the surprise of Sherlock and Lestrade who turned abruptly to questioningly stare at him. "Forget I said anything," he said quickly, shaking his head.

"I've looked into her internet history and it appears she frequently accesses John's blog, downloads pictures of me, and has even written fanfiction about me during her free periods! Oh look, there's one about you and me here John," Sherlock commented as he clicked on the link, "what does 'slash' mean?"

"We haven't got time for this" Lestrade interrupted impatiently. "Now just get me some proof that she wrote the messages to Mycroft."

"There is none on here. She's not stupid; however I think I may be able to get a confession."

"Even better!" Lestrade exclaimed. "So where is she then?"

"Her timetable indicates that she is currently in Super Lab 1 in the middle of a Chemistry lesson," Sherlock told them before proceeding to close down all of the documents that he had accessed, and heading out of the ICT suite in search of the science department.

Sherlock burst into the laboratory that he had been looking for, and was greeted by a nervous technician with thick curly brown hair. She quietly asked him: "Ummm, hello, how...how may I…may I help you, Sir?"

"No help required thank you, Molly," Sherlock told her dismissively as he quickly scanned around the room.

"Umm, my name isn't…it's not Molly," the technician tried to tell him but Sherlock had already walked away and left John to apologise on his behalf and Lestrade to explain the situation.

"Oh don't worry about him, he just a bit distracted at the moment," John told her as watched the man in question peering over some of the students' shoulders to look at their work, quite obviously mentally scrutinising each and every piece.

Sherlock noted that the pupils were attempting to carry out redox reactions with a variety of transition elements, and badly, except for on student that was, who had quite clearly finished the class practical and was embarking on her own more interesting investigation involving rubidium and water, with an exciting visual result. Sherlock was most familiar with this experiment himself as he occasionally liked to carry it out in his kitchen, to John's dismay, when he felt bored in the flat.

"Hello, you must Leah Conrad," Sherlock greeted the girl, expecting a somewhat more enthusiastic response than he received.

"That is correct, and how may I help you?" she questioned, remaining completely focussed on her experiment, not even looking up at Sherlock as she spoke.

That was strange, he thought, she didn't even seem interested, let alone aroused.

After 10 seconds, he still hadn't replied, and Leah eventually met his gaze to prompt a response. He still did not answer though; instead he stared into her eyes, and though it was through safety spectacles, it was still clear that her pupils were not distinctly dilated, neither was her neck flushed pink or her palms sweaty. She was calm, disinterested. Sherlock was intrigued. The girl was supposed to be utterly infatuated with him, so why was she not displaying any immediate signs of attraction to him? Though, she was also incredibly intelligent, Sherlock reminded himself, so perhaps she was purposely putting on this façade, as to not scare him way. Though, even the most skilled people experienced in such an act struggle to repress the reflexes that he was looking out for. There was one thing he was sure that she would be unable to control though; her heart rate. It was bound to be raised, he just to needed to check. Perhaps contact would trigger more of a response anyway.

"Oh, it appears you've stained your hand with some potassium manganate, here let me try and get it off for you," Sherlock said with a smile as he slowly moved towards her and began rubbing his thumb on the brown stain marking her skin, as he did so he pressed his index and middle fingers against the pulse in her wrist.

John and Lestrade were stood nearby watching over Sherlock carefully as they allowed him to go about his unofficial interrogation with the girl.

"Is he…flirting with her?" Lestrade asked John, horrified.

"I think he might be," John confirmed, his brow furrowing in both amazement and disgust.

"I knew it would be a bad idea letting him talk to her on his own; I better go and intervene before this whole situation gets anymore out of hand," Lestrade said as he walked over to stand beside Sherlock.

"Hardly elevated at all," Sherlock muttered to himself as he took Leah's pulse, before looking up to see Lestrade standing next to him.

"Sherlock," Lestrade started but he paused suddenly when he noticed the Chemistry teacher head towards them. Sherlock himself looked up too as the male teacher walked out from the tech room and headed in their direction. He froze, rooted to the spot, his fingers still pressed against Leah's wrist. She had noticed the man approaching too, and as he got closer, Sherlock felt her pulse finally step up, and rapidly too, as did his own coincidentally, but for very different reasons he imagined.

The man had nearly reached them by this point, his white lab coat swinging as he walked. After what seemed like a lifetime he finally stopped beside them and spoke:

"Now, Sherlock, what do you think you're doing with my star pupil, here?" the teacher said in a thick Southern Irish accent.

Sherlock finally dropped his hand from Leah's, looked up and stared intensely into the man's piercing eyes to give his reply: "It's funny you should ask that as I was actually here to find out what you're doing with her, Moriarty."

A/N: Dun dun dun! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was a bit short. And well done to Nocturnias for guessing who the teacher was.

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