"Ready to go, dearie?" Mrs. Hudson asked grabbing the leash by the back door.

"Yeah," He said with a grin. "Let me just wipe off a little bit."

"Take your time." She said. "I'll meet you at the car."

John turned to go the work room. He'd shown up early this morning to mow the lawn before the heat of the day settled too heavily. It was only half past 9 but he was still drenched in sweat and grass clippings. He pulled his bag from under the work top and pulled off his shirt before wiping down quickly with a flannel. He put on a quick swipe of deodorant and pulled the clean shirt from his bag. He packed away his belongings and hurried out the door to meet Mrs. Hudson. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Sherlock standing by the car having a conversation with the housekeeper.

"But he's my dog." Sherlock said evenly.

"You've never had an interest in walking him before." Mrs. Hudson answered.

"Well, now I do." Sherlock answered.

"So, take him some other time." Mrs. Hudson said snippily. "This is the only bit of peace I get with you underfoot all the time."

"Come now, Mrs. Hudson." He said. "This is the only free time I have all day."

"Really?" She asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. My tutors are quite strict with my education and I have tons of book work to get done this afternoon." He answered.

"You'll keep your mouth shut?" Mrs. Hudson threatened. "And not complain about how long we're there or how slow we go?"

"Of course." Sherlock said with a charming grin plastered to his face.

Mrs. Hudson sighed heavily before gesturing toward the back seat. John began walking toward them again and raised his eyebrow at the look of irritation on Mrs. Hudson's face. "He wants to come along."

They drove through town in an awkward silence until they arrived at the park. John helped Met out of the car and gave Mrs. Hudson his arm as they began walking slowly around the familiar landscape. John watched in interest as Sherlock got bored after about five minutes and started darting off to explore things that caught his interest. John and Mrs. Hudson fell into their normal routine and chatted as the other boy hopped in and out of the conversation.

"What in the world as gotten into that boy?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"You'd know better than me." John said shrugging. John liked watching the minutes of intense concentration that settled on the other boy's features until he solved whatever problem he had going on in his head before flying off to look at something else. They settled at their normal café and John went to get beverages for everyone.

"Why Metacarpal?" John asked curiously.

"I'd just broken a few of mine when Mother brought him home." Sherlock answered. "It seemed fitting."

"How'd you manage that?" John asked.

"Boxing class." Sherlock answered with a shrug.

"You box?" John said impressed.

"They demanded that I have an extracurricular activity." Sherlock answered. "It seemed like a suitable choice."

"Remind me never to piss you off then." John said with a laugh.

"I bet you could hold your own." Sherlock smiled. "What with being on the Rugby team."

"How'd you know that?" John asked.

"I deduced it from your stance." Sherlock said evenly.

"You're having me on." John said.

"I'm quite serious." Sherlock said.

"Just from the way I stand?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said. "Deducing people is what I do. That's why I can easily tell you that you spent your entire childhood in this same town only traveling once in the summer to a relatively well-known destination probably Paris or Rome. You had minimal orthodontia as a child but the braces were taken off earlier than was recommended by the dentist most likely due to money issues judging by the state of your clothing. You spend very little time on a computer in your free time and hand write most of your essays that are assigned at school judging by the knot on the middle finger of your left hand. You and your mother both work long hours with your sister often gone from the house so you don't actually see each other regularly on a daily basis. That's obvious by the many times you come to work with the tag sticking out of the back of your shirt. If your mother or sister had noticed, they would have fixed it for you."

John sat back in shock watching as the other boy resolutely refused to look at John, "That was…amazing."

"Was it?"

"Yes, it was. You know it was." John said with a wry grin.

"That's not what most people say." Sherlock said finally meeting John's eyes.

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off."

John giggled slightly and then tried to swallow down the embarrassing sound feeling his cheeks flush a bright red.

Mrs. Hudson had the strangest look on her face when they stood a few minutes later to return with Met to the house. John was too busy to really focus on her though. He spent the entire drive back to the house asking Sherlock to deduce the people around them.

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Sherlock spent the afternoon working with his tutors but couldn't help but gaze out the window every few seconds to watch John continue his work on the front lawn. He was surprised at how much he enjoyed himself that morning especially when John had asked him to show off his well-honed talent. It was immensely flattering. He'd never really had anyone think his deductions were amazing before. Useful, sure. Freakish, he'd heard that more than once. But, amazing? That was new.

He let his mind wander back to John's giggle that morning as he parroted back the German his tutor was speaking. He remembered the little jolt that ran up and down his spine at that sound and how he desperately wanted John to laugh like that again. Very soon.

He looked out at John again appreciating the view of the shirtless boy. He hadn't realized that he'd been staring until he heard Mycroft clear his throat behind him causing him to jump slightly.

"What?" Sherlock growled.

"Taking an interest in your pet, Sherlock?" Mycroft said smirking.

"He's not a pet, Mycroft!" Sherlock said offended and felt his cheeks flush bright pink at Mycroft's raised eyebrow.

"I was talking about Metacarpal." Mycroft said smugly. "But considering the view from up here, perhaps there were some ulterior motives to this morning."

Sherlock's tongue got all tied up in his mouth and he could only throw his textbook at his brother in response.

"Very eloquent." Mycroft answered. "I just came to say goodbye. I'm going back to London."

"Good riddance."

"Now, Sherlock." Mycroft said with a mock frown. "That hurts."

"Yeah, right." Sherlock snorted.

"Try not to get into any more trouble." Mycroft said heading toward the door. "You know how it upsets Mummy."

Mycroft closed the door before Sherlock could answer. Sherlock turned back toward the window but John had finished up in the front and had left. Damn. Now he had nothing to distract him from the boring tutors.

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John walked into the house and tossed his gross shirts in the hamper by the washing machine before turning to head toward the living room. He thought he heard the television and wanted to chat with his Mum. It seemed like ages since they interacted anymore than just a wave in passing. He turned the corner to say hello when he found the area empty. He sighed heavily and switched off the telly. Harry must have left it on before she went out. He climbed the stairs to take a shower smiling at the clean sheets his Mum must have found time to put on his bed. He cleaned up quickly and called Lestrade to see if he wanted to hang out for a bit.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Lestrade, is Greg in?"

"Oh, John! Hello." She answered. "I'm sorry but he isn't. Him and his father went on an impromptu fishing trip."

"Oh." John answered.

"He should be back Tuesday evening."

"Alright. Thanks."

"Goodbye!"

"Bye."

John dropped the phone in the charger and looked around feeling bored. He wandered into the kitchen to pop a bag of popcorn before settling on the couch to watch the telly. He was three quarters of the way through some film about demon-fighting brothers when the phone went. He walked to the kitchen and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Is anyone there?"

"Right then." John said placing the phone in the cradle and collapsing back onto the couch. He must have dozed off because the next time he looked, the sun was beginning to rise. He jerked up and ran to get dressed before Mrs. Hudson showed up. He was back down stairs to grab a bit when he veered towards his mother's room. He knocked lightly and opened the door to find her sleeping. He went back to the kitchen to leave a note on the table before grabbing his bag and stepping outside just as Mrs. Hudson pulled up.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hudson." He said with a smile.

"Good morning, dearie." She answered.

"What are we doing today?" He asked.

"I think I'll have you work in the private living area today." She said.

"Really?" John said curiously. He'd only ever work in the Great Rooms of the Manor. The ones that are prepared for guests and formal meetings. For the most part, Mrs. Hudson handled the actual living areas of the residents herself. "What am I going to be doing?"

"Mrs. Holmes wants to repaint the living room. You can help move furniture, throw down tarps, and paint today." She said.

"Alright." He said. "I can do that."

They made it to the house and John entered the residential wing for the first time. He had a pretty reliable sense of direction so he made it to the living area relatively easily. He did, however, have to do a double take at what the Holmes family actually considered a "living area". The room was filled with tables stacked full of books, beakers, laptops, pipettes, and, oddly, a skull. The rest of the space was filled up by seven different filing cabinets, a sofa, and three chairs. Basically, the room was filled with stuff and it was his job to get it ready for painting. He puffed out his cheeks in mild frustration because he wasn't even sure where to begin. He was also slightly concerned at how fragile some of the chemistry sets seemed.

"Right," He said to himself. "Find Mrs. Hudson immediately."

He was just turning on his heel to chase after the landlady when he heard Mrs. Holmes call after him.

"Ah!" She said. "You've found us, John. Welcome to the residential area."

"Thanks." He said glancing around again with a resigned sigh. "So we're painting today?"

"Oh, John!" She said with a laugh. "That's adorable. No, it'll take us the better part of the week to even clear the space."

"Right." He said glancing around again. "Where do I start?"

"We'll store most of the files and chemistry equipment in the sun room down the hall." She said looking at the mess. "It might take awhile. You can start there."

"Fine." John said.

"Mind the vials full of chemicals, but everything else should be relatively safe." She said before turning down another hall.

"Fantastic." John said to himself before grabbing a stack of files. He was making what seemed to be his hundredth trip back and forth between the rooms when he turned to find Sherlock about a foot away.

"Again with the sneaking thing?" He said after picking up the books he'd dropped.

"It's a gift." Sherlock said with a shrug and a grin.

"So, what are you and your tutors up to today?" John asked as Sherlock followed him down the hall.

"I haven't the faintest idea." Sherlock said. "I sort of slipped my leash about an hour ago."

"Why are you having classes in the summer anyway?" John asked curiously.

"Because my mother thinks it will keep me from getting bored." Sherlock said. "At least more bored than I already am."

"Sounds bloody boring if you ask me." John said. "School all year round would drive me barmy."

"So what do you do?" Sherlock asked. "During the summer?"

"Besides work?" John said. "Mostly hang out with my mates, play Rugby."

"Where did you work in the summers before this?" Sherlock asked.

"Umm…" John said turning to grab some more files. "I worked with my dad. He ran a motel chain a few towns over. I would help with check-ins, paperwork, stuff like that."

"That doesn't sound very interesting either." Sherlock said

"It wasn't really." John shrugged. "What about you? Pastimes? Hobbies?"

"Experiments." Sherlock said collapsing into a chair.

"Any specific area of focus?" John asked.

"Anything, everything." Sherlock answered. "I'm currently working on the rate of decomposition in detritus in a constantly moist environment."

"Do tell." John asked.

For the next six hours, Sherlock talked and talked and talked to John. He explained about his current experiments (all 20 of them), his plans for University, his deductions regarding the staff, his tutors, his neighbors. John stopped to grab his lunch and Sherlock trailed after him to the kitchen chatting away as John nodded and smiled and laughed on cue. He couldn't help but giggle as Sherlock explained how he ended up finding Anderson in the supply closet.

"Hello boys." Mrs. Hudson said with a plate of biscuits and pot of tea. "I thought you might like a cuppa. This place looks great, John."

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson." John said collapsing on the couch. "I should be able to get all of the filing cabinets moved tomorrow."

"Well," Mrs. Hudson said. "I'll leave you boys to it then. John, whenever you're ready I'll be in the workroom. No rush. I'll just be doing paperwork."

Sherlock picked up the conversation once Mrs. Hudson scurried off explaining to John the importance of accurate blood spatter analyses to determine the height of murderers. John drank his tea and listened to Sherlock for another hour before glancing at the clock and standing up.

"I better get going." John said stretching.

"Alright." Sherlock said glancing around awkwardly.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" John asked.

"Nothing definite." Sherlock replied. "Why?"

"I just thought you might want to follow me around again tomorrow." John shrugged.

"I'll check my social calendar." Sherlock said with a wry grin.

"See ya, mate." John said before walking out to find Mrs. Hudson. He found her in the kitchen having tea with Mrs. Holmes.

"John!" Mrs. Holmes said with a grin.

"I brought down the tray." John said setting it down by the sink. "Hey, Mrs. Holmes."

"Did Sherlock talk your ear off?" She asked, a funny sort of bemused look on her face.

"It was fun." John shrugged. "He's bloody brilliant."

He shifted awkwardly as the two ladies stared at him with a matching look of glee that he couldn't really interpret at all.

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Sherlock, you're such an adorable guy!

Another giant THANK YOU to everyone continuing to take an interest in my little story. I really appreciate it! It gives me the warm and fuzzies.