Chapter Two; Best of Friends

It had only taken Maria a couple of months for Sherlock to come to trust her completely. Though he didn't register it at the time, he was desperate to have a friend in his young age despite Mycroft trying to drill the thought that friendships were dangerous into his mind. He chose his heart over his mind when it came to her. She had this way of keeping him speaking, thinking, curious, even becoming slightly mischievous when she was in his presence. And now they sat under their tree eating lunch, talking about the class they now shared due to changes in the system.

"I just don't like math Sherlock, I'm not good with numbers…" Maria said before biting furiously into her sandwich.

"Why don't you ask your dad to teach you? You said he was good with numbers." Sherlock replied, absently picking at his cold pasta. Maria scoffed softly.

"Dad? Really? He spends all his time fighting with mum; he doesn't have time for me. Not that I would bother him with it." She said looking down at her ham and cheese sandwich. She hated ham, but her mother constantly forgot. Sherlock looked over at her before offering her some of his pasta. At least he remembered that she hated ham. He was the only one who seemed to remember her sometimes.

"Did you want to come over for a while tonight?" Maria asked suddenly, looking at Sherlock. He blinked slowly.

"I guess so. But what about your mum and dad, shouldn't you ask?"

"I don't wanna be alone Sherlock."

So Sherlock came over that night. He walked with Maria home like usual and she didn't pause at the door pulling it open to find the house empty.

"They must be out…" Maria mused, throwing her bag down in the hallway before making her way into the kitchen. Sherlock followed after her quietly. It wasn't that he hadn't been here before. Truthfully he'd been over several times already, but that was only when her parents had been home. Maria didn't seem to mind though and she picked up the remote and flicked on the telly. She waved him into the sitting room before plonking herself down on the couch.

"Did you want anything to eat?"

"I'm alright." He shook his head and sat down beside her. He never could seem to stand mindless telly but he could tell Maria needed it to keep herself occupied, keep her mind off her situation both at school and at home. So he sat there in silence, letting the words simply bounce off him, not taking anything in, not even realising what they were watching until Maria started yelling.

"That's a red card umpy! You bloody idiot!" She cried, waving her fist at the telly like a mad woman. Then she seemed to realise she wasn't alone and turned to look at Sherlock. He wasn't sure if it was her expression or the fact she was shouting at nothing that caused him to burst out laughing. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed as much as this. Seeing her expression grow furious at him only made him double over even worse to the point he was almost falling off the couch. Needless to say, Maria wasn't impressed at his reaction and she pushed him off the couch. He landed on the floor in a heap, still giggling like a girl.

"I'm going to hurt you." She warned and his reply was to giggle once again. "I mean it!"

"Try your best!" He dared, rolling to avoid her when she attempted to jump on him. She managed to get up before he could and tackled him wildly, taking them both back to the floor. They rolled and Maria pinned him down with a smirk.

"Pinned ya!" She declared, sitting on top of him, trying to squish him. He wriggled underneath her, trying his best to push her off. It didn't help that he was a stick, but then again so was she. He managed to grab her wrists and flip them, pinning her down instead.

"What was that?" He questioned as she tugged her wrist free and shoved him back hard. He tumbled back off her, cashing into the leg of a table. He looked up in time to move, and pull Maria out of harm's way, before the pot could fall on them.

The crash was deafening to Maria's ears.

Sherlock had shielded her from the debris that might have flown up and hit them, so she couldn't see the damage yet. But she shook, shook from fear. Her mother loved that pot and she could only dread what would happen when her mother found they had smashed it, accidentally or not.

"Maria?" Sherlock's quiet whisper reached her and she looked up to see his eyes glazed with concern. "Are you hurt?"

"The pot, Sherlock my mother's going to kill me…" Was all she could say. He stood and helped her to her feet and she dared to look at the broken shards of her mother's favourite pot. She allowed Sherlock to guide her over to the couch before the sound of a car pulling in reached her ears. She froze and Sherlock turned to look at the door.

"Go to my room and hide under the bed," Maria suddenly ordered, turning to Sherlock, who blinked at her. "You're not supposed to be here and if she finds you I doubt she'll ever let you come over again, please! Go!" She said shoving him out of the room. He looked back at her before ducking down the corridor to her room. Maria stayed put in the living room, preparing herself for the rollercoaster she was in for when her mother saw the state of her pot.