D.A. Smith: I'm super sorry I haven't been around as much. Honestly I had writer's block/ lack of motivation and a bunch of other things going on. But I'm back! :D And I'll try to stay back. Again, I am super sorry.

Hey Mollylock! Thanks for reading this and thank you for liking it so far! :D Welcome to this fanfic! :D Bedbugs…ugh, I know. Nasty.

25, Justagirloutthere, suzedarcy, Cath100, Welcome!

CHAPTER 8

What Sherlock had told me last night was super important and I was too mad to listen. A boy had never knocked on my door that late at night and I was scared/excited/nervous. I was also sleepy and not being able to sleep frustrated me. It had always been that way but I shouldn't have tried to kick him out the way I did. Not tell him repeatedly "You couldn't wait until morning?"

I needed to apologize to him. I couldn't sleep, anyway. Not with those things, the bedbugs, on my bed. Sherlock and I had taped over the mattress at three am so the bedbugs wouldn't make its way to my skin, but just knowing they were there, crawling and wanting to eat me alive made me cringe.

I slipped into jeans and a t-shirt at seven a.m., after not sleeping at all, and headed towards Sherlock's room. I needed to thank him and apologize for my behavior. I needed to, or the guilt would not let me sleep. As I stared at his door I went through everything I would say. I don't know why I was so nervous. I was just going to thank him.

Before my fist reached the wooden door, though, it opened with a swing, revealing Sherlock with a fresh face and dressed even with his scarf and coat on. "Hello, Hooper." He greeted with a weak smile. "I saw your shadow under the door."

I smiled nervously. I forgot what I was supposed to say.

"Fancy some breakfast?" He said as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

"Uh, sure," He walked right past me, his strides long and fast compared to my small ones. Two steps of mine were one of his. He headed toward door leading to the stairs and I followed obediently.

"I think I got a lead. Well, not really a lead. We'll see." His deep voice echoed on the walls of the staircase, bouncing off into my ears.

"Sherlock," I said his name trying to regain his attention. My hands were holding on to the rail of the staircase as my own voice resonated in the closed environment.

"Yep." He looked at me with his lips pressed together, his eyes glimmering with a clear blue-green I couldn't look away from.

Have his eyes always been that…pretty? Under those thick, dark eyebrows? "I wanted to say thank you for yesterday. And I'm sorry for trying to shove you away. I didn't want you to think you could just come to my room at night. It would look…you know."

"Look how?" He asked puzzled.

"You know. Indecent?"

"Why would it look indecent if I go to your room at night?"

I decided not to respond to that and shook my head with a smile. What was I thinking? "You're right." It's not as if I was going to wind up putting a sock on the doorknob, anyway. At least, not with him.

We reached the cafeteria just as breakfast was being served. I got fruit on a plate, but Sherlock didn't seem to get anything. "Aren't you going to eat?" I asked him pushing my eyebrows together.

"I don't eat when I'm thinking."

I chuckled. "Do you ever eat then?"

Maybe I imagined it, but I could see a small smile forming for a moment. We sat at our usual dinner table. It felt strange eating when the person I was with refused to. I tried not to chew loudly or be of any inconvenience to his thoughtfulness.

"Molly," He said without looking at me, "Where do you get bedbugs?"

"They usually come from somewhere else. Someone has to have brought them with them in either their clothes or hair or bag or something."

"True." He was quiet after that, his eyebrows pulling together as he thought. I could see in his face how a million different things traveled through his neurons and transformed into theories and hypothesis.

I swallowed carefully and asked shyly, "You don't think that has anything to do with the robber, do you?"

He chuckled as if I had said something stupid. "That would be too obvious a trail. No. I'm thinking more about your stolen ring. But now that you mention it, I shouldn't hang out with you as much in case I get a bedbug with me."

"Ha-ha. Funny."

He smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back.

I didn't see Sherlock all day. At all. Not even at dinner. Lila was a bit relieved. "I just never know what to talk about when he is here."

I shrugged. "He's not half as bad. I think he is really nice."

She scoffed and ate her sandwich. "So, there is this frat party I was invited to."

Immediately I made a face. I'm not much for partying, and Lila knew that. Too many people in one single place. It's as if a whole social anxiety attack just with the single word. "Are you going?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to come with me." She smiled and stretched her hand toward mine. She held it dearly, trying to reassure me it would be fine. "It will be fine. I promise. If you don't like it, you can go back to the dorm and no hard feelings okay?"

I tried to find an excuse to not go. Socializing is not exactly my strongest skill. Then, I was enlightened. I remembered I had a job interview the next day. I told Lila so and she accepted my refusal with grace.

Lila left for the party, leaving me alone with my books ….and the bedbugs. I couldn't really concentrate. I thought I could hear the things walking around, their little legs clanking against the floor. I imagined their feet on my skin as I slept…

I don't know what happened but I found myself knocking on Sherlock's door that night. It seemed funny that just the night before I had been complaining about how indecent it seemed of him to knock on my door in the middle of the night and here I was. Knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Because I was scared. Of bedbugs.

I even brought a Teddy Bear with me.

He opened the door half-asleep, saw me, and moved out of the way so I could go through. I stepped in, hugging my Teddy Bear tightly. "Sorry to bother you but…"

"You can have the bed. I can just sleep on the floor." He interrupted, his deep voice a bit drowsy. It was a bedroom with one single bed in it.

I knew I should be used to his know-it-all skills, but it still amazed me he knew my intentions so well.

"How did you know what I was going to ask you?"

"Bedbugs. You were bound to imagine them on you and you have an interview tomorrow. You got to sleep. So, you can take my bed, just make sure no bugs are actually on you. Oh, by the way…" He walked to his closet and took out an item from a small box. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but now that you are here…" He stretched his hand and there it was.

My ring. My scholarship ring. "Where did you find it?"

"Found the culprit. Let's just say he promised not to rob more rooms if I kept quiet about his situation."

"His situation?"

He nodded and signaled the bed. "Sweet dreams, Hooper."

I wanted to know the how's and why's but I knew better than to ask. I just liked the fact I didn't have to ask to sleep there. He just let me. I liked that he didn't complain. I liked it. I liked him. I guess that's when I knew for a fact he was going to be a very dear friend of mine.