AN: One review? Disappointed!

This prompt is from Fantasybean and I LOVED it. So all credit for this chapter goes to her since her prompt was very detailed.

Lily

I stared at the crested envelope in my hands.

'Sherlock? You've got a letter from Caius College in Cambridge.'

I dropped it over the back of the sofa and twenty seconds later it remerged, now open, accompanied by the phrase 'Boring.'

I scooped it up and sauntered into the kitchen reading it. 'Sherlock this is an invitation to an alumni meeting at your old college... you went to Cambridge? How much money does your family have?!'

'Thank you John. I can read, you realise.' Replied my grumpy sweetheart.

'Well why don't you go? It might be fun, you never know you might make some new friends!'

Sherlock looked up over the back of the sofa and looked around the room before resting his eyes on me 'Oh did you mean me? Sorry, I thought a small child had wandered in.' And he flumped back into the sofa cushions.

I sighed 'Please Sherlock, I'd like to see where you went to Uni. I've never really been exposed to the upper class way of life.' I turned back to the kitchen 'I'm only exposed to two upper class pricks at any one time.'

Sherlock's slightly amused glare followed me into the kitchen.

...

'Wait.' I caught Sherlock up just outside the double doors and straightened up his bowtie.

'Honestly, are you my boyfriend or my mother?' he pouted.

I smiled smugly and continued smoothing down his shirt 'Considering what we were doing this morning, I really hope I'm not your mother...'

He smiled back at me and looped his arm through mine, leading me through the double doors.

I was greeted by an array of sparkling ball gowns, expensive suits and different people's perfume. I stared around me, realising that the necklace the young lady next to me was wearing, quite probably cost more than my annual wages. I suddenly felt like my best suit (£300 from Savile Row Tailors in the sale) was far, far too cheap.

I suddenly felt a slight pressure on my hand and looked up into concerned silvery eyes 'Are you alright John?'

I made a little strangled noise.

Sherlock smiled worriedly and bent his head to whisper in my ear 'You see the man in the tartan waistcoat? He was down the corridor in my dorm block, and was sleeping with the girl across the hall, the boy across the hall and our sociology lecturer. Now he's sleeping with his wife's manager...'

I giggled, my inferiority complex gone. A few minutes later we were called through to dinner and seated on a table with five men and two women. The women mainly spoke to each other all night and the men immediately launched into a discussion with Sherlock about the price of tennis shoes or something. I started to drift off and stopped paying attention, until one of the buck-toothed, chinless weirdos spoke to me.

'So what year of Alumni are you from?' He asked in that voice that sounds like he's trying to swallow a tennis ball.

'Oh I didn't come to Cambridge.' I replied cheerfully 'I never had that sort of money.'

'Oh.' He looked put out 'Well you must be with someone.'

'Yes. With Sherlock Holmes.'

'Oh yes, I see. I suppose you two work together do you?' I opened my mouth to reply but he simply carried on oblivious 'You might want to steer a path clear of Sherlock, old chap.' He looked over his shoulder to see that no one was spying on us 'Bit of an odd fish that one.' He whispered 'Always thought he might have been... you know.' He wiggled his eyebrows at me. I schooled my face into a mask of uncertainly 'A bit of a poufter.' The unpleasant man hissed 'Doesn't bother me of course. Leaves more of the totty for the rest of us real men, what?' he slapped me on the back and guffawed hugely.

'What do you mean real men?' I asked in feigned surprise

'Well, you know. Those of us who don't go in for the old buggery.' He smirked and tapped the front of my jacket. 'The real men.' He gestured with his glass 'The normals of the population. Look, don't mention any of this to Sherlock, alright? I'm sure you know how he can be...' he gave an embarrassed roll of the eyes

I smile humourlessly 'Oh absolutely, piece of cake. But I'm sure you'll agree sir, that normality is what you make of it.' Now, after that night, I'm pretty sure someone up there is rooting for me. Because around twelve seconds after I had said that, Sherlock came up behind me holding a drink.

'Hello Edgar.' He said in his bored voice.

'What ho, Sherlock.' Slurred the prick I had just been talking to.

'John, are you – Mmf!' Sherlock said as I tugged him down for a rough kiss. About ten minutes later we broke apart and I gave him another chaste kiss on his lips. I turned to Edgar- the- prick, looping my arm around Sherlock's waist.

'What were you saying about normal men in the population?' The look of shock and fear on Edgar- the – prick's face was worth being kicked out of the college for.

AN: Edgar the prick's views on homosexuality are not my views on homosexuality. He is a prick. Please review. And prompt.