"Hello John," Sherlock greeted his new roommate in the main grounds of the university, extending his right hand.
John looked at him quizzically and bemused, eyes darting down for a second to look at the extended hand. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Sherlock's smile faltered. "Your new roommate."
"Ah! Nice to meet you. I didn't know they gave out pictures of each other's roommates." John said without a hint of doubt in his voice. He took Sherlock's hand and shook it.
Sherlock smiled and nodded. "See you later," He said uncomfortably. It wasn't something he said normally but John had been so painfully… conventional it seemed appropriate.
He glanced at his phone. 3.28pm. It was 12 more minutes to the gathering of all the new undergraduate students in the Queen Mary Hall. "Enough time to put my things down in my room before heading there," He thought determinedly to his himself.
As he settled down into an empty seat at the back of the hall just minutes before the introduction to new students was to begin, he noticed John struggling to move his luggage and bags into the hall.
Simple-minded fool.
"Some people." The person to his left said to Sherlock casually and yet condescendingly in an Irish accent, looking in the same direction as Sherlock was. Sherlock turned to face him, surprised.
"That's my roommate." Sherlock sighed.
"Good luck with that." His dark pupils slid to the side subtly but pointedly, chewing gum and smiling.
Sherlock recognized this person's distinct lack of adherence to societal norms for acquaintances and scanned him. He was about 20, with his hair fashionably and impeccably styled back, wearing a tie under a sweater. A bit formal for the crowd that has gathered, Sherlock thought. But then again, so was he, in a scarf and button-up.
Breaking the short silence, the stranger prompted: "I'm Jim. Studying Mathematics with Mathematical Physics. You?"
"Sherlock. Criminology and Psychology." Sherlock responded. Jim nodded and his eyes went over the length of Sherlock's body quickly.
"Welcome, students to Yorkshire University. I'm sure you'll find yourself a very enriching experience here.."
His T-shirt clad roommate returned to his room hours after he deposited his things, finally realizing what a nuisance they were to carry around, but Sherlock had spent the hours going over his textbooks.
"Make any new friends?" John asked cheerfully as he walked into the room, still radiating some after-effects of too much laughter. Though he had intended the question as more of rhetoric, Sherlock didn't catch it.
"Er. Two." Sherlock replied. He wasn't too sure what the criteria was to earn the title of 'friend' but he had learnt the names of two people since he arrived.
John laughed for a moment, until he noticed the befuddled expression on Sherlock's face and realized that Sherlock was not joking. "Are you serious?" He questioned. Walking closer to Sherlock, he saw the Criminal Justice System textbook in Sherlock's lap and looked strangely at Sherlock. "You're studying," John deduced slowly, "Before Orientation Day." John's mouth was slightly open in disbelief, but the corners of his mouth suggested that there was some amusement in it as well.
"Well it wouldn't make sense to study on Orientation Day, seeing as to how we'd be.. orientating ourselves." Sherlock reasoned, but he was in unfamiliar territory and didn't know how to respond properly. He only feared that his friend counter would stand at one after this conversation.
"And my mother feared my roommate would be a negative influence," John joked. "So who's this other friend?"
"His name's Jim and he studies Mathematics with Mathematical Physics." Sherlock replied, glad that John hadn't judged him.
John let out a low whistle, shaking his head in some kind of admiration. "Quite the brainiac, eh?"
Sherlock frowned. "You're studyi-" Sherlock stopped himself before he revealed any more knowledge of John. "What are you studying?" He corrected himself.
"Biomedical Sciences."
"And that is easy to you?"
"Well, no, but it isn't math."
Sherlock didn't quite understand John's line of reasoning but he took it anyway. "I see."
"Well. We should start unpackin-" John stopped mid-sentence as he noticed that Sherlock had already finished. "I guess I should start unpacking then."
Sherlock smiled and returned to reading his textbook while John fumbled while he unpacked, cursing under his breath whenever he accidentally unfolded a shirt or dropped something.
The next day, Orientation Day, Sherlock woke up at 7am promptly and turned his alarm clock off after it rang softly once. He wondered if he should wake John, as John's alarm clock, though also supposed to go off as 7am, was not set. He contemplated this lightly as he changed into a white button up shirt and dark pants.
"John." Sherlock called as he fastened the last few buttons close to his neck. "John."
He walked over and shook John's shoulder and John squirmed and murmured a soft "Buzz off".
Sherlock decided to set John's alarm clock to a minute from then and let it wake John up. However, John pulled himself up enough only to snooze the alarm. Sherlock frowned slightly, but he decided to let his friend sleep some more.
Hence, after sliding his phone and wallet into his pocket, he headed out to the main grounds for Orientation alone.
Only about half the student population was there and Sherlock didn't know where to start. That is, until an enthusiastic and clipboard-wielding girl came up to him.
"Hello would you like to join Yorkshire's debate team? Here's a pamphlet. As you can see we've gotten many achievements in the past few years and it'd truly be a remarkable experience" She said in one breath.
"I'll.. think about it." Sherlock said as he walked away.
Nothing of interest caught his attention, really. Well, until-
"Where's John?" Jim asked Sherlock nonchalantly, chewing gum yet again. He was clad in a dark jacket over a grey V-neck T-shirt and black pants.
"Possibly still sleeping," Sherlock guessed. Jim snorted.
"Come." His deep voice invited, and motioned for Sherlock to follow..
They spent the next hour going from booth to booth, taking pamphlets and laughing to themselves about how cheesy some of them were.
"Robotics: We Secretly Do Have A Heart" Moriarty dramatized the awful slogan in a mocking tone with wide and expressive hand gestures.
Sherlock chuckled. "Not for me, then." He joked.
"You don't have a heart?" Jim said with slight disbelief, turning to face Sherlock.
"I've been told so." Sherlock shrugged.
"We both know that's not quite true." Jim comforted teasingly.
There was booth after booth, and each had their own selling pitch; be it a slogan or a candy or a Chance To Broaden Your Horizons.
"Anything catch your eye?" Jim asked. Sherlock didn't know why but he had found Jim's voice to have a certain musical tilt to it.
"Well. I can play the violin." Sherlock said as he looked at the college's band club booth. They called themselves The Tunes and their slogan was "We Can Pull A Few Strings."
"Why not? I mean, you can pull a few strings," Jim encouraged with reference to the bad slogan, "Play for me sometime."
"Sure. How about you? Have you seen any you like?" Sherlock asked.
Jim frowned and tightened his lips as if to say "not really". He shook his head.
"Well that's alright. It's not compulsory or anything."
"Sherlock! Why didn't you wake me?" John brisk walked towards Sherlock. His blond hair was rumpled and he was in the midst of wearing his sweater.
"I did. I called you and shook you but you wouldn't wake." Sherlock casually muttered.
"Oh," John said, "Don't hesitate to dump a pail of water over my head next time."
Sherlock wasn't sure whether that was a figure of speech or literal, but he made a mental note to wake John up in the future.
"Will.. do."
"So er," John raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Jim whilst looking at Sherlock.
"Oh! Yes! Sorry. John this is Jim, Jim this is John." Sherlock introduced.
"Hello Jim, I've heard about you." John told his new acquaintance.
"Have you?" Jim asked rhetorically, looking pleased with himself.
"So who's hungry?" Sherlock asked, slightly embarrassed.
"Starving." John replied, oblivious to what was going on.
"I already had breakfast. Catch you later." Jim grinned and stalked away, hands in his pant pockets
"What'd I miss in the first hour of Orientation?" John inquired.
"Nothing, it was absolutely uneventful." Sherlock replied distantly. He wondered why it felt like he had lied.
The first class of the year for Sherlock was Introduction to Criminology. The professor's eyes seemed sharp, piercing even, like she could read people like a book.
"Welcome to An Introduction to Criminology, I'm Ms Avens. I hope all of you do well in this class. What is Criminology? It is the study of the nature, the extent, management and control, not to forget the consequences and prevention of criminal behaviour."
Sherlock sat up straighter.
"You will analyse various social structure theories and debate the mechanisms behind them. The term was coined by an Italian law professor in 1885, Raffaele Garofalo. He believed that.." Ms Aven's clear voice rang throughout the room, managing to keep everyone's attention.
Sherlock listened attentively, typing down notes on his laptop from time to time. Sherlock gathered more skills to add to his already plentiful arsenal of knowledge in the area.
After Ms Avens had ended the lecture, she abruptly made an announcement.
"Oh, and before I forget there's a project for this course at the end of the term. You will be split into different groups and help authorities investigate real crimes. It will constitute a large part of your grade." She finished as students in the class turned to look at her, some already halfway through the door
The class left, the room and hallways filled with indistinct whispers about the project. Some were nervous and uncertain about what the prospect could entail. Others were worried about what it could do to their grade. After all, a term wasn't nearly enough to be an expert in criminology. Sherlock couldn't wait.
Later that day, after all Sherlock's classes had concluded, he headed back to his dorm. Some classes he had enjoyed immensely, like Introduction to Abnormal Psychology, and others he simple endured. He opened his Self and Society textbook and sat on his bed to read it. Perhaps it had been the exhaustion of trying to be awake and attentive for so long, but his while his textbook was wide open, his eyes only grazed the words. He couldn't concentrate.
Out of nowhere, Sherlock's mind conjured up the image of Jim laughing at his jokes. Shocked, he wasn't sure whether to admit to the clear implications of what he just experienced or to ignore it.
Ignore it completely.
But he couldn't help think about the way he never thought accents could be attractive until he heard it roll off Jim's tongue. Or the way Jim could tell Sherlock something he didn't want others to know in their presence. Or the way Jim's smile looked like it held a thousand secrets, and how he would smirk after teasing Sherlock, and snort like...
"Hey Sherlock."
Sherlock's eyes opened wide and his head jerked as if he was involved in anything suspicious before John came in. "Hey John," He managed as convincingly as he could.
"Back to Self and Society," He said with determination to himself.