The movie was... Adequate. I preferred the book of course but the film did a good job of encompassing most of the plot. I pondered the movie (I decided that the soundtrack was quite good) for a while after the credits ended. John was asleep on my shoulder and the laptop quickly followed him into a dreamless sleep.

I knew it was not go that I decided to go through with the plan without him, but after calculating the chances of my being hurt I did not want to risk it.

It was a peculiar feeling - this caring and forethought directed toward another human being. I could sense the feelings reflected back to me. I was still in a state of mild shock from the first time I realized that my John was unique. The feeling could be described as such: Impending Doom. I have always had a problem accepting the good things that happen to me. From a young age, the reality that I was not going to be socially accepted at all was repeatedly drilled into me from multiple sources. As soon as I got anything new I expected it to rip or break. Kind smiles from strangers were not going to repeat themself if they got to know me. Social interaction with anyone would indubitably end awkwardly and most likely with the other party being offended.

The first exception to this rule of my life had been my violin. It had been a constant companion, acting as my inanimate best friend since childhood much like most people regarded their first teddy bear. It never judged me when I got note wrong, broke a string or ignored it for weeks. It was a constant.

The second was Mrs. Hudson. Yes, the nice, old landlady stuck in a job in this wretched place. She was infallible, an unflappable pillar holding up a corner of my existence here. Mrs. Hudson had mothered me more than my own mother had, bringing me food "she cooked too much of" and making sure I had clean sheets and the like. St. Bart's would fall without her.

The third was currently drooling on my shoulder wrapped up in a too-large and very loved oatmeal jumper. John Watson: The Enigma. The only exception I had no realistic explanation for. The violin was inanimate; it did not care what I did. Mrs. Hudson was denied children by her abusive ex-husband and saw me as a project, albeit one that she truly cared for. John, however, had every right to be personally offended by my presence at least twenty times within the first week of knowing him. My John was a clichéd miracle that existed only in books and the like. My John existed at a point of imperfection so great that he was perfect. My John was waking up.

"Flerrrmnuh?" he mumbled.

"Shhhhh," I said quietly. "Go back to sleep."

He complied.

"That's completely unwarranted and unnecessary!"

"No it is not a 'petty prank' as you so put it!"

"What possessed your tiny little mind to believe that-!"

"I will not!"

"Just speak to my brother then! I understand that you are on edge from petty relationship problems and that you are under the gun for a promotion soon - it would do you good to listen to someone smarter than yourself!"

I ended the call. If I am to have frequent contact with the police I'll need a reliable and trusted source within the Met, which is why I was nice on the phone with that officer from the hospital. His private number proved fruitful in building a relationship.

I turned from the end of my pacing area and noticed John was awake.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Lestrade. Irrelevant. The matter has been resolved." I moved closer to him and flopped onto the bed beside him. He was warm. "Bored."

"Seriously? Well if you're bored then I have something to keep you occupied."

I looked up expectantly. "You are either wanting me to snog or have questions. I'll agree to both. Which first?"

He smiled and shook his head. Oh his smile... "Neither," he said. "First is bathroom. I need to shower. Then food. Lots of food."

I sighed. "Food is boring."

He got up and tossed my book at me on his way to the shower under the presumption that it would hold my interest for the copious amount of time he was to spend away from me. I pouted.

Forty-three point seven minutes and the last half of the book (damn him) later, he returned with a plate of toast and started to make tea for us.

"Not hungry."

"Don't buy it," he replied. "Can you grab the jam from my desk? There should be just enough left. Mycroft neglected to pick up my groceries after he kidnapped me."

Ah, the questions first. I supplied him with the jar and took a more alert position on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, about that. I will not say that I am sorry for involving him, but he could have handled it more politely."

"Damn straight he could've!" John handed me toast and tea, which I reluctantly started consuming. "His lackeys practically tackled me into the car."

I made a mental note to speak to my brother about that. My distaste for the situation must have shown on my face by John's look. "It will be dealt with," I said.

He sighed, a common occurrence around me, and went back to his toast.

"Okay, questions first."

He thought for a bit. "I really only have one. How did you positively know who beat up Harrison? I know he was bullied here, but it could have been anyone in the city."

My John, asking the smart questions. I smiled and began pacing.

"I solved two cases through my investigations regarding the beating of Harrison. My initial suspicions of the Trio came from observing Harrison's recent treatment here at school. As you know, we was evicted from the team and publicly humiliated more than once because of the bullying surrounding his homosexuality. It was not his choice to 'come out,' but instead a direct reason to bully him.

Who told the Trio of his secret? I doubted that many people knew here, as word would have gotten around sooner. So it was narrowed down to his closest friends - none of which were on the team to begin with. Only one of the three people he kept in his close circle had visited him in the hospital and had been privy to information from his family. Follow me so far?"

John nodded in concentration. "Erm, Molly Hooper?"

"Exactly John! Molly Hooper had her diary stolen prior to the incidents directly related to Derek Harrison, her best friend. Of course she did not intentionally tell anyone his deepest secret, but had written her thoughts about it in her childish journal. A journal that no doubt her roommate had seen and wanted to steal because of Molly's relationship with Harrison."

"What would make Sally do that?" John interrupted.

"Oh, John, the same thing that motivates all teens in one way or another - hormones! She was attracted to Harrison and was angry at the rejections he undoubtedly put upon her. She had seen Molly with him and wanted not only to see if Miss Hooper was in a relationship with him but also to find any dirt on him that her idiot friends could use against him. It was her who told the Idiots of his secret. Thus the mystery of why Molly's journal was stolen solved."

"Brilliant," John said. I smiled and continued my story.

"But how did I know the Trio was the party responsible for Harrison's injuries? Besides their prior bully-victim relationship making that attack more realistic, I gathered all I needed to know from the visit we paid to Harrison. His bruises were inflicted by three distinct people, which pointed to the Trio. His possessions were still with him, pointing to a motive other than robbery. His hair smelled of - don't give me that look John - cigarettes and alcohol. The smoke was of a distinct brand used by - you guessed it - the Trio. While Harrison was indeed in the wrong place at the wrong time, the intent of the Trio was planned - it just happened to occur on that night."

John was gaping like a fish. "You're telling me that you can differentiate between cigarettes based on their smoke?"

I scrunched up my face. "Of course John."

He let out a laugh. "You're absolutely brilliant, you know that right?"

I was saved from answering redundantly by my phone ringing. Lestrade.

"Yes?"

"I told you that."

"Of course I was right!"

"You have my number. We will be in contact I am sure."

Another flick of the phone and the call disconnected. "Lestrade just informed me that Derek Harrison has officially given his statement and it matched my findings."

"Brilliant!" John said what was quickly becoming his favorite word. "That joined with the evidence you got him should get those Idiots what they deserve."

He pulled me into a hug that drug me back into the bed with him.

"I assume part two of the morning shall begin?"

He giggled and pulled me closer to him. "Of course."