A/N: I hope this story is going well. Hope you're all enjoying! Thanks for reading, please review!
Clement gets Sherlock's classes changed the very next day. Sherlock insists it won't make a difference, but John insists that it will help immensely. Not to mention, he's very excited about having Sherlock in more classes.
"Alright," Clement says as they exit the counselor's office. "Son, you needto tell me when things happen, ok? I had no idea about the detention you had to serve last month."
"It was her fault, Dad. She shouldn't have purposefully hit me with her purse."
"Either way, son," Clement tells him, "Sometimes you have a very poor way of handling things. Anyway, we'll talk more later. Don't forget that Mycroft is picking you up after school."
Sherlock groans.
"He said he's got a gift for you, because of what happened yesterday."
Sherlock nods, but frowns.
Clement pats his shoulder, then takes him in a hug. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Sherlock. And I highly doubt John does either."
Just then, as if on cue, John quickly rounds the corner. He nearly trips as his shoes slide on the floor, and Sherlock and Clement pull apart laughing.
"Speak of the devil," Clement mutters.
"Good, I thought I'd missed you," John says as he approaches them. "How'd it go?"
Sherlock holds up his new schedule and John punches the air in excitement. Sherlock smiles widely as he and John high-five.
"You boys," Clement says, beaming at them. He claps his hands together and announces that he's got to get home. "I'll see you boys later. Sherlock, don't forget about Mycroft. I'll be out all evening, so I'll ask him to feed you dinner."
Sherlock rolls his eyes.
Clement chuckles and hugs him. "Be nice and I'll make you macaroni and cheese tomorrow night."
Sherlock perks up.
Clements smiles, then hugs John, then leaves.
Sherlock and John walk down the empty hall towards Sherlock's locker to retrieve his literature book.
"So," John says, "What's this thing with Mycroft?"
"I don't know; he just wants to see me this afternoon. He's got some sort of gift for me."
"How long do you suppose that's going to take?"
Sherlock shrugs. "All night, I suppose, if I'm to have dinner with him."
"You think perhaps you could get out of it? Say you're having dinner with me?"
"Why?" Sherlock asks, closing his locker and leaning on it to talk to John.
"My mum's got work and Harry's going to be out. I thought we could have some alone time."
Sherlock grins. "What do you have in mind?"
"I don't know," John says, pressing up to kiss Sherlock lightly. "Guess you'll just have to come over to find out."
Sherlock smiles wider and follows John down the hall.
Sherlock leaves the school with Mycroft after ten minutes of reasoning with him and waving a package gift wrapped with purple paper in front of his face.
"I wasn't going to give this to you until we arrived home," Mycroft says through the window, "but seeing as you need incentive to get in the car, here."
Sherlock eyes him and takes the package. Obviously it's something made of paper, perhaps a book or a very large magazine. "What is it?"
"Get in and I'll tell you."
Curiousity causes Sherlock to get in. They silently ride through town while Sherlock stares at the package on his lap. Mycroft says he can't open it until they're home.
"I'm taking you to my house," Mycroft says as they pass the turn leading to Sherlock's home. "There's more evidence there."
Sherlock quickly looks at Mycroft. "Evidence?"
Mycroft sighs and pulls out his mobile phone. "PC Lestrade has asked for your help once again. I thought the timing was impeccable because of yesterday's events, I figure it was fair to employ your assistance."
Sherlock excitedly touches the package. "Big file," he observes.
Mycroft grins. "I'll explain more when we arrive home."
John eagerly cleans up his disheveled bedroom and makes the bed. He doesn't know what the evening will hold, but he really hopes to be intimate with Sherlock once again.
He's about to get in the shower, wanting to be as clean as possible for Sherlock, when he receives a text message from Sherlock.
From Sherlock Holmes: I won't make it this evening. Sorry. –SH
John sighs, disappointed. He can't help but be upset by Sherlock cancelling on him, but he knows that whatever Sherlock is doing is more important.
To Sherlock Holmes: It's ok. Don't kill your brother. I love you. xo
He doesn't get a reply, which is alright. He gets ready once again and decides to invite Brady and the guys over for pizza and video games.
Sherlock and Mycroft arrive at Mycroft's house. Sherlock flies out of the car and up the stairs, very enthusiastically.
"I don't believe you've ever been so happy to be here," Mycroft says, opening the front door.
Sherlock rushes in. "You've never been this interesting before."
Mycroft can't help but smile.
Sherlock throws his coat over the sofa and sits at the kitchen island. He rips the package open. Sure enough, it's a very large case file. He opens to the first page to begin.
"It's a…a murder…" Sherlock sounds, astonished. He looks at Mycroft with bright eyes. "Myc, you got me a murder?"
Mycroft nods and begins to tell Sherlock about the case.
It's the murder of a thirty-two-year-old man. His body was found in a dumpster behind Tesco two nights ago. The peculiar thing is that there was no rough play, no wounds, and he didn't die of natural causes.
"Poison, surely," Sherlock mutters as Mycroft tells him that part.
"If it was that simple, would I even let you read the case?"
Sherlock looks up at him and grins. "I suppose not."
"Lestrade will be here later this evening," Mycroft tells him. "Will you be finished by tonight?"
Sherlock absentmindedly nods while standing from the island. "I'll be in my room," he says, going towards the stairs.
Sherlock's in his bedroom in Mycroft's flat all evening. He ignores two phone calls from his dad, three text messages from John, and dinner. He hears Lestrade arrive, then leave, and doesn't even wonder what time it is.
He finally checks his phone around three in the morning as he's changing into pajamas. He decides he'll get a few hours sleep and pretend to be too sick to go to school. He can surely solve it in the morning, all he needs is a few hours rest.
He reads the three texts first.
From John Watson: What's going on?
Two hours later:
From John Watson: I'm actually pretty worried, Sherlock. Are you ok? Is everyone alright? Please let me know, I'm getting more and more worried by the minute.
Half an hour after that:
From John Watson: Alright, I called your dad. He said Mycroft gave you a case. Sorry I stressed, love. I'll see you tomorrow. Do well, I'm proud of you no matter what.
He smiles as he pulls a t-shirt on and checks the voicemail message from Clement.
"Could you let John know what you're doing every once in a while? The poor boy's worried sick. I'm assuming you're spending the night at Mycroft's so I won't expect you home. Your mum's gone to Munich for a week, so I suppose I'll be home alone this evening. Love you. Call John."
Sherlock disregards the time of night and does as his father told him; he dials John's number and sits against the window.
"Sherlock?" John groggily answers. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah," Sherlock says, "I just…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called."
"No, no, I'm glad to hear from you," John says, more alert. "How's the case?"
"I haven't solved it yet," Sherlock says, then goes on to give John details about the case even though Mycroft told him not to.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out, babe."
Sherlock's stomach flutters. John very rarely calls Sherlock pet names as such, but the few times that it's happened, Sherlock melts. He dreamily presses his head against the window and looks down at the street below.
"Go to bed, Sherlock. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I will," he replies, shivering at the contact of the window. "It's quite cold, it's a good thing I forgot your sweatshirt here last week. I'm sorry I ruined your plans for the evening."
"It's ok," John says, yawning loudly. "Put on my sweatshirt and get warm. Don't freeze to death tonight. It's the coldest evening in the city so far, but I thought it was pretty fucking cold starting like two weeks ago."
Sherlock chuckles and looks out the window once again. On the street there's a couple bundled close together wearing heavy coats.
"Wait," he suddenly pauses. "What'd you just say?"
"Wh-about the weather? I said it was pretty cold already but apparently this evening is—"
"No, before that. John, that's it!"
"What's it?"
"Freezing to death! We just solved a murder!"
John gasps. "I'm so confused."
"No foul play, no wounds, he didn't die of natural causes. There wasn't poison or drugs, so that has to be it! He froze to death!"
John chuckles. "Well done, Sherlock!"
"And you, John. I should've called you sooner. Go back to sleep, I've got to write this all down."
"See you tomorrow. I love you!"
"I love you too!" Sherlock says, then hangs up.
He opens up the email app on his phone and writes Lestrade a quick email. When he's finished, he cleans up the evidence and packs the file Mycroft gave him, then gets John's sweatshirt and goes to bed.
He wakes up shockingly refreshed after only three hours of sleep. He's so excited to tell Mycroft about it that he's up by six, when Mycroft wakes up.
He's waiting on the sofa when Mycroft leaves his bedroom for coffee. Mycroft shouts in surprise, not expecting to see Sherlock, then he sighs and listens while Sherlock tells him what he found, he evens continues to listen as Sherlock follows him into the bathroom to dress.
Sherlock doesn't try to stay home from school, he excitedly gets ready and lets Mycroft give him a ride. Mycroft thanks him and tells him Lestrade will be calling later that afternoon, then Sherlock runs out of the car to John.
They spend their time before school starts around the corner to talk about the case. John watches him, knowing this is the happiest Sherlock has been in weeks. Sherlock talks so wildly that his arms move with each exclamation, and it's often. John is just so happy to see him this excited.
When he arrives home that afternoon, Sherlock tells Clement all about it. Clement is just as happy as John is that Sherlock is so happy. Clement does as promised, makes Sherlock macaroni and cheese, and Sherlock is even more happy.
After dinner, Sherlock and John sit at the couch to watch television while Clement works, and Sherlock falls asleep quickly. He rests his head on John's lap and John strokes his hair; in minutes he's out.
Clement lets Sherlock sleep on John for a while, but once it's time for John to go, he shimmies out from under Sherlock and gets his coat. He goes back to Sherlock, kisses his forehead, and leaves. Clement leaves Sherlock on the sofa to catch up on the sleep he'd missed.