A/N: Hello and thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the next few chapters (And of course the ones after). Thanks for reading, please review!

John is eager to find Sherlock at school the day after the case is solved. He knows Sherlock will be in a wonderful mood, and he never wants to waste that.

He walks into the school with Brady and plans to find Sherlock before their first class begins, but he's surprised to see Sherlock standing at the large bulletin board near the entrance to the school. Brady tells John they'll talk later, knowing he wants to be with Sherlock, and John silently walks up behind Sherlock.

Then he chuckles because Sherlock is arguing with a stapler.

"Come on, you piece of shit," Sherlock mutters under his breath. "Just fucking-"

John grabs the stapler from him and opens it so it's flat.

"Oh," Sherlock sighs, taking it back from John.

"What on earth are you doing?" John asks, still laughing.

"I'm-" he pauses to grunt as he mashes the stapler to the board. "I'm starting a business."

John reads the paper Sherlock just stuck. "Sherlock Holmes Detective Agency. What?"

"My dad saw how happy I was about the case yesterday, so he suggested I offer help to kids who need it."

John continues reading the ad, "Solves theft, vandalism, murder-" John instantly pauses. "Sherlock, you can't offer to solve murder!"

"Why not? I solved one yesterday."

John shakes his head and takes a pen out of his bag, then crosses out 'murder'.

Sherlock sighs and staples another paper to the board. "I opened up a new email account for this. I'd like you to help."

"Help? How?"

Sherlock shrugs. "You helped the other night."

John cracks a smile. "I did, didn't I?"

Sherlock can't help but laugh at his smug tone. "Yes, you did," he agrees. "Which is why I need you. Honestly, without your concern for my warmth, I wouldn't have figured it out."

John soothingly rubs his arm. "Well, that's just nature, I suppose. I want to take care of you."

"And you can," Sherlock tells him. "By helping me."

"Alright," John agrees. "What do you want me to do?"

Sherlock turns around in the hall to walk to class with John right next to him. He tells John about how he'll help with the things he's not so good at, like people skills. John's much better with people than Sherlock is.

Sitting in first period, Sherlock decides to check the email account to see if anyone's seen the fliers. He's extremely surprised when he sees there's one email.

When he opens it, he frowns and his stomach knots. It's from an unknown email, and it just says "FREAK!" in big, black letters. Sherlock disappointedly signs out, thinking that perhaps this was a horrible idea.

He doesn't tell John about the email, but decides to check again in second period. There isn't a new one, but throughout the class he gets a notification that there is one. He opens up the email to see nearly the same thing: "LOSER!" typed out in big, black letters.

He frowns and closes the email. Throughout the class, his phone vibrates with four more emails, all of which he assumes say the same things the others say. Each time his phone notifies him, he frowns deeply and his stomach turns.

"That's it," John says as they exit second period and Sherlock frowns again. "Give me your damn phone."

"What? John—"

"I knew this was a bad idea. Now those arseholes have a way to get to you without actually having to see you, Sherlock. This is cyber bullying, and I won't stand for it."

Sherlock adjusts the bag on his back and stands up straighter. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"Remember when we were ten and I knocked you off the monkey bars because you told me Prince William would never be my best friend?"

Sherlock instinctively grabs the back of his head where the scar from the stitches are. "Yeah…"

"I will not hesitate to do much worse."

Sherlock glares at him, tries to figure out if he's bluffing, can't figure it out, then hands over the phone.

"Wise decision," John says. "I'm changing the password on the account, that way you can't get in it. And don't you dare think about hacking it, mister."

Sherlock continues to glare down at his bossy boyfriend. "Fine."

John turns to walk down the hall to their next class. "You'll get this back when I'm done."

The hall is nearly empty, and they're about to be late to class, but Sherlock stops him. "John," he softly says.

"What?"

Sherlock stops walking. "They hurt my feelings, John."

John immediately stops and his face grows softer. "I know, love," he whispers, taking Sherlock in his arms and hugging him tight.

Sherlock wraps his arms around John's neck and rubs his cheek against the side of John's head. The bell rings but they don't move; Sherlock just wants to feel better.

"You ok?" John asks after many long minutes.

Sherlock nods.

John barely pulls away, leaving himself with enough room to kiss Sherlock lightly. "I love you, ok? Don't listen to those stupid bastards. You are brilliant and everyone who doesn't think so is stupid."

"Everyone is stupid," Sherlock says. He looks into John's eyes. "Except you."

John smiles. "I'm glad. If I was, I don't think you'd have kept me around this long."

Sherlock turns towards their class and grabs John's hand as he begins to walk. "You were stupid at first, I have to admit."

John laughs. "I was?"

"Yes! For about a month you kept chasing around Olivia when I didn't want to play."

"And that was stupid?" John questions.

"Of course it was. You were mine, even from the start."

John smiles and kisses Sherlock's hand. "Well, I'm glad I learned."

"Me too, John," Sherlock says, kissing John's hand back.

John gets the password to the email account changed during their third class and returns Sherlock's phone afterwards. He tells Sherlock that he will be forwarded any case that seems worthy of Sherlock's time, and they relay hopes that they get at least one.

John continues to receive very mean and rude emails all day. They hurt him knowing this is what Sherlock goes through on a daily basis, but he's glad he took it away from Sherlock, at least this much. Each time Sherlock asks if he's gotten any emails, John lies and says the bully finally laid off, even though he truthfully receives four or more emails per class period.

John finally just ignores them, knowing that getting angry won't solve anything.

Finally, during the last class of the day, John gets an email from an actually address, not a blocked source.

From jennadarling: Dear Sherlock, I was nervous writing this email but your fliers seem genuine, so I hope you can help. I've lost the earrings my father gave me for my birthday, but I think they've been stolen. They're blue and in the shape of butterflies, and they're actually quite expensive. I take them off every gym period and put them in my locker, but yesterday they were gone when I went to retrieve them. I have a few ideas of who could have stolen them, but I can't confront anyone without evidence. So please, Sherlock, I'd really appreciate the help. Signed, Jenna Darling from your fifth period math class.

John smiles as he reads he email. He knows Jenna, he knows she's a really nice girl who wouldn't be playing any tricks on Sherlock. He's about to forward the message to Sherlock when the bell rings, so instead he rushes out to tell Sherlock as they walk home.

Twenty minutes later, they're finally at Sherlock's house and already discussing the case.

"This is brilliant, John. Missing earrings can't be that difficult, and she's already got leads. This is perfect."

John smiles, watching Sherlock pace his bedroom. "I have Jenna's mobile number if you'd like to text her."

Sherlock suddenly pauses and pierces John with a suspicious glare. "Why do you have Jenna's mobile number?"

John rolls his eyes. "Because, unlike you, I talk to a lot of people. Jenna, in particular, was my lab partner last term, if you must know. Do you want it or not?"

Sherlock nods and tries not to show John how helpful this is.

Sherlock gets in touch with Jenna and she agrees to meet them at a café near their school at four o'clock.

When they arrive, Sherlock ignores her hugging John and tells them to shut up because it's time to get to work.

"Basically, you know what's happening from my email," Jenna says. She holds up a picture on her phone. "These are them. I only had them for two weeks. I haven't even told my dad they're lost because he'd be furious."

"You say lost," Sherlock says, "But you said you have suspects?"

"Yeah," she agrees. "A lot of girls say they like them, and a lot of people have asked how much they cost. That's not unusual, people often ask me how much my possessions cost, but this time it was different."

"How so?" John asks.

"Well," Jenna continues, "Some girls kept saying things like, 'Do you know what I could buy with that money?' and 'You could spend that money on something actually useful, not a lousy pair of earrings.' Nobody's ever said those things before. And one girl, Christina Hamilton, was really specific on what she could buy. Anyway, that's not much to go on, but I really have a feeling it was her."

"That's a lot to go on, actually," John says. "That's…well it's got to be motive, right Sherlock?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "Motive would be a reason for her to steal them. Have you had problems with her before?"

Jenna shakes her head and bites her lip. "No, she's always been pretty nice to me, but speaking of motive, I know her mum was just laid off and her dad hasn't been in the picture for a while. And she was saying she could buy things like shoes and clothes for her sisters. What do you think of that?"

"I think that's a reason to steal some pricey earrings," Sherlock says, standing. "We'll keep in touch, Jenna. I promise to have your earrings before seven days."

She follows him up. "You mean it, Sherlock?"

"I certainly hope so," Sherlock says, slipping on his coat.

"Oh, thank you!" Jenna cries, going around the table and throwing her arms around him.

"Oh…" he mutters.

John laughs. "See you around, Jenna."

Jenna lets Sherlock go and politely hugs John, then tells them goodbye as they leave.

"So," John starts as they're walking down the street. "What'd'ya think?"

"I think I need to talk to Christina before I make any accusations," Sherlock tells him.

"But…Jenna said—"

"I know what Jenna said, John. But I can't just go around accusing someone because of hearsay. I need evidence, I need facts. And I need you to talk to Christina."

"Me? Why me?"

"What, like I can easily approach anyone and have a nice conversation?" Sherlock sarcastically asks. "I need you to talk to her about…I don't know, pretend to notice her shoes or something. Ask if they're new. Get her to talk about money."

John nods. "Alright. I'll do it tomorrow during first period."

Sherlock smiles and slings an arm around John's shoulders. "This is fun, isn't it?"

John wraps his arm around Sherlock's waist. "It definitely is, love."

At home, Sherlock tells Clement about meeting Jenna. He tells his dad about the case, and Clement agrees with John that it sounds like Christina did it.

"We don't know that," Sherlock tells him. "I just need—"

"More facts, I know," Clement says, picking up his plate to talk to the kitchen. "I'm proud of you, son." He steps around the table behind Sherlock and kisses his head.

Sherlock scowls and attempts to wipe the kiss away like a toddler.

John beams at him.

Clement disappears into the kitchen and John's smile fades.

"Tell your dad about the other emails."

"No," Sherlock simply states, already knowing that John was going to say that.

"Do it or I will, I still have them."

"I don't care, John. Telling my dad about anonymous emails isn't going to solve anything."

"At least he'll know. He said to tell him if anything happens."

"Nothing is happening, John."

"Tell him."

Sherlock glares at him. "No."

John glares back. "Do it or I will."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"I suggest you two stop fighting and tell me what you don't want me to hear!" Clement calls from the kitchen.

John sits back and smugly smiles.

Sherlock sticks his tongue out at him.

Clement appears out of nowhere, it seems, and flicks Sherlock in the head.

"Ow!" Sherlock cries.

Clement takes his seat at the table once again. "Now, what is it you need to share?"

John takes the phone out and opens up the emails before Sherlock can lie. "Sherlock's received a bunch of bullying emails on the new work email he set up. I changed the password so he can't see them, but…" John passes the phone over to Clement.

Clement's eyes grow wide as he scrolls. "Son…"

"It's fine, Dad."

"To hell it's fine," John retorts.

"John's right, son. This is not ok. I'm going to the school tomorrow to complain."

"And what are they going to do?"

"Find who's been doing this."

"They stopped once school let out," John tells him. "So, the emails came from our school's wifi server. They could surely track them, right?"

"Probably," Clement agrees. "Excellent idea, John."

Sherlock glares at him.

"I'll figure this out, ok son?"

Sherlock slowly shifts his gaze to his father. "Ok, Dad."

"Good. Now," Clement stands from the table again. "I've got to go to the grocery store. I'm sure you don't care to join, so I'll be back in a while. John, eight o'clock, alright?"

John nods. "Yes, sir."

Clement smiles at both of the boys, then leaves the room.

Once Clement is out of the house, they boys race up to Sherlock's bedroom.

"Just over an hour," John says, grabbing Sherlock by the hips and pulling the taller boy to him. "What could we do for an hour?"

"I have a few ideas, but I'm sure they're not the same ideas you have."

John chuckles. "I doubt it." He pulls Sherlock closer and kisses him lightly.

Sherlock pulls John over to his bed and sits him on the edge. He sits close, his hip mashed against John's, and pulls John in for dizzying kiss after kiss.

"I've wanted nothing more than to be close to you since Saturday, Sherlock."

Sherlock hums against John's neck.

John's hands begin to roam Sherlock's body, one tracing up his thigh and one rubbing his back. Sherlock kisses John neck, making John's breathing uneven and causing him to moan more than once.

They kiss and touch for minutes until finally John is ready to push Sherlock over and take his trousers off. He reaches for the button, but as he's about to undo his jeans, Sherlock jumps up with a pained grunt.

"What?" John frantically questions. "I'm sorry, Sherlock, I just—"

"It's not you, John. It's the case."

"The case?"

"I can't stop thinking about it, John. My brain…it won't shut off. What if I can't find them, John? I can't disappoint Jenna, she's my first client, she's trusting me, she's—"

John stands and grabs Sherlock's arms. "Sherlock, relax," he soothes. "Jenna knows there's not a one hundred percent guarantee that you can find them."

"But John," Sherlock sighs, "I promised…"

John sideways smiles at him. "God, you're cute. I know you did, love, but she knows. We don't have to do anything," he motions to Sherlock's bed, "But I do just…I want to be near you. Is that ok?"

Sherlock slowly nods. "It might help."

John smiles and takes his hand. "Come on, I have an idea."

They go downstairs into the great sitting room. John gets a blanket and lays it on the floor in front of the fireplace that Clement left burning.

"Come here," he instructs, laying on the floor. He arranges Sherlock next to him so he can cradle Sherlock close. "How's this?"

Sherlock snuggles deep into John's arms. "Perfect."

John doesn't say anything more, just begins to rub Sherlock's head in a soothing way.

Clement returns before eight. The house is quiet and dark, and he quickly grows angry thinking the boys are up in Sherlock's bedroom.

He's about to call for them, but then he spots them on the floor of the sitting room, John holding Sherlock close as they lightly snore in front of the fire.

He can't help but smile, the sight warming his heart. "Alright, John," he whispers, grabbing another blanket to throw on top of them. "One more hour, that's it."

Clement ends up letting them stay on the floor nearly all night, only waking them before midnight. He lets John sleep in the spare bedroom next to Sherlock's, and John is pleased to be sleeping that close to Sherlock.

Both boys easily fall asleep after Clement moves them, both happy to still be close enough to one another.