A/N: Writing this story is more fun than I thought it'd be, and I hope everyone thinks it's fun to read. Reviews are always appreciated, of course, and I'm thankful for those that I receive. If anyone has any ideas of cases or crimes to solve (prompts, maybe?), that'd be really cool to hear. I need some inspiration for the cases to come after the ones Sherlock is taking on now. Anyway, enjoy! Please review!

John is very excited to go to school the next day. He's been grounded less than two days, sure, but on a normal night he would've been at Sherlock's all night. They spend far too much time together to be apart, and their Skype session was not long enough.

He gets up on time to see his mother out, and he remembers that he'd better tell her about staying after school to meet Perry.

"So mum," he starts after she tells him she'll be home by five o'clock. "That reminds me that I'll be late after school."

"Why?"

He decides to lie, figuring she would make him go home right after school if she knew he was really going to be helping Sherlock. "I have to meet my lab partner right after school. In the library, so I'll still be at the school."

"Who is your partner?" she asks. John can tell she wants to know if it's Sherlock.

"Perry Wolf."

Dawn nods. "Well, I guess if you have to. Home right after, ok?"

John nods.

Dawn kisses his forehead, then leaves for work.

John quickly dresses to walk to school, knowing the exact time Sherlock would leave if he walks as well. And John is very pleased when he pauses at their joined corner down the street from the school and sees Sherlock walking down the street towards him.

Sherlock finally clicks send on his phone and closes out his text messenger (texting war with Mycroft, much more important than walking in a straight line. Though, the stupid bike rider should have seen him first, but he's the one who fell off his-). Sherlock finally looks up and sees John leaning against the street sign. His fond, sideways smile he's only ever given Sherlock; the way his body is relaxed, and Sherlock can tell he'd been tense until this moment; the way his eyebrows are perked up even though his eyes are squinted against the sun. Even the color of his golden hair is perfect.

Sherlock longs to run to him and hug him tight.

The memory of the summer after they became best friends flashes through his mind. John's parents had so evilly sent John on holiday to his grandparent's house for five weeks. Sherlock-prior to that time and until his growth spurt a few years ago-had never been so miserable.

"Dad!" he'd yelled as soon as he woke up and checked the calendar. "We've got to go see John! He's back!"

Clement quickly got Sherlock dressed, understanding how urgent this mission was, and held Sherlock's hand as they walked the four blocks to John.

"I should have combed my hair again," Sherlock muttered as they walked down the street.

"It looks perfectly fine, son."

"I should have brought a gift," Sherlock said after that.

"Why would you bring a gift?"

"What if he brought me a gift? That's a bit rude, Daddy."

Clement laughed. "You can make it up to him."

Sherlock took a deep breath as they rounded the corner leading to John's house. John's house was the third on the right, Sherlock remembered, and he quickly grew nervous; baby butterflies sprouted in his still-tiny belly.

As soon as John's house came into view, so did John. He was just as eager as his brunette companion, and he'd been waiting on the lawn since the sun came up. As soon as John spotted him, they ran towards each other and grasped each other so hard they fell onto the neighbor's lawn. A fit of giggles broke their hug, and they'd both fallen onto their backs to gaze at the sky. The neighbor was outside, told Clement to leave them, and they laid there recounting every event of the summer—day by day—until lunchtime.

Now, as then, Sherlock wants to tackle John to the ground and hug him tight. He never realizes how agonizing it is without John until one of them can't be around, and even though it's only been a day, he hates it.

But he doesn't run to John. He smoothly adjusts the bag on his back and walks calmly, as if seeing John isn't even that big a deal. He looks away, gazing at the sky (trying to decide if it'll start raining sooner rather than later), and finally looks back at John as he approaches.

"You're so bad at pretending you're too cool to be happy to see me," John says, a wide grin behind his accusation.

Sherlock looks down at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

John smiles wider, as if that's even possible, and grabs Sherlock's coat lapel to pull him in for a kiss. John thinks it's going to be one of his favorite little kisses, which are the best, but Sherlock surprises him by pressing as close to him as possible and shoving his tongue deep into John's mouth. He places both hands on John's neck and pulls him impossibly closer.

John's moan makes them both pause many seconds later. Sherlock pulls away and presses his forehead against John's.

John licks his lips and clears his throat. "Is that…" he chuckles, "…is that your phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Sherlock, at his usual loss of John's humor, pulls his coat apart and presses against John again. "Both," he mutters, diving in for another kiss.

John groans and grabs Sherlock's hips, mashing his own against Sherlock.

It takes far too long for them to remember they're on a street corner. Finally they do, and they reluctantly pull away. Sherlock closes his eyes and takes many deep breaths, and John rubs his eyes and thinks about something gross like that bloody nose he had a few weeks ago.

"Sorry," Sherlock mumbles once he's relaxed again.

John opens his eyes and smiles again. "Me too, babe."

"I just missed you and—"

"I know," John stops him.

They both take one more deep breath, then take hands to walk the little ways to school together.

John talks to Lily after first period, as they walk to second.

"So, Sherlock's been having this problem too," he says as they walk. "I'm going to find someone who can hack the network."

"I knew these stupid school emails was a bad idea," Lily tells John. "But I guess it's convenient we can only use them here, right? It narrows the, uh…" she waves her hands in a random direction, "The network to search."

"Yeah, maybe," he says. "Any idea of who could be doing this? Anyone you've got problems with?"

Lily shrugs, her curly brown hair bopping against her shoulder. "Oh, I don't know, John!"

John knows that the list of who could be threatening Lily is far and wide, from jealous girls to disgusting boys. Lily is one of the most beautiful girls in their school, even Sherlock has expressed how gorgeous she is. But Lily is really nice, and that's why John is so baffled. She's got a lot of friends and is really kind, and honestly John's a bit upset that someone's being mean to her.

"Well, do you think you can forward me the emails? That way I can get a sense of someone who's doing this while I'm searching for someone who can hack the network. Obviously the school isn't doing shit about cyber bullying."

Lily nods. "I can do that," she says. She takes John in a hug and whispers, "Thank you, John."

John frowns, practically feeling her relief that her problem is going to be solved.

"I'll do my best, ok?" he offers.

She nods as she pulls away, then follows her into their classroom.

John receives her emails during class, and they honestly make him sick. Them "being creepy", as she described them in her original email, is an understatement. They're obviously being sent by a boy, and if John had to pinpoint any group of boys, judging by the way they talk to girls, it'd be Vince and his friends. But he can't really assume, and he feels awful that Lily is receiving these. He can't even bring himself to read more than two. He hopes that when he finds who is doing this gets in some serious trouble, and he really hopes whoever is sending them stays the hell away from Lily.

John feels the need to walk her all the way to her third period class, all the way in a different building than his, to make sure she's safe.

"So, creepy was an understatement," John tells her.

Her pert little nose scrunches and she makes a pained face. "Oh, John…"

"Didn't you tell your parents about this?"

Lily shakes her head. "They, uh, they don't really listen to me much."

John rubs her arm. "Listen to me, ok? Here's my number. If anything comes up, and I really mean anything, you can call me. Seriously, Lily, even if you need someone to walk you home after school or sit with you at the library."

Lily takes the strip of paper with John's number. "This is really sweet and all, but why do you care so much, John?"

"I have a sister. And despite what everyone thinks I care for her a lot. And I just…" he shakes his head. "What I'd do if I found out someone was talking to her like this."

"John, I…" Lily sighs. "I'm afraid I don't…I don't feel…you know…that way…about…" she flicks her large green eyes to him.

"Oh…" he softly says. "Oh, no no no…"

She looks confused.

"No, Lily, I'm…Sherlock and I…we're…"

"Wait," she stops him. "You're gay?!"

He purses his lips. "Uhm, yeah, I…I guess technically…"

She sighs, smiling. "This is honestly a relief, John. You aren't creeping me out or anything, I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea. But it seems I'm getting the wrong idea. Oh god," he rubs her forehead. "This is embarrassing."

He laughs. "Don't worry about it. Just know that I really don't want to see you get hurt, ok? I'll do everything I can for this to be resolved."

Lily nods and hugs him again. He tightly hugs back, and he tells her again to use his number whenever she needs it, even if it's two in the morning and she's at a party. She thanks him many times, then he leaves her to go to his class.

Sherlock decides to talk to Harvey during lunch, so John decides to stay with him rather than eat lunch with Brady. Harvey and John both get a lunch and meet Sherlock on the front steps of the school, but Sherlock doesn't get a lunch. John convinces him to take the apple he'd gotten anyway, so Sherlock shoves it in his coat pocket as Harvey approaches.

"Bloody freezing out here, Holmes," Harvey says, sitting on the concrete hand rail on the stairs.

"Helps me think," Sherlock mutters. "Now, the shoes."

Harvey retells John everything he'd told Sherlock on the phone, which was everything in the email.

"So, were they taken from your gym class?"

Harvey shakes his head and takes a bite of his sandwich. "Nah, man," he says, mouth full. "I don't take gym anymore. They were taken from football practice."

"Someone on the team then, surely," John says.

Sherlock shakes his head. "If they were gone by the time Harvey returned to them, it couldn't have been anyone on the team. They were obviously practicing with him."

"I thought that too, little dude," Harvey tells John.

John scowls. Sure, Harvey's frame is an unusual eight inches taller than John's, and Harvey's a year older than them, but little dude is entirely unnecessary.

"Where did you leave them during practice?" Sherlock asks Harvey.

"In the locker room. I always leave them there. I don't have a locker in there, though, because I don't take gym, so I have to rely on leaving them in my bag on the bench."

Sherlock nods. "Did you do anything differently with them that day?"

Harvey taps his chin in thought. "You know what? I did. Yeah, it rained that day, right? So I'd been stepping in puddles and mud, so I had to leave my shoes on the floor under the bench. They were too dirty to put in my bag."

"So, easy to steal," John says.

"Could have been anyone," Sherlock adds.

"One more thing," Harvey says. "My practice, the day they were stolen, was the late six o'clock practice. And I know that day the other teams that had practice at six o'clock were the lacrosse and the track teams."

John and Sherlock look at each other.

"Easy to narrow down the list then," John says.

Sherlock nods in agreement.

"I'll get a list of each team by the end of school," John says.

"Are you going to be able to talk to Perry with me?"

John nods. "And I'm still trying to find someone who can help Lily's problem."

"What's going on with Lily?" Harvey curiously asks.

They ignore him.

"I still don't know why you insist on taking that case, John. You don't even know how it'll be resolved."

"You'd care more if you saw the emails she's been receiving."

"Emails?" Harvey asks.

Again, they ignore him.

"Where are you even going to find someone to hack the network, John? Is it possible to find out who's sending anonymous emails?"

"If there is a way to send anonymous emails, there's gotta be a way to find out."

Harvey tries again. "It is possible—"

"Like I said, John, what's going to happen if you find out who's been doing these things? You tell the school, 'hey, I got someone to hack the network so punish the bullies and not the kid who hacked the network—'"

John stands up straighter, getting as tall as he can and as much into Sherlock's personal space as he can. "Well, maybe if I had a little support from one of the cyber bullying victims, we'd be able to take this on together—"

"Uh, guys..."

Sherlock does the same, placing his hands on his hips and broadening his chest to seem bigger. "I keep telling you I don't care about—"

John steps forward, his chest bumping Sherlock's. "And I keep telling you that I do—"

"Dudes!" Harvey shouts, getting their attention. "Either make out or listen to me."

Sherlock and John blink, blush, and take a step back. They both turn to Harvey.

"I can hack the network," he tells them, taking his laptop out of his bag. "I do it all the time."

Sherlock and John glance at each other. Harvey is not anyone they'd have ever thought to be someone who could do more than kick a football and smoke behind the buildings between classes. They step over to Harvey and peer over his shoulder as he types away.

In seconds, he's in the school's email network. The network, every student knows, is a dumb idea. They're useless because every kid has their own personal email address anyway, but these emails allow them to use the wifi at school and allow teachers to assign online exams and assignments. It really is easier, but when this is happening, it's not such a good idea.

"What d'ya wanna know?" Harvey asks, taking a cigarette out of his pocket.

Sherlock looks down at Harvey's cigarette and John glares at Sherlock. Sherlock rolls his eyes and looks back at the computer screen.

"Uhm, can you get into Sherlock's work emails?"

"Sure," Harvey says, typing away. A second later, they've got Sherlock's emails in front of them. "I'm assuming these are them," he says, clicking on the anonymous emails.

"Can you decode the anonymous, uh…filter?" John asks.

Harvey nods and lights his cigarette. Sherlock looks at it and bites his lip. John smacks his arm.

Harvey types for longer minutes now, silently taking drags of his cigarette between new screens.

"K," Harvey mutters.

Sherlock lunges forward, suddenly 'curious'. He stops his face right next to Harvey's and inhales the smoke flowing from Harvey's cigarette.

"Looks like there's one from 'vhlax6'. Who's that?"

"VHLAX?"

The three boys are quiet, each trying to figure out what the letters mean, and suddenly Harvey claps his hands together.

"V H LAX. Lacrosse. Vince Hawkins lacrosse. He's number 6."

John and Sherlock both nod in agreement.

"Well, there's no surprise there," Sherlock says.

"That prick give you a hard time, Sherlock?" Harvey asks, continuing to type on the computer.

Sherlock nods.

"He used to beat me up when we were kids," Harvey tells him. "One day, I punched him right in the nose. I just got tired of it. He left me alone ever since."

"You're suggesting I punch him?" Sherlock asks.

Harvey shakes his head. "Nah man. Use your head."

Sherlock eyes him, unsure of what he means, but the bell ringing gets his attention.

"Let me look into the rest of these," Harvey says, packing his computer. "My match was cancelled this evening, so I'll be done with them by this evening. But if I don't call you, I'll hand over the list tomorrow."

"Thanks, Harvey," John says, shaking his hand.

Harvey puts his cigarette out and Sherlock stares at it longingly.

"See ya, little dudes," Harvey says, ruffling Sherlock's long hair.

Sherlock scowls and pushes his hair out of his eyes. John laughs and helps.

They stay on the steps a few minutes longer.

"That was pointless," Sherlock says.

"No, we learned of one of the bullies."

"They're probably all Vince."

John shrugs. "Maybe not, babe."

Sherlock sighs.

John takes him in a hug. "Come on, time for class."

Sherlock just nods and follow John back into the school.