fandomhigh | Library [08/29]

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Library [08/29]

Jonothon had been in desperate need of the familiar today, and waking up this morning to realize that the person who was sleeping in Jak's bed was most definitely not Jak had been jolt enough to spur him into actually getting to his feet of his own accord, pulling on his cleanest dirty clothing, and making his way down to the library today for his shift.

That he was now moving through the stacks like a man possessed, looking over the course calendar for the semester and setting out displays of books that he thought other students might find topical to each and every class... That was something else. Now that he'd immersed himself in the familiar, he was hell-bent on not letting himself think too hard about why he'd needed it so badly.

The library was open, and was possibly almost too ready to face students new and old.

[The library, it is open.]

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"Me?" William gaped at the man who'd just pointed at him, and not... nope, not anyone beside him or behind him.

"No, the invisible man behind you," Sherlock snapped. "Yes you."

"But- all right," William conceded, going to gather the books. Somewhere, George Crabtree was feeling extremely smug about this turn of events. "What is it you're studying?" he couldn't help but ask.

And somewhere, John Watson was sighing and thinking Sherlock really did need a babysitter.

"The island," he said, pulling out his mobile to look up more periodicals for the history. "What else?"

"Scientific advancements," William replied promptly. "Medical research." He gave Sherlock a once-over, noted the style of dress, and then shook his head. "Although I suppose you wouldn't need so desperately to catch up," he conceded.

That worked to get Sherlock to pause and look back at William carefully. If Jono was right, it was a bit of an uncomfortable experience.

He was going to need to study history now, wasn't he? Ugh.

"How much?"

And slightly ironic, given the number of times Will would give people that same careful look in the future.

"A hundred thirty-two years worth," William informed him, managing not to fidget. Thank you, eight years at Catholic school being stared down by nuns.

For science!

Sherlock hummed before moving into one of the rows to grab another series of books. "I hope you can function without sleep if you want to catch up on that much."

"Yes," William nodded. "I suspect I'll be busy for... quite some time." The prospect didn't look like it bothered him all that much, no.

"Computers down that row," Sherlock said, pointing in a vague direction as he continued to walk to where there might have been a table covered in yet more things for him to read. "You might need them."

"Com- what?" he recognised the word, from Latin, computare, and had seen it used to reference 'one who computes', but this fellow seemed to be referring to a device, not a person.

At least he was assuming the casual way this man referred to these 'computers' meant they were devices and not people.

"One of the most important things you'll need if you want to keep up here." He pulled his mobile out, waving it in front of the boy. "And one of these."

"What in heaven's name," William stared at the tiny box, "is that?"

"Mobile phone," Sherlock drawled, tossing it at him and just assuming it would be caught. "The most important thing you'll need."

Which it was, albeit with a bit of fumbling. He did manage not to drop it, at least. "That cannot be a telephone," he declared. "It's far too small, and there are no wires- how would you get ahold of an operator?"

Oh, William. "Use your brain."

"Don't tell me you're sold on this telepathy nonsense as well." He wasn't so bold as to give an adult a scathing look but it came awfully close.

Oh, Sherlock had been so bold at that age. And prior. So it should come as a shock to no one that he was doing it again now.

"My god, what is it like where you are from? Do you still wonder how to make fire?"

"...Now you're just being unneccessarily cruel," William commented primly. "We may not possess flourescent lighting or mechanised vehicles where I am from, but we are not primitive."

"You possess telephones where you are from," Sherlock replied. "Can you not extrapolate what advances might have been made in over a century by looking at the modern version?"

"I need a bit more context," William retorted, the beginnings of a scowl forming. "Which is what I was here to acquire," he gestured to his own stack of technical journals.

"Oh, please. Experimentation is the best manner to gain real knowledge."

Which would be why Sherlock had a severed head in his fridge back home.

...It was also why William had been kicked out of his former school-slash-residence in all but name. So he couldn't exactly disagree, but-

"Knowledge of the theories behind the practical application cannot hurt."

"If you really must," Sherlock replied. Because that sort of thing was just boring.

"What's your name?"

Shut it, Sherlock. Reading was awesome.

"William Murdoch," and then a pause, just long enough to be considered insolent: "Sir."

Library [08/29]

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