fandomhigh | The Science of Deduction, Friday

When all the students had finished filing into class, they might notice a man sitting at the teacher's desk, busy on his mobile phone. Presumably, their esteemed teacher. Esteemed.

Yes.

"This is the Science of Deduction," he said, not looking up from whatever he was working on. For all they knew, it was a rousing game of Tetris. "If you're uncertain as to whether or not you belong here or if you are only in this class to make your parents leave you alone, the answer is no. The door is to your right. I'm sure we'd all appreciate you leave before you waste our time. I know I will."

There was a pause as he waited for anyone to take that offer. It was the kind thing to do, right?

"Let's begin with me saying that I'd rather not be teaching you," Sherlock said, closing the phone and placing it on the desk. Brutal honesty was always the best when dealing with teenagers. Really. "I have it on good authority that I'm not good at dealing with children or idiots. Both of which are in the room at the moment. Outside the classroom as well, but we're not focusing on that at the moment."

He shrugged because what could you do?

"My name is Sherlock Holmes and yes, I am already aware that I share a name and an alarming number of characteristics with a fellow from Victorian England. Any comments about it and you will be assisting me with my experiments. Always pleased to have live subjects for a change."

Oh, if only that was a lie.

"So, let's begin, shall we?"

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"There is always the door," Sherlock pointed out. "Don't let me detain you. Whether or not your simple little brain can keep up is hardly any of my business."

Emma's lips curled into a wicked smile, one that often sent the faint of heart fleeing before her. "My 'simple little brain,'" she mused, rolling it over her tongue like tasting a wine and finding the vintage intriguing.

"Now I have to stay and see how wrong you really are."

Faint of heart wasn't exactly what came to mind with Sherlock.

"Oh? Going by your quite frankly atrocious accent and carriage, we'll say well enough off, but perhaps not nearly as much anymore. Bit if a chip on your shoulder," he said with a clinical look. "Let me guess, you would rather be learning how to crush people beneath your heel financially. An admirable career for those lacking vision, I'm sure."

"If I flaunted the sort of money I grew up accustomed to at school, that would be tacky," Emma pointed out. "Money is only a tool, if you're going to revolutionize the world."

"So is it mummy or daddy that you're trying to live up to?" She asked, taking a good solid poke at him with her powers.

...ow. Ow ow ow. What sort of caffeinated acid trip was this guy on?

"What the hell is wrong with your brain?"

Oh, Emma.

"Neither," Sherlock replied with a near psychotic grin. "You can peek inside? What did you see?"

"Besides confirmation that you're a narcissistic sociopath?" Emma asked, blinking rapidly to try and rinse out her mind. "Which I don't think any of us doubted."

"What did you do?" Emma was familiar with the minds of junkies; she had to be, given her family, and how she'd lived the last year and a half before Fandom.

"A number of things," Sherlock replied, not at all blinking at the prognosis. "It was a rather interesting stage of my life."

"For you, or everyone else around you?" Emma asked before waving it off. "Irrelevant. They let you around around impressionable children?"

"And are you seriously wearing three?"

"Yes, you're terribly impressionable. I can tell."

There was a pause before, he shrugged.

"It helps me focus."

~~SHE IS. JUST ASK KERRIGAN.~~

"You might want to up the dosage, then."

"Hardly my fault that you can't keep up."

The Science of Deduction, Friday - 9/3

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