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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"Rinoa..." Sherlock took a step closer, circling around her for a moment. "You're daddy's little girl, aren't you? No, don't answer that. There's no need."

Rinoa reached instinctively for the rings on her necklace, her face darkening.

"You're wrong," she said. "I hate that man. I haven't spoken to him in years. I hope he dies."

Two years, actually, and she'd joined a revolution just to spite him.

Thus totally not proving Holmes's point. At all.

That might have been a patronizing smile he gave her there. "You don't have to like the man to be under his thumb so entirely. Family makes for the best enemies, don't you agree?"

Somewhere... Mycroft was sighing.

"I'm not under his thumb," she insisted. "Not any more. I left and I can do whatever I want, now, and he can't stop me."

Teenage rebellion. So amazingly predictable.

"And this has nothing at all to do with him," Sherlock added for her. "I'm sure."

Rinoa was glaring like she'd like to set the teacher on fire. Repeatedly.

"It doesn't," she snapped. "You're wrong. You think you know everything but you're wrong."

"No, unfortunately for you, I'm more often right."

The Science of Deduction, Friday - 9/3

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