fandomhigh | The Science of Sexuality, Monday

"Welcome back to a new school week," John began, standing in front of the large blackboard - and thus obscuring most of the drawings Sherlock had been putting up. "Today, we'll be speaking about what's technically the, er, consequences of intercourse, just because this really can't be said enough. Sexually transmitted diseases are a fact in our society, and though most of you are probably aware by now, the sad truth is that less and less people are working to actively prevent acquiring any of them. Hence this lecture."

They'd already been smudged by John in his attempt to 'protect' children from the anatomically correct drawings of STDs, thank you.

"Yes, despite all the lectures you have no doubt heard, infections of Herpes, Chlamydia and Hepatitis have continued consistently over the years in America." Silly Americans. "Though Syphilis has gone down," Sherlock added with a grin that wasn't pleasant at all. "Something to be proud of, I'm certain."

"So, the odds of one of you having any of these diseases is remarkably high considering the sexual activity of teenagers."

"As well as AIDs, a disease that slowly destroys your body's ability to ward off illness," John said, his own somewhat more severe tone off-setting Sherlock's... comparative cheer. "Though many of you might have been led to believe that it is no longer as much of a danger now that it can be managed with medicine, the truth is that it is still a very dangerous disease that continues to spread. Which means that protection is incredibly important. We're not advocating abstinence, because-- well." Sherlock, if you please?

"We are not dumb enough to believe any of that would seep into your brains," Sherlock added kindly. "I don't care if you catch any assortment of sexually transmitted diseases, I simply suggest you use a condom or some other form of birth control so as to not spread your genetic material around any further."

"Yes, well..." John took a moment, "That's not the kind of, ah, sexual repercussion we're speaking about today."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's the only one that affects me. If they want to live with the consequences of their stupidity for rest of their lives, that's their choice. Perhaps they'll meet someone else with an equally infectious disease and live blissfully ever after."

"We're trying to prevent them from getting any infectious diseases to begin with," John sighed. It reeked of resignation. "Anyway, STDs can range from bacterial infections to fungi, viruses and parasites. Chlamydia, gonorrhea and syphilis are all bacteria. Likewise for chancroid, known for the, er, sores on the genitalia, and granuloma, which causes lesions. Sherlock has outlined some of the more obvious symptoms of these diseases. I suggest you take a quick look at them before he wipes them from the blackboard."

Go and wipe, Sherlock, before John had to glare at you.

Sherlock shot him a look, unmoved by the glare. "You can find worse online."

Oh, /b/. It burns your very soul.

"Now I believe John has a game for you to play because I already vetoed those insipid little toys."

"I was going to tell you more," John said, because Sherlock was proving to be utterly unhelpful, "But it occurred to me that you learn more by doing. So we've made these cards--" Which were utterly tasteful and without any scarring images, thank you, though even John had been tempted to put some photos on just to drive the message home. "Each one of you gets one. Pick a partner, and play twenty questions until you can figure out which disease the other one's got."

... A beat.

"...on the card."

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"I'm sure, somewhere in this mighty multiverse, there is a poor exotic dancer named Charity that has this," Peter said. "But I'm guessing that isn't the context you were thinking of. Which makes me wonder what you actually are thinking about."

Karla's face fell again. "That's probably a question you don't want me to answer," she mumbled.

Which was about as effective as sprinkling sugar around a picnic to keep the ants away.

"If you're thinking about the teacher naked, then you're right, I definitely don't want you to answer," Peter said, noting Karla's reaction. "But something tells me whatever it is, it's bothering you enough that actually getting the classwork done with you isn't going to happen."

"I'm sorry," Karla said in a small voice. She finally looked at the card in her hand but couldn't make heads nor tails of it. "I'll try to focus. Err, what are we doing?"

"STDs," Peter said. "We each have a card, and we're supposed to play twenty questions until we can guess what is on the other person's card. Pretty straightforward. Or we can just read our cards out loud, if you're not in the mood for games."

He wasn't being impatient or cross, just straightforward.

Edited 2011-01-18 00:55 (UTC)

Karla's people calibration was a little off today, Peter. It really was her, not you.

"I don't think I know any of the diseases," she said. "Guessing really won't help me name them. But you can try to guess what I have?"

Fortunately, that poor choice of words slipped over her head much the same way the rest of the lecture had.

"A case of the mondays?" Peter said.

He winced.

"Please, forget I ever said that. Wipe it from your mind forever."

Karla gave him a wobbly smile. "I can almost guarantee that you won't have to worry about that. It took me four tries to put on matching shoes today and make sure they were on the right feet."

"Okay, now that gets me worried," Peter said. "You want to tell me what's up, before I think you're coming down with early early onset Alzheimer's?"

"I...lost someone, very close to me, over the weekend," Karla said, quietly, using the three-quarters-truth she'd stumbled over last period. She wasn't sure if Peter wanted to have his whole day ruined by learning the full truth. "It's hitting me pretty hard."

Well, the sad thing was, even if Peter knew, it wasn't going to ruin his day.

"Sorry to hear that," Peter said, carefully reaching a hand out to rest on Karla's shoulder, if she'd let him. "It's always tough. And just so we don't have to worry about this anymore, I have crabs."

~~I laughed far too hard at that~~

"Crabs?" Karla asked, now utterly confused. She glanced down at lap, as if she could see a crustacean peeking out of his pocket or something. "Where?"

Peter held up the card. "Pubic lice. Sorry about your friend, though, really. Anything I can do, let me know."

This conversation was so bizarre, Karla was getting mental whiplash trying to follow it. And probably would have even if she was firing with all cylinders today. 'Sorry about your dead friend!' 'Pubic lice!' It was like ping pong in her head.

"Lice, we have back home," Karla said, trying to find a bit to grasp. "In the poorer districts. Is this just the normal kind, but living in the genital region or something specific? And why did you call it crabs?"

"Because that's what it's known as, colloquially," Peter said. "And that's about it, lice that lives on pubic hair. And according to the card, a mess of associated issues that all sound really unpleasant."

Karla wrinkled her nose. "But it's treatable, right?"

Surely this world could do that much?

She looked down at her card again, this time actually making an attempt to read what it said. "Would you like to ask me some questions and guess what I have?"

The Science of Sexuality, Monday

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