Title: Searching for Fine
Summary: Five times someone tried to "prove" to Sherlock that he wasn't actually asexual, and the one person to whom it didn't matter.
Genre: BBC Sherlock fandom (no real spoilers), brief het/slash, …non-sexual slash (not really 'gen' but not a sexual relationship either)
Warnings: non-explicit sexual activities, attempted rape (part 3), some language
Disclaimer: I don't own/am making no money from/am not associated with BBC Sherlock.
Mummy's expression was odd. Disappointed, proud, resigned, but something else. Something different, something new, something that shouldn't be there when she came into meetings with his teacher. Sherlock didn't like it. It was a bit like she was laughing at him.
"Sherlock, what did I tell you about teasing your classmates?" Mummy demanded, patient, disappointed, but still laughing in the corner of her eyes.
"Jenny was teasing me first," he answered sullenly, resolutely not kicking at the legs and sitting still like an adult would. At the mature age of seven, Sherlock was far too old to kick his legs. Mycroft never kicked legs.
"Why didn't you come to me if Jenny was teasing you?" Miss Jameson asked, her voice much kinder and far more patient than it usually was when she was talking to Sherlock. Obviously she was showing off in front of his mother so Mummy would think she was a good teacher. She wasn't a good teacher anyway. She was stupid. And she always favored the girls when it came to fights. Jenny always stared it and Sherlock always got in trouble. So he wasn't going to answer her.
"Sherlock." Mummy's voice had a warning tone now. It was familiar and not laughing at him.
"Jenny's a liar," he answered, "She said she'd give me her candy bar if I found who took her ring, only no one took it because it's a stupid plastic thing, and I told her she left it in her art box and she said I stole it and hid it there and she wouldn't give me the candy bar. Jamie said I shouldn't listen to a girl." And that should have made Mummy angry because it was disrespectful to women, and he didn't care because she was being unfair and listening to Mrs. Jameson. Except Mummy wasn't angry. She was exchanging a look with his teacher, the sort grownups sometimes got around children that said they were so clever and knew something the child didn't. Now Sherlock knew what the new look was. He hated it. He gave a kick to his chair leg after all.
"Oh Sherlock," Mummy said, and she ran a hand through his hair, which was allowed because she was Mummy, "I suppose all girls are 'icky'?"
"No," he answered, "Girls aren't icky. They're stupid." And so were boys. They were still exchanging looks.
"Just give it a few more years," Mummy assured him, "I think you'll change your mind."
"No I won't," Sherlock answered, "Not ever, ever, ever." And he glared darkly. They were still smiling secretly. It was the 'how cute' secret smile. He wasn't being cute. And they didn't believe him. Like Mrs. Jameson didn't believe him about the ring and the candy bar. Well, he didn't care. Girls were stupid, and so were boys, and that wouldn't change just because he was older.
And it wasn't fair of Mummy that she didn't believe him. Not even when he stomped his foot.