The inspiration for this one came to me when I was listening to a song. I don't own the charcters or the BBC. Sadly :(

1. Even as a child Sherlock was known to be rude to people and to take what he wanted. Mummy was never pleased when that happened.

Mycroft always tried to persuade Sherlock to be a good boy, even if it was for Mummy's sake. There was one particular incident where Sherlock was

bored one day and he had set to annoying people and deducing all the house staff, much to their annoyance. He was soon kicked outside into the garden

and as he was wondering around the flower beds muttering "bored bored bored bored bored bored" he came across one of the kitchen maids sitting on

a bench. He frowned.

"What are you doing?" the maid looked up at him. Knowing who he was, she smiled.

"Why don't you tell me?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow to the challenge. Not many adults gave him a challenge. Looking her over, he sucked in a breath.

"You're thinking about a past memory, I'd say a sad memory from the way that you're hunched over and your posture is one of defeat" Sherlock paused

and looked at her again.

"I would say a memory of a child that past away judging by the way your hands are cradling your stomach" The maid smiled a sad smile

"Yeah, you're right" The smile dropped off her face and her eyes began to fill with tears. Sherlock was at an odds as to what to do. He wasn't used to

people and their emotions. If Mycroft were here, he's be saying that people don't like to be reminded of bad things, especially dead children. Not usually

compassionate, Sherlock felt a slight twinge at maybe upsetting the maid. He sat down next to her on the bench. Carefully, he reached out a hand and patted

her shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm sorry" The maid smiled again. Before she could say anything, they heard Mycroft calling for Sherlock. Sherlock looked at the maid and shrugged his

shoulders and hopped off the bench. Before he ran half the way back, he heard the maid call his name. He turned back to look at her, at her sad smile.

"Thank you"

2. If being a teenager wasn't bad enough for Sherlock, he had to go to school with people he deemed complete morons. Apart

from his science teacher Mr Miller. He treated Sherlock like the intelligent young adult he was and in return, Sherlock

respected him. One day, Sherlock was walking around the corridors near the science labs when around a corner he heard something

he had a feeling he shouldn't of heard.

"No, I'm just waiting for my idiot husband. Why he insists on wasting his time teaching snot nosed brats is beyond me" Sherlocklooked round the corner. A woman in

her mid 30's was on the phone. Whoever she was talking to answered back.

"I know. I'll leave him soon I promise. He's so dull, I can't stand to listen to his idiotic drivel" the person on the phone was

speaking.

"Yeah. Ok I have to go now" and with that she cut the call. A few seconds later, Mr Miller opened his office door and stepped out.

He greeted the woman with a smile and a kiss and they walked off the other end of the corridor. The next day, Sherlock waited till

everyone had left the classroom and walked up to Mr Miller's desk. He looked up from reports he was writing and gave Sherlock a smile.

"Hello Sherlock. What can I do for you?" Never being one for tact or thinking of people's thoughts, Sherlock said it out straight.

"Your wife is cheating on you. I'd divorce her" Mr Miller blinked at him.

"Excuse me?" Sherlock sighed.

"Trust me" and with that, he walked out the classroom. The day after that, Mr Miller asked Sherlock to stay after class. Sherlock walked

up to the desk and looked into the puffy red eyes of his favourite teacher. Sherlock noted the pale tan line on his ring finger where a

ring rested yesterday. Mr Miller smiled.

"Thank you"

3. University wasn't that easy for Sherlock. His peers refused to accept him, he didn't find another Teacher like Mr Miller, everyone considered him a freak

because of his deductions. He wasn't getting very far, he thought he was most likely a sociopath. He didn't care about anything really. Not even on that day...

It was a rare day for London. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, loads of people were out and about enjoying the sunshine and their good luck that it

was a saturday. Sherlock didn't care much for sunshine and that.

He was walking down some unknown road when he saw something that might worry most people. A child, no older than 6 surely, playing in the middle of

the road. Sherlock wouldn't of thought anything more of it. If it wasn't for the car speeding down the road. A quick calculation in his head, Car going at 60 mph,

Child doesn't notice, chances of child getting out of the way before the car comes = nil, and he was running into the road. He snatched the child up at the same

time the child's mother was coming out of the house hysterical and the car went speeding past. It didn't even stop.

Sherlock dropped the child into it's mother waiting arms. He looked down at her with a blank face as she sobbed over and over and over again.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you"

4. It was a hectic day for Sherlock. Tracking down London's latest serial killer for Lestrade. It was kind of a shame that the killer had to be Molly's latest boyfriend.

Molly was going to be his next victim. Sherlock didn't delete the day afterwards, call him sentimental. He was in the mourgue looking at the killer when Molly came in.

"Oh Sherlock hi. I didn't think anyone would be in here. I mean obviously you are but-"

"Molly, stop before you hurt yourself"

"Sorry" Molly closed her mouth. Then opened it again.

"It's not everyday that you have a serial killer for a boyfriend. I wouldn't of thought me of all people would" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I mean, I would have been next. He would have killed me and I wouldn't be standing here, talking you you...obviously. I don't know why I said that. You knew

that anyway" Molly made hand gestures that one usually made when nervous. Sherlock catalouged this.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is-" Sherlock interuppted her before she could carry on

"Molly, I really have to go so could you hurry up and say whatever it you seem to think I need to know" Molly's face flushed and she tripped over her words

"Yes well- I- I just wanted to- to say..." Sherlock sighed impatiently and looked at her. Molly looked back at him suddenly still, and smiled

"Thank you"

5. Sherlock wasn't used to people being ill. Let alone being used to people. But here he was, with a sick flatemate and he was at loss as to what to do. Not for the first

time in his life. John was curled up on the sofa with a blanket wrapped round him. He was watching Jeremy kyle on the tv and talking/shouting at it whilst Sherlock was

in his chair looking up something on the laptop.

"That is obviously your baby! You can see it in the eyes" John shouted. Sherlock chuckled slightly which made John roll his eyes

"I suppose you figured out whose baby it was ages ago"

"Yes. You're right about the eyes. It's just that they belong to the mans brother" John looked at him then back at the tv. Sherlock was right again which made John sigh.

Sherlock chuckled again then stood up and placed the laptop (John's laptop) on the table and went to grab his coat and scarf. John eyed him wearily.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Don't wait up" witht hat, Sherlock swooped out of the room. John shrugged and settled down to try and have a quick nap.

When he later woke up, the room felt warm and comfy. The fire had been lit and it basked the room in a warm orange glow. He heard noises from the kitchen which sounded like

Mrs Hudson.

"Oh Sherlock look what you've done! I've added far too much curry powder" There was a loud sigh.

"Mrs Hudson! the recepie on the internet said to use lots of curry powder. It's supposed to ignite the senses again so he can taste food"

"But there's enough here to burn his bloody tounge off!" Sherlock sighed again

"Impossible. Now give over and let me stir" John was confused. Sherlock was in the kitchen making dinner? He must be dilusional. Sherlock came in half an hour later with a tray of

curry and orange juice

"Ah you're up. Perfect. I made you dinner" Mrs Hudson stuck her head out of the kitchen and cleared her throat loudly. Sherlock rolled his eyes in response

"Fine. Mrs Hudson helped...a little" Sherlock placed the tray on John's lap carefully. Mrs Hudon came out with two more plates and place them opposite each other on the table.

"You have to eat too Sherlock come on" Sherlock frowned

"I don't need to-" Mrs Hudson fixed him with a stare

"Sherlock, sit" Sherlock dragged himself over to the table and sat down and began to eat his dinner. John took a forkful of his own and ate it with gusto. He looked over at Sherlock

"Hey Sherlock" Sherlock looked up and met his eyes. John smiled the warmest smile ever that made Sherlock feel good inside

"Thank you"

+1. Sherlock felt really really creepy. Even thoguhhe considers himself a sociopath, he knows there must be some line in creeping into people's rooms whilst they're asleep. He

couldn't care less at the minute. The figure on the bed let out a little snuffyly sound. The corners of Sherlock's mouth lifted a little. He bent over the figure, not quite touching

since knew there was a gun under that pillow. He moved in quite close until he could almost smell the shampoo coming off the other man. Knowing what this wonderful had

done to clear his name after it was dragged through the mud made Sherlock believe that maybe he wasn't quite the sociopath he thought he was. He had friends who he

cared about and who cared for him in return. Sherlock smiled properly this time.

"Thank you"

So what do you think? My first 5 times fic. I was nervous about how I was going to write this. I know a couple of the charcters might be out of character (Sherlock)

but I tried to keep it as best as I could. My favourite is either the Molly one or the John one :D and for those who didn't guess, the +1 is set a couple of months

after the last episode. Feedback is love :3