The area of Harvard University was kissed by the sun and the aroma of the spring apple trees perfumed the air the early April morning when our story begins. The school grounds were relatively empty, and the young man who this story is about was leaning against a great oak, thinking about everything worth thinking of. The class of advanced biochemistry was at the moment locked up in one of the ancient labs, and he didn't really fancy going. The subject was easy and dull and he was tired of his pathetic teacher. However, he decided to go anyway. His swirling thoughts were too annoying to ignore and lessons were almost a perfect distraction.
He entered the classroom and muttered an excuse as the professor cleared his throat and told him that "students who missed their classes just destroyed their yet brilliant futures." Sherlock snorted. A brilliant future? Please. He spent the lesson by writing down a puzzle in his notebook and reacted only once when the professor asked him a rather basic question.
In the end of the lesson, the professor finally asked the final question and Sherlock reluctantly raised his fist into the air. However, another student was allowed to answer. He sighed but flinched with surprise as he realized that he didn't recognize the voice. He turned around in his seat to confirm his suspicion. A new student. The voice itself wasn't very special. It belonged to a woman, but was too deep to appear feminine. It had a somewhat sarcastic undertone, but was insipid and sounded bored. However, the woman was beautiful and her face features were young. She looked bored too, though. She had the same expression as Sherlock always had when he attended classes. She searched for a distraction, and looked for something more exciting than advanced biochemistry. Their eyes met, and first, she looked even more mocking. Her expression suddenly changed, and she looked understanding and empathic. As if she understood him. The freak.
"Yes, miss Adler?"
"Oxygen. However, I just wanted to correct the black-haired man in the front seat. The correct answer is hemoglobin." She smiled to herself, as if the answer had been a private joke. He stared at her. Of course, the answer was hemoglobin. How could he have been mistaken? The rest of the class was also flabbergasted, judging by the amazed murmurs he heard from behind. That was not the important issue at the moment, though. She was the important issue.
He couldn't read her. She was a complete riddle to him, and he hated it. He stared at her more intensely, forced himself to concentrate. She smiled wider, as to provoke him even further when he couldn't make her out. Sherlock turned around, facing the teacher again. He was determined to ignore her. The lesson ended, and he left quickly, desperate for a smoke.
He slowly lit his cigarette outside the main building, his mind focusing on the thrill of the cigarette. He honestly didn't know what to do without his precious and most effective distraction.
"Do you have another one for a lady in need?" It was the new student from the biochemistry class. He sighed under his breath as he reached her the box of cigarettes, carefully avoiding her gaze.
"Thanks." She said and briefly touched his hand as she took the box from him. He tensed as he felt the pressure of her smooth and cold skin. He couldn't but notice the diamond ring on her finger. She was silent as she smoked, but didn't move from Sherlock's private space. That bothered him slightly, as the other students usually avoided the dark young man with the frightening intellect.
"Does your fiancée go here as well?" He asked her after a couple of minutes.
"No." She told him, sounding relatively surprised.
"His company takes loads of his spare time as well, I can imagine. But you'll have the time to marry in your hometown, New Jersey, later this year?" He finished his statement with an almost mocking smile; it was much easier to read her when he stood next to her. She was harder to make out and more… mysterious than the rest of his classmates, though. Her eyes were still grave, bored and reminded him of his when he hadn't smoked in days. She gave him a stretched and humorless smile in return.
"You must be Mr. Sherlock Holmes, then. I've heard loads of things about you."
"All." She confirmed and dropped the cigarette on the ground. She placed a black high heel on it and turned around on the spot.
"Well, well. It was nice chatting with you, Mr. Holmes." She said, winked at him and opened the door that led to the library. She tilted her head to the left.
"Goodbye Ms. Adler." He said quietly as she didn't leave for another half a minute.
"Sure. Just another thing, Holmes. It's hemoglobin, not collagen. Make sure to remember that" And with a short laughter that easily could be taken for a cough, Ms. Adler disappeared through the door.
Sherlock was quite speechless for the first time possibly ever, and realised that this was the longest conversation he had had with another student in at least two years.
AN: Surprise, I'm back! I've been on a holiday and I'm home now, that means loads of updates and new fanfics. This one is practically already written, and I love writing stories about irenelock (?) when they are young. Irene is not a dominatrix yet, and Sherlock hasn't started to solve cases yet. Expect a new update soon, XoXo