Genetic Mistake (BBC Sherlock Fanfic)

Chapter 1

Sadie
~~

"Alright class, here's your assignment for today. You are to finish reading your assigned books. I expect them to be done. Next time, you'll all take a computation quiz on your book, so all of you with a D-," Mrs. Hanson looked back at me. "could have a much better grade. AND, finals are in three weeks."

I was a little upset that there wasn't too much drama today, I needed to do something about that. So, I walked up to Mrs. Hanson's desk and gave her my book. "Mrs. Hanson, this assignment sucks. I'm not doing it." I stated firmly.

"Sadie, I know you don't like to read. Trust me, I've talked with Mr. McClellan," She laughed, "but you can either do the assignment, or I won't let you graduate. You're a senior, not a third grader, in case you forgot." Mrs. Hanson replied smugly.

I snorted. "Do you think I care? It's not like I'm gonna even go to college anyway. Like any would accept me."

"With that attitude, you can either sit down and work or you can go to the headmaster's office and explain why you're failing every class except Basic Forensics 101 and Advanced Criminology. You're already a psychopath..." Mrs. Hanson stated, not even looking up from her stupid pink iPhone.

"He already knows..." I mumbled, turning away from the teacher's desk.

"What was that?" Mrs. Hanson asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." I smiled deviously at the teacher.

I walked over to my desk and grabbed my stuff, purposely forgetting my book. Walking out, I slammed the English Lit. room's door as hard as I could. I went down one floor, grabbed my bag from my locker and threw my books in. Finally, I made my way to the main floor and into the office.

Inside, Ms. Thaden asked for a hall pass. I told her Mrs. Hanson sent me to see Headmaster Maxwell, so I dropped my backpack on her desk and took her package of Wintergreen flavored gum. She never notices.

If you couldn't tell by now, I honestly considered myself a rebel. Even if most people in this school think I'm a goth drama queen wanna-be (they aren't wrong). Some people need to learn that I'm burdened with glorious purpose. Well, I like to think I am.

Instead of knocking, I barged into the Headmaster's office, cussing audibly when there was a man in the room with Mr. Maxwell.

"Sadie! what a pleasant surprise! Mr. Holmes, this is my daughter, Sadie." Mr. Maxwell said awfully cheerful. It made me sick.

"I'm not your kid. Never will be either." I growled and plopped lazily into the chair next to Mr. Holmes.

"I'll just make my way around the school, then," Mr. Holmes said with a heavy British accent.

[First, he is British. Why is he in Chicago? Oh, but look at the plane ticket peeking out of his pocket. Obviously only just to Chicago from London, then. He hasn't checked into his hotel yet, judging by the state of his massively windswept curls. Still doesn't answer why he's looking at the school. He's also wearing some pretty fancy clothes, so he's obviously not a teacher. By the looks of things, I'd say he's a detective of sorts. But that still doesn't explain why he's here.]

As Mr. Holmes stood up, I asked him, "Mr. Holmes.. Why are you here, if I may ask."

"I'm here on a routine Student Health & Safety check."

"No you're not." I replied, smirking.

"What makes you sat that?" He smirked back.

"Well first, there's your accent. What would a man form London be doing in Chicago? He has to be looking for something. And a man in the clothes you wear, is some kind of detective-y person. So Mr. Holmes, tell me. What are you looking for?"