Chapter 8- Something To Offer.

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Here's chapter 8! I have a brief outline as to where I'm going with this now. Happy new year guys!

"Sherlock!" John called exasperatedly, waving a hand in front of his face. The taller boy had been staring intensely at a unimportant spot for about five minutes now, brows furrowed, deep in thought and John had been trying to get his attention.

"What?" Sherlock answered, still staring into space.

"Have you done the homework?"

They were sitting in their philosophy and ethics lesson, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Kids in front of them were throwing balls of paper at each other, shouting and calling their fellow classmates names. Two boys stood up, ducking behind tables and running around them laughing and throwing pencils at each other. Both of them clumsily knocking some of the quieter children's pencil cases off of the table by accident as they ran.

"Nah, pointless. What's the point of doing something if the answers are so blindly obvious?" He said distractedly.

John looked at him confused. "Er.. Hm yeah... Sherlock, why are you so distracted?"

The curly haired boy blinked a few times, then turned to give John his full attention. "I'm not, why?"

John shrugged. "I dunno, you just seem to be staring into space more than you usually do."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak when the teacher walked in, barking at the two boys whom she had caught running around before they immediately stopped. She threw down a few folders and a set of keys on her desk and ordered the boys to give out the books and stay behind after class and they reluctantly did so.

Twenty minutes later when the class were quietly doing their work, John leaned over and whispered in Sherlock's ear, still confused about the dark haired boy's tense, distracted mood.

"Sherlock, did you find out what Jim wanted yesterday."

"Yes. I'm meeting him at break today."

John looked up warily to see if the teacher was looking over. "Why, what did he want?"

"I dunno, that's why I'm meeting him."

"Why didn't he just tell you over text or something." He replied a little louder, obviously irritated at the lack of a proper answer.

"I don't know John." Sherlock whispered through gritted teeth "go and ask him yourself if you're so interested."

John sighed exasperatedly "Sherlock, for God sa-"

"You two! Shut up and get on with your work." The teacher bellowed from the front of the classroom.

John muttered a sorry before getting on with his work again.

.oOo.

Those first two lessons before break dragged for both Sherlock and John. Sherlock because of his curiosity as to what Jim had to 'offer'. He had never found an intellectual equal before, even at his posh boarding school that was full of prissy clever kids.

Jim Moriarty was different as well as inhumanly clever, he was weird and unique. A boy who looks like a thirteen year old from a distance but has the eyes of a person much older. The way he presents himself too, the facts he knows, the calculating, unrevealing manner and the ability to know everything about anyone in just one glance.

For John, it was the confusion of not knowing what his friend was up to; worrying about him a little. Sherlock could get up to an infinite amount of dangerous things without any precautions for safety, and John would be there to make sure he was safe, almost like an anchor. Sherlock needed that, which is why they've stayed best friends for as long as they have.

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