Sculder

X Files Crossover AU Part Two

The next day was hardly better than the first. Sherlock was utterly bored. He, being the son of William and Carol Holmes, had a higher intellect than most children his age. He found that the subjects, and the way they were being taught here, were rather boring and not mentally stimulating. Plus, it didn't help that Sherlock was at least a year ahead in math, knew all about the American Revolution, nor the fact that he perused science and technology articles and books in his free time. The only challenging parts of the day were gym and cooking, his chosen elective. He had almost no endurance and continuously burned his finger on the stove.

Fox Mulder was in two of his classes, but not much else. After the incident yesterday, rumors had already started flying around that he had stolen the phone and deluded poor Sherlock Holmes into thinking he hadn't done it. Sherlock, after hearing of these topics of conversation from a few curious 7th graders who were bold enough to ask him, sent them scurrying away with a glare. How dare these people think Mulder stole the phone, then tricked him into believing he hadn't stolen it! Fuming, Sherlock marched toward his locker. As he'd thought, Mulder was eating a sandwich beside it. "Mulder! Did you hear the rumors?"

"Huh? Oh, hi Sherlock. Yeah, I did. So?" Mulder continued chowing down the wilted lettuce and tomatoes with mayonnaise, licking his fingers as he did so.

"What do you mean, so? We've got to prove them wrong. You didn't do it, did you?" Sherlock asked, plopping down next to his friend, already running through the scenario from yesterday, searching for anything he might've have missed.

"Of course not, Sherlock." Mulder stared at him, affronted. Their discussion was cut off when the bell rang. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Sherlock nodded at him, and both boys parted ways. As Sherlock made his way to 5th period science, he knocked into a boy running across the quad.

"Hey! Watch it-! Sherlock?" The boy paused, heels skidding across the asphalt. At the sound of his name, Sherlock's head whipped back around, toward the boy. He was shorter than he, with loose blond hair over his eyes. Square glasses magnified his blue irises. "It's me, John Watson!"

' John Watson... John... Watson. Watson!' Sherlock remembered him now. His mother had gone to his parents for help in proving that she hadn't murdered her fellow soldiers on a mission in Afghanistan.

"Hello, John. How are you?" Sherlock replied, walking toward his class.

"Angry, as of right now!" John yelled, as he was running back across the Quad again. "My phone just got stolen, and it was literally sitting right next to me! We can catch up later, don't be late to class!" He left, leaving Sherlock to jog to his class. He came in right as the bell rang. The teacher, Mr. Clark, looked pointedly at the clock.

"Sorry, sir," Sherlock said. "I got lost again." Mr. Clark nodded, apparently, this explanation was sufficient for him. Sherlock returned to his seat, taking out the materials he needed. As he did a melting ice experiment, however, his mind kept returning to the recent crimes. Now two phones had been stolen, in just two days. 'Hmm... The person doing it must be quiet, and probably small, to avoid the notice of so many people...' Sherlock, being so lost in thought, didn't realize that he was holding the beaker with the tongs, and, forgetting for a moment to put pressure on the handle, he dropped the beaker. The hot water cascaded out of the broken glass beaker and onto his feet. Sherlock yelped, jumping into the air in an effort to escape the scalding liquid.

***

It was the end of Sherlock's first week at Coral Springs and his parents were unable to pick him up. In the text his mother sent, she explained that, "We are in a crucial part of the investigation. Father and I have just found a lead pertaining to the homicide victim's death. Please walk home and prepare dinner." Sherlock sighed. The apartment they were staying in was 2.45 miles away and went through Downtown Santa Cruz, which was busy at this time of day. He turned toward the direction of his house after waving a quick goodbye to Mulder.