A Scandal in Social Media (BBC SHERLOCK, TEENLOCK AU)

CHAPTER II.

Holmes tilted his head slightly while he read the sign of the dorm: "Serpentine house". Watson watched him closely, still trying to figure out what had brought them on this side on campus despite the curfew, which had started more than two hours ago by now, and their punishment increased with every passing minute. However, Watson said nothing.

"It's here."

"What's here?"

Holmes did not answer but had yet again disappeared into his own world of deep thoughts and close considerations in which Watson was not welcome. Again, he said nothing.

"Punch me in the face."

Watson suddenly stopped and looked at the face of his friend, which revealed no signs of a smile as a clue of an intended joke. Neither did Watson take Holmes for the kind of person who made jokes in the middle of the night outside the girls' dorm, where they had absolutely no good excuse to wander around. He came to the conclusion that he must had mistaken Sherlock's command and that it was some kind of a code, a hidden message which Watson was not yet aware of.

"I shall need your cooperation doctor."

"Doctor" Watson stuttered. "But, how..."

"It's obvious my friend. The book under your pillow, the pile of medicine magazines you always carry with you, your wish to become a doctor can be seen by a blind man. It's simplicity itself."

Watson stood speechless.

"I take that as a yes." Holmes said. "So, you don't mind breaking the rules do you?"

"Not in the least." It was true, Watson's answer, especially since they had started already several hours ago. And also, Watson was too curious about Holmes' plan to care about the rules at this moment.

"Nor running a chance for detention?"

"Not in a good cause."

"Oh, the cause is excellent!"

"Then I am your man."

"I was sure that I could rely on you."

"But what is it you wish?"

"Punch me in the face."

Again Watson looked stunned, yet deeply thoughtful, trying to figure out the secret message.

"Punch me in the face. Can't you hear me?"

"Well, I always hear punch me in the face when you're speaking" Watson said at last "but it's usually subtext."

Holmes took a deep breath, which thereafter was followed by his fist moving quickly through the air, an unnatural manner for the otherwise calm and rational Sherlock Holmes, but still as smooth as the final hit of a professional boxer in his ring. Watson experienced an inch of astonishment before the fist hit his left cheek.

Watson's response came automatically and the fight between the two young men lasted several minutes. A peculiar fight one could say, most difficult to explain and still there was a sense of beauty in it, taking place in the otherwise quiet night, surrounded by only darkness and the sound of a whispering wind.

"Enough."

Watson looked up while catching his breath and wiping the sweat of his forehead with his sleeves, still not quite aware of what had taken place.

"Now, stay close to this open window and wait for my signal."

With that said, Holmes left Watson, full of sweat, and questions, and headed to the nearest door. He knocked three times and just a few seconds later, the door was pushed open by a young girl, most likely a first-year student, who made a small cry at the sight of Holmes. She was dressed in her coat and hat, as if she was leaving, and had had her eyes distinctly painted with make-up. She did not look pleased at all at the sight of her guest.

"Oh shit, well, get in. I don't have time with you right now. You should definitely go see Molly the nurse though." The young girl's irritation was obvious and so was her lack of time, yet she could not leave the badly assaulted young man outside their door, what would people say? She kept glancing at her watch. "Hurry, get in. Well, I'll let you be my roomie's problem. What are you even doing here?" She asked, but Holmes had no time to give her an answer, which would not be the real any way, before she called for her roommate: "Irene!"

The girl kept mumbling through the door and out in the darkness, "... so late, as if I needed this.. I knew it, boys are... ah I just hate...Why didn't he just go to Molly?", too caught by her thoughts and pure irritation to notice the other young man, now sitting with his arms crossed under the window. Watson himself was also deep in thoughts, filled with questions and with a growing irritation of his role under an open window. He had to stand on his toes to be able to see inside, where Holmes at this moment was walking in circles, in a warm and cosy room... Watson sat down once again.

When Sherlock had observed the furnishing of the room's all spaces and corners, Irene Adler entered the room.

"Pull yourself together. I know why you're here." she said gently.

Holmes stopped his inspections and moved his observing eye towards the young lady who was now standing opposite him in her thin silk nightdress. Her thick hair rested on her bare shoulders, touching the beginning of her collarbone which moved Sherlock's eye down her chest to the bare skin between her breasts. Her nightdress followed the shape of her waist and hips until it came to an end just before her knees. She stood barefoot and her eyes were steadily set on his. Also Watson caught sight of the meeting between the two, through the thick sky blue curtains, and he was severely starting to question the reason for Holmes bringing him here in the middle of the night.

"Irene" Sherlock said and nodded towards her, looking slightly troubled, yet not distracted by the easily dressed young lady.

"Holmes."

While an innocent and tense interaction was going on inside the window, young Watson was getting very tired of waiting outside the window. He had for long been patient now he thought, and with both hands on the window sill he started pulling himself up towards the open window. Sherlock on the other hand was, in that very moment, only an inch from picking miss Adler's IPhone from the tiny pocket of her nightdress as she showed him the newest model of her headphones that she had received last Christmas, when he saw the face of his friend emerging in the window.

"Idiot" he mumbled to himself as Watson, rather smoothly, pushed himself to sit on the window sill and quietly sneaked both legs into the room.

"What?"

"Nothing" Holmes responded as he, slightly frustrated, but smoothly withdrew his hand and moved to stand between Adler and the window. "Those speakers look exclusive" he said, and Irene turned her eyes to the opposite side of the room. In that moment, Watson's feet landed on the wooden floor and Sherlock coughed loudly to cover the sound as he firmly pointed to his friend, who he now considered to be a little too spontaneous, to hide behind the Skye blue curtain.

Holmes' cough, however, did not seem to persuade miss Adler and she turned and walked suspiciously towards the window. With her hands on the window sill, she observed, with a look similar to the one of Sherlock Holmes, the darkness outside. Holmes, who had followed her closely to the window, put his hands on her waist, feeling her skin through the thin layer of fabric, and pulled her back.

"Pray, be careful" he said gently. "One never knows who's wandering around at night."

As he moved his hands, he could easily pull out the IPhone and discreetly hand it over to his friend, who quietly put it in his pocket, well aware of having made too much noise already, behind the back of miss Adler. The young lady turned around in the grip of young Holmes' hands, and stepped even closer to the unpredictable face of her visitor.

"Really?"

Watson rolled his eyes behind the curtain as he saw how the manner of his friend became intimidated by the self-confident flirty miss Adler. Holmes took a firm step back to create a distance between his and miss Adler's breath, still revealing no expression in his eyes.

"Let's go Watson."

The abrupt order made Watson clumsily fall out from behind the curtain, landing on his knees just before the feet of miss Adler. He stood up quickly and hurried to the the left side of Holmes, clearly with more expression in his face than his friend. Together they left the dorm and young miss Adler, who was still standing by the window, with an expression, maybe the only expression, as impossible to read as the one of Sherlock Holmes.