Authors note: (1/12/2021) hey guys, wanted to just say that you should ignore the internalised misogyny in this imagine. I wrote this when I was young and dumb and my description of the protagonist was a bit "pick me" and some of the language has implications of internalised misogyny too so just ignore that lol I cba to change it. Maybe I will one day if I can be bothered. Anyways, happy reading :)
IMAGINE THIS.
It's not like the books.
Extraordinary things never happened to ordinary people.
You slumped at the vinyl desk-for-one, flicking at the tape that peeled from the side to reveal the MDF board underneath. These plastic chairs were alright a few years ago but now all the heights were wrong and it made your back ache. You just seemed to awkwardly arch over the desk, your shoulders sagged slightly and one elbow rested on the wooden surface.
The lecturer droned on, you weren't quite sure what the topic was, Macbeth or something. You rolled your eyes, knowing Shakespeare someone would most definitely end up dead.
You normally liked English but in the past few weeks, you realized that everything had been slowing down in a way, besides it's not like you cared about it anymore, most of the grades involved writing some tedious article which you hated to do with a passion. Where was the creative writing? It had been a few days ago thatyou had decided to kiss your A's goodbye.
Today was especially terrible. It all seemed to trail along in time now. Did the clocks ever tick? You glanced up to the class clock.
1:45PM.
Why does time have to go so slowly? You thought forlornly, utterly bored as your bright eyes flickered up to the clock, narrowing almost accusingly. The hands seemed to never move. Everything was just so excruciatingly slow. You sighed tiredly, tilting you head into you hand as you tapped your blue bio sharply and impatiently against the scratched desk. Many of the kids around the class kept glancing your way in annoyance but you didn't care.
Being a teenager was hard. If you were any other age than eighteen going on nineteen, then life was just simpler. That's how it looked, anyway. What was the point? All you did was shuffle to university, pay attention in class, sit alone in free time, listen to another lecturer drone on and then you went back to your dorm. Then the process repeated.
You leaned back in your chair and splayed out you legs, staring at your black converse. The lecturer could've told you off but you were at the back of the class and even if they did you wouldn't care. You swept away a lock of hair from your eyes as your bored gaze trailed over to the window.
Outside, the busy scene of London life was still buzzing away. You still tapped your pen as you stared longingly out the window, your eyes unblinking. Life at London had recently gotten a lot more interesting as the detective, Sherlock Holmes, was back on the scene.
Turned out he wasn't dead at all. The bastard, you thought in wry amusement, John Watson must have had the shock of his life. He had returned with the promise of danger and it wasn't a surprising when John had begun to blog about their new adventures. You read his blog frequently and was always astounded about how brilliant the detective's mind was.
It seemed to you that Sherlock Holmes didn't need another brain but another heart and that was where his blogger came in. You were admittedly jealous of the adventures they had spent together and wished that you could only join them instead on sitting in a boring lesson.
Just as you were thinking this, the universe decided to answer your little prayer.
Before your mind even registered it, a man was flung into the exact window you were staring out. Glass flew everywhere, shards ruffling your hair and cutting your cheeks but you remained completely motionless in shock as the man crashed to the floor in a heap.
The whole class buzzed, frightened, the lecturer running between the aisles to calm them down. You shook out the glass from your hair, staring down at the man before your desk, who just so happened to be the great detective himself, Sherlock Holmes.
He groaned slightly, running his long fingers through his curly mass of dark hair. Sherlock scowled, not even taking notice of you as he quickly got to his feet and briskly paced to the window.
"Bloody hell, Sherlock."
You recognized that voice. It was John Watson. You had see him on the news plenty of times by Sherlock's side. Curiouser and curiouser, you thought, intrigued.
Sherlock helped his friend through the window, a smirk on his face. "I don't think myself being tossed through a window by a huge body-building criminal qualifies as my fault."
John scowled, waving of Sherlock's hand as he hauled himself over the broken window, huffing slightly. "Whatever. You alright?"
"Fine." The sociopath dismissed before peering over John's shoulder,"He's gone round the building into the far end on the school. We're going to have to go after him, John."
John jumped to the sheen floor, glass crunching underneath his feet. "You think?" He asked sarcastically, rubbing his hands on his clothes to get rid of the tiny bits of glass.
Sherlock glared to him, popping his Belstaff collar in annoyance. It was at this point did the pair only seem to notice you and the rest of the class staring at them, mouths wide. Even the lecturer's jaw was hanging open.
"Um." John furrowed his eyebrows awkwardly, his hands suddenly clasped behind his back and feet rocking uncomfortably.
Sherlock lifted an elegant eyebrow, staring at the class and, again not even glancing at you. He stared at the lecturer,"It seems there is a dangerous criminal loose in your building so I suggest that you evacuate the entire area of teachers and students. Please, inform your head if management and don't panic." Sherlock flicked a wrist to John who rolled his eyes, exasperated,"My colleague and I will have it sorted in about..." The detective checked his watch,"Thirty-five minutes and forty-five seconds precisely. My calculations are never wrong."
"You're Sherlock Holmes." The lecturer stated slowly, eyes wide. You signed, pinching the bridge of you nose.
Sherlock tutted,"Yes. Obviously." You smirked as John sharply elbowed his friend in the side as a silent warning. The sociopath pouted down at him almost childishly. You tilted your head in thought, Sherlock Holmes was more intriguing than you thought.
"You're the detective who faked his death." One of your fellow classmates said, pointing to him excitedly and practically bouncing in their seat.
John winced. Still hasn't gotten over it, you thought, trying not to smile.
Sherlock walked to the front of the class, musing. "Yes. I am." He stopped sharply, checking his wristwatch again,"Haven't you watched the news?" You rolled your eyes, tapping your pen again.
The detective seemed to make a decision before glancing up at the class, a slight smirk on his pale lips. You couldn't deny that this made his cheekbones all the more prominent. "I am in need of assistance."
John crossed his arms,"Since when did the great detective ever ask for help?"
Sherlock glared to him,"Since there was a six foot, hugely muscular criminal wondering a high school that needs out-witting."
Many of the pupils put up their hands, grinning and shouting out why he should choose them. Sherlock flinched in distaste, his piercing eyes trailing across the classroom until they settled on you. You weren't exactly sure what you felt as he quickly looked at you from the toes and upwards. Sherlock pursed his lips in thought, looking intrigued.
You swallowed thickly, wanting to disappear as everybody's eyes turned on you.
Sherlock pointed directly to you, strolling slowly up to your desk. "You."
Every other pupil groaned, throwing their heads back at the ceiling. A girl seated two seats behind you laughed, tossing back her glossy hair. You pursed your lips, slumping further into your seat and fiddling with your fingers nervously.
"Don't pick the freak."
Sherlock turned sharply to the girl at the last word, features emotionless as he stared at her. "Oh, and why shouldn't I do that?" You briefly glanced to John who smiled reassuringly at you to which you couldn't help but return.
The girl laughed again, some students sat nearby sniggering as well. She twisted in her seat, legs crossed and she coyly smiled to him. "She's the weirdo. Nobody wants to sit with her at lunch because she spends all her time writing stupid stories. I've actually read some, it's pretty crap. She practically lives in that library." She smirked and glanced to you,"Detective stories? Really? You need to grow up, freak."
Your eyebrows pulled upwards, your body shrinking further into the plastic seat. You sniffed, feeling like you were about to burst out crying as you eyed your fiddling fingers. You saw John scowl at the girl and felt the slightest grateful. The sociopath clenched his fists as the lecturer hushed the girl, muttering something about a "little chat" later but Sherlock didn't seem satisfied.
The detective calmly strolled to the girl's desk, gloved hands clasped behind his long coat. You were even envious of the way it delicately swished as he walked. You decided there and then that you wanted a long coat like his.
"Are you saying that I should choose you instead?"
She flipped some hair behind her shoulders,"Why not? I mean, it'd be more interesting that looking at that all day." She darted a glittery-pink painted fingernail your way, her bright red lips curling upwards in distaste.
"And you think you'd be more useful. Why?" Sherlock arched an eyebrow.
She giggled as if he had just said something funny. "Because I'm better than her any day and I'm smart."
"Says the girl who thinks detective stories are stupid." Commented Sherlock, staring at her so intensely that the girl couldn't help but squirm slightly. "It is my business to know everything as a detective, hence how I know you've been cheating on your boyfriend along with your tests." Sherlock's lips lifted condescendingly,"Smart? No. Definitely not. Your parents bribed the university to get you in."
John pursed his lips as the girl paled, her expression turning to one of horror. "Sherlock." He warned, his friend ignoring him as he practically snarled at the girl.
"How did you-"
Sherlock smirked and you couldn't help but laugh underneath you breath as her cheeks blanched considerably. "Science of deduction." The detective dismissed, spinning on his heel sharply to face you again.
"Name." He stated, blinking rapidly.
"Y/N." You gulped, licking your lips nervously.
"John Watson." John introduced with a smile on his lips despite himself.
Oh, I know, you thought.
"We'll save the pleasantries for later." Sherlock shook his head,"Now, are you ready for an adventure Y/N?" Sherlock tilted his head, his expression slightly cocky.
You pushed yourself from your desk, ignoring how the teacher objected to your taking part in these dangerous activities. You blew away a lock of hair, taking your jacket from the back on your chair and slinging it on before you met his pale eyes with your own.
"Oh, God, yes." You breathed, grinning widely.
Sherlock's lips twisted into a lop-sided smirk again at that,"Brilliant." Before anyone else could get one word in he darted off, John shooting you exasperated look to which you simply returned with a excited smirk. You both dashed after him, the rest of the class watching you with dumbfounded expressions as you disappeared behind the class door.
"Sorry, Miss." You apologized sarcastically to the teacher as you went,"Gunna pop out for a bit." You saluted jokingly to all your classmates, savoring this moment,"Have fun."
And so you dashed after the eccentric Sherlock Holmes, adrenaline already riddling your veins with it's power. Unbeknownst to you, this adventure was the beginning of many with Sherlock Holmes and Doctor. John Watson.
Just the three of you against the rest of the world.
A/N: This is my first imagine so tell me what you thought of it. I loved writing this, I've had it in my head since forever. Whenever I was bored in lessons, I'd just imagine Sherlock suddenly falling into the classroom through the window with an exasperated John following closely behind. He'd need an extra eye and I would bail out of class in a heartbeat to assist him. Is that worrying? Probably.
~Kiya221B