Never Ending Game*A Sherlock, Moriarty fan fic*

Never Ending Game

Ch. 1
 --NINE YEARS OLD
(Loran and James)

I stared in awe at the dark haired boy who sat next to me facing the window. No, I didn’t have a school girl crush on him although admittedly he was definitely handsome. He intrigued me. In class he never spoke a word but I had been sitting beside him for a few weeks, each and every assignment handed out to him was done in a minute without a single mistake. In my eyes he was perfect. People, called him odd but I knew better. The fact that he was a genius was well hidden by his lack of talking.

The paper in front of me was filled out as well of course. I was no idiot but in comparison to the quiet boy who sat next to me, James Moriarty, I might have been. Everyone else in the classroom was still busily running their pencils across their papers occasionally stopping to contemplate a more difficult problem as I sat there trying to decipher the genius who sat beside me.

James moved his head away from the window a bit and met my gaze with an uninterested one before scanning the rest of the classroom stopping briefly at Sarah Becking, a freckled red head who sat with a stupid expression on her face a few rows across from us. Looking back at me he scanned my paper with his eyes nodding slightly as if satisfied. By now I was used to this action, it happened nearly every day. The only acknowledgement I ever received from his was a brief nod before turning back to the window. Honestly it irritated me to no end. How was I ever supposed to solve him if he never even spoke to me? I was determined to get him to speak.

Today I had brought along the rubix cube I had gotten for my birthday. I figured that a genius like him would enjoy solving problems as much as I did. Of course I had long since solved it and I was curious to see how long it took him to do it as well. The rest of class passed in its usual dull way and I swear I would have died if I didn’t have my thoughts to distract me. Once the bell rang James worked at his usual pace carefully and neatly putting everything in his back pack in the same order as he did every day. Long ago I had realized that he was a perfectionist and a neat freak, his clothes never had a wrinkle and were always more formal than everyone else’s. Most kid who tried that ended up bullied but as far as I could tell no bullies dared to mess with him. Like I said earlier he intrigued me, in a way he was my hero.

While everyone else unpacked their things I grabbed my bag and pulled out the waiting rubix cube. James took silent notice of it as I set it down on the desk for a minute so I could put away everything else. Quickly pushing my papers into my plain black folder I dropped my folder into my backpack and turned to Jim who was finishing zipping up his backpack. “James, have you ever tried solving a rubix cube?” I asked offering him the colorful cube.

He cocked an eyebrow slightly before lightly shaking his head. Beaming I tossed it to him. Catching it he looked down at it before looking up at me in confusion. “You want me to solve it?” He asked. Mentally throwing a party inside my head for managing to get him to speak I smiled.

“Of course, I know you can do it and honestly I want to see how fast you solve it. My fasted time is two minutes but that was after practicing. “ I explained. He nodded a tiny bit looking down at the cube for a second before his hands began to move. Silently I watched in amazement as he moved each piece perfectly and quickly to the right position. Glancing up at the school clock I realized it had taken him less than a minute. It had only been his first time.

“Wow.” Was all I could say for the moment, yes I had expected him to finish quicker than me but not THAT much quicker than me. “You really are a genius” I finally managed to breathe out.

He sighed before tossing the cube into the garbage that wasn’t too far behind our desk which were located in the back corner of the room. “You already knew that.” He stated evenly before beginning to walk out of the room.

I stared between him and the trash can where my rubix cube laid unnoticed in its coffin, our school trash can. Frowning a bit I grabbed my bag slinging it over my shoulder as I rushed after him. Catching up wasn’t too difficult since he always took the same path that I had by now memorized. “You owe me a rubix cube.” I muttered to him as I set my pace equal to his.

“No, I owe you a puzzle” he disagreed. “You got bored of that months ago when you stopped messing with it at recess.” My frown changed into a look of confusion as I wondered how he had known that. I always thought I was the one watching him not the other way around.

“You’ve been watching me then?” I questioned examining his face while I waited for a reply. What did he mean by a new puzzle? In all honesty the five hundred piece ones were just plain irritating.

He just kept looking forward. “I watch everyone” he answered. “You do the same thing so you can’t say it is odd. “ He added. A small smile cracked out from my straight lined face.

“Yes, I do” I admitted my small smile now large in comparison to my small face. “So what is this puzzle you are talking about then?” I asked making sure he didn’t drop the subject.

He smiled for the first time. “The biggest one out there, the real world” He answered making me look at him confused.

“Do you mean the crimes?” I asked hopefully. Yes, I was into that sort of thing. It was entertaining to try and solve the mystery before the cops. Most of the time though I couldn’t because police were a bit reluctant to give out any information on ongoing cases, instead I would settle for the old relics of unsolved cases.

He shook his head with an amused smile on his face, “Why of course. They are much more interesting than any rubix cube. “Beaming I nodded in agreement before climbing onto the bus with James Moriarty, the person who would later be my best friend.

All three of them loved to solve puzzles
They just took different paths
The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?
Two of them made sense but the third?
Well, she had her reasons.
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I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.