The Thrill of the Chase (Johnlock/Mystrade Teen!Lock)

Chapter Eleven

(A/N- Over 200 reads! Thanks heaps, my lovelies! Please vote/comment/share or really just tell me what you think! 

-CH xx )

Chapter 11

John’s POV

Sherlock’s alarm rang loudly throughout the otherwise silent room. Sherlock groaned as he reached over me to turn it off. We had been sleeping in his bed, our limbs in a tangle until his stupid alarm had gone off.

I always hated Mondays. Actually, everyone did. I began to get up, but Sherlock’s arm grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down. “Five more minutes,” he muttered into my ear.

I sighed. “Alright. Only five minutes, though.” I snuggled back down into Sherlock, and felt myself drift off to sleep.

“Five more minutes, Sherlock! We agreed! Five more minutes!” I shouted as I got up and hurriedly got dressed.

Sherlock smirked and followed suit. “Hey, you were the one who fell asleep again.”

“You didn’t bother to wake me up, and you turned off the alarm!”

“Relax, we’re only half an hour late for our first class.”

“We only have half an hour left, idiot!”

After we were ready, we ran out of the room and fastened the door, well, I rushed, Sherlock just took his time. We had English first, and our teacher wasn’t lenient at the best of times. I made my way towards our classroom, but Sherlock grabbed me by the waist, since everyone else was in class, and pulled me in close. “Relax,” he whispered, before letting me go, walking in the opposite direction.

“Sherlock!” I hissed, “where are you going?”

“To see Mycroft,” he replied, before turning to look at me with a small smirk on his face, “obviously.”

I sighed and ran after him, and tried to match his speed. Damn my little legs. We got to Mycroft’s office, and Sherlock barged right through, completely ignoring the objections by Anthea, Mycroft’s receptionist PA thing.

Sherlock stopped short in the doorway, and I banged into his back. I peered over his shoulder to see what was happening, and instantly regretted it. Mr. Holmes and Greg were having a heated make out session on Mr. Holmes’s desk.

“Oh, dear Lord…” Sherlock muttered, moving out of the way, into the office, and I followed him, closing the door behind me.

Mycroft and Greg had heard our entrance, and instantly sprung apart, like a couple of deer caught in the headlights.

“This is hardly professional, brother dear,” Sherlock said in a low voice, rolling his eyes.

“Why are you here? Why aren’t you in class right now?”

“We need late slips. We slept in,” Sherlock said, walking over to Mycroft’s desk, grabbing a stack of late slips in his gloved hand. Sherlock then turned to me and said: “I’m glad I’ve got my gloves on,” which caused me to giggle.

Sherlock then wrote our names out on two separate slips, handed them to Mycroft, who hesitantly signed us off, before we walked out, and went to our class.

“Well… That was… Embarrassing,” I commented as we walked side by side down the corridor.

“I agree. I’ve already made a mental note to knock first,” Sherlock replied with a low chuckle.

“Good idea.”

We got into our English class, and handed the teacher our slips. She was going to protest, but she saw Sherlock had written ‘Meeting with assistant headmaster’ and knew not to comment. We went and took our seats, and I continued reading ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ while Sherlock sat beside me, scribbling over his book.

“What’re you doing?” I whispered to him, looking over at his book. It looked like song lyrics, but I couldn’t tell, because he moved his book away swiftly.

“Nothing, you just do your work,” he whispered back, sending me a cheeky, playful smile.

I poked my tongue out at him in response, and then went back to reading. I found myself getting lost in the lives of Scout and Jem, and I was disappointed when the bell rang.

“You look disappointed,” Sherlock voiced my thoughts.

“I am. I’m really getting into that story,” I replied as we made our way to our next classes, which was maths.

We bid our farewells before going into our classes, and I found myself missing Sherlock’s presence. Oh well, I’d get to see him afterwards.

Sherlock’s POV

“Ugh!” I cried, as Lestrade sat down in the desk next to me, and I scooted myself and my desk further away.

“Oh, come off it will you?”             

“As John would say that was ‘a bit not good’, Gavin. Actually, that wasn’t good at all.”

“How many times must I tell you? My name isn’t Gavin, or Graham, even. My name is Greg.”

I rolled my eyes. “I actually don’t care. I’m scarred for life. I can’t lead a full life anymore with that image imprinted in my mind.”

Gavin sighed next to me, and I thanked the Lord as the teacher came into the room. At one point during the lesson, Gavin –or Greg or Graham, I’ve deleted his name from my memory already – leaned over to me and asked to borrow my eraser.

“Gah!” I cried, and nearly toppled off my seat, acting as though he had some vicious, contagious disease. Well I guess he did, he was snogging my brothers face off earlier in the day.

Everyone else was talking whilst doing their work anyway, so I didn’t get in trouble, not that I would care even if I did. I tried not to laugh as Lestrade took my eraser off my desk anyway, and began vigorously erasing something off of his page.

He threw it back, and it hit my head. “Ow!” I said, overdramatically, rubbing my head. “That’ll probably leave a bruise, I hope you realise!”

“Oh, grow up, Sherlock!” Lestrade hissed, going back to his work.

The bell eventually rang, and I raced out the door, because I knew otherwise Lestrade would probably hit me, and I bumped right into John.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

“Sherlock!” Lestrade called out behind us.

I grabbed John’s wrist. “Can you run?”

John nodded in confusion, but it was enough, so I grabbed his hand and began to weave through the other students.

We eventually got to our dorm room, and I fastened the door behind us. “What… Was that about?” John asked, panting.

I told John about my maths lesson, and by the end of my story, John and I were both in fits of laughter.

“You shouldn’t be so mean to him, Sherlock,” John laughed. “It could come around and bite us on the arse.”

“But not before he kisses Mycroft’s one.”

We both fell on the ground laughing hysterically.

 “Should we quickly go get some food?” I asked my boyfriend.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied with a grin.