Chapter 3: Mind Mansion

Sherlock frowned at his notepad. On the next blank page he scrawled everything he knew about John. If he ever couldn't figure something out, he wrote down all the necessary information, then when he reread it he might pick up on something he'd overlooked. A method he had adopted a year ago, after he met Miss Adler.

Sherlock was sitting in his usual spot at the back of the classroom, waiting for the lesson to begin. Miss Adler strode into the classroom five minutes late. She had been the class' substitute teacher for three weeks, that being the beginning of her fourth week. She didn't look stressed, the way any late running teacher would, so Sherlock assumed she had been talking with the head master. It must've been about something good, by the way she was trying to hide a smile. He also noticed that she wasn't wearing her ID badge, which she had warn every day since her start. That could only mean that...

"...I'm going to stay on to be your full time English teacher," she announced, the students all looked thrilled and burst into an excited chatter. Sherlock suppressed a smug look, it took five seconds, maximum, for him to figure that out. All she had done was walk into the classroom.

"All right, can we keep it down?" Miss Adler called as she handed out sheets of paper. "The work I've set should be pretty easy going. On the paper, as you can see, is a piece of text advertising a theme park. I want you to analyse the persuasive devices used in the text and explain why they were used and how it would influence the reader into considering going to the theme park. Everybody understand?"

It was a simple way of saying that the class could spend the lesson messing around as long as they read a few lines. They had done work similar only a week ago, with a different advertisement. Nevertheless, Sherlock read the it and underlined certain words, writing notes in the margins. When he looked up, after five minutes, he saw he was the only person who not only had finished, but had started. Miss Adler was busy on her computer. With a heavy sigh Sherlock started deducing his fellow students, something that helped him pass the time, it was going to be a long hour.

"Go on, ask her, I dare you," Sherlock heard a boy ask Andy. Keeping his eyes fixed on his desk, he listened out for the reply.

"No, you do it," Andy replied, with nervous laughter.

"Come on, I dared you, you've got to," he replied, Sherlock saw him nudging Andy. The boy looked expectantly at Andy who was clearing his throat.

"Miss?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, her focus remaining on her computer.

"Are you single?" he asked, keeping a straight face.

"Excuse me?" she asked, wheeling her chair away from the computer so she could stare him down. "Is it any of your business?"

"No, I..." Sherlock saw him struggle, as he saw Miss Adler struggle to maintain her cool, he had touched a nerve.

"Her availability is irrelevant and shouldn't rationally be of interest to you. Not only would it be illegal for her to have a relationship with you, but she'd have to overcome the desire to physically harm you, which she's doing a good job at so far. I wouldn't push it though, let's not risk both a concussion and her career," Sherlock interrupted, loud enough to be heard while maintaining a monotone.

"What did you just say?" Andy challenged as he turned to look at Sherlock.

"Enough!" Miss Adler bellowed, lowering her voice having had his attention, "I don't want to hear a word out of you, either of you, okay? I wanted this to be a nice relaxed lesson. I see you'd rather stay in silence. Get on with your work."

After the class had settled and only a low murmur of talking could be heard, the tension in the air dissipating, Miss Adler got up from her desk and walked to the back of the class. She sat on Sherlock's desk, her back to the class.

"Thanks," she said. He looked up at her, he could tell there was something she wasn't sure she should say.

"It was more for petty reasons I said what I said," Sherlock admitted, "but it wasn't his place to ask personal questions."

"How..." Sherlock saw a small smile on her face before she continued her question, "How did you know I was single?"

"The tan line," he stated, to which he got a puzzled look, "on your finger. A wedding ring has been removed recently. You can't have gotten that tan in the UK, even if you'd have sunbathed the entire length of the summer. You could have used a tanning machine, but that's not likely. Judging by the slight tone to your accent I'd say you've been used to speaking Spanish for some time. So it's not likely you were honeymooning. No, you were living there, right?"

She looked at him in stunned silence. Not of a word of it was false.

"How did you..." she began, he didn't look like he was playing a prank on her, "You can't just know."

"I don't know, I notice," he said, emphasizing both 'no' sounds, like it was his catchphrase.

"Go on, do it again," she asked, amused.

"You've not worn an item of clothing twice in the three weeks you've worked here, all of them brand new designer which I doubt you can afford. The money was probably from your ex-husband as a way of an apology, probably for having an affair, which is why you've spent it so quickly. You've incorporated red into your wardrobe most days, further supporting your availability, but you're not looking for a romance. More likely a one-night-"

"Okay, Sherlock, I get the picture. Well, since I am the picture." Miss Adler interrupted him mid-flow.

"People often interpret my objectivity as personal insults," he said, blankly.

"You just need to be more sensitive," she said, giving him a friendly half-smile. As she walked back to her desk the bell rang for lunch. "Okay, everyone off you go. Andy, like I said to Sherlock, you need to be more sensitive."

The class filed out the door in a rush, Sherlock trailing behind.

"Sherlock, one thing," Miss Adler called as he reached the door.

"Yes, Miss," he replied as he turned back around.

"Your deduction wasn't one hundred percent accurate," she said, a challenging grin on her face.

"Oh," Sherlock said, the same grin on his face.

That night Sherlock sat at his desk with a newly bought notepad. His pen flew across the paper as it tried to catch up with his thoughts. It couldn't. So he had to take a minute to write what he had already thought, without thinking of something new to write. Something that required a lot of restraint. What had started as a blank page with the words 'Miss Adler' in a circle at the centre, was now filled with scribbles, some with lines connecting them.

Comfortable he had gotten everything down, he read what he had written. Everything he could remember that concerned Miss Adler. She had challenged him earlier, by telling him his deduction wasn't accurate. She knew he'd see it as a challenge, so he assumed nothing was off limits.

For hours Sherlock studied the page. Reading and rereading. Growing more and more frustrated. Occasionally a new observation would pop into his head, which satisfied him momentarily, but it wouldn't help him with his main problem. Everything he had deduced he deduced again, finding new ways to confirm his accuracy. Nothing seemed wrong. But he knew she hadn't been lying. Eventually he called it a night, finding out it was way past midnight.

"Miss," Sherlock began, standing at Miss Adler's classroom doorway, ten minutes early for his third period lesson, "what wasn't accurate about my deductions?"

"Some things I can't divulge to my students, not because I don't want to but because my job doesn't allow me to say such things," she answered.

"But you're friends with the head teacher, he wouldn't fire you for telling me something personal," Sherlock said, thinking his teacher was smart enough to know that, at least.

"How did you know I'm friends with him?" she asked before it dawned on her, "of course, you noticed,"

A silence followed where Sherlock wasn't sure he was going to get an answer. He saw her thinking, what could possibly be so bad that she could get the sack, or more likely a warning, for? Unless that wouldn't actually happen and she was in fact giving him a clue.

If she wasn't friends with the head master maybe things would be different. So perhaps it's something trivial about her, something a friend would accept. Something trivial that could get you in trouble if you shared it with your students? Suddenly, after remember a news paper article he had read several months back, it hit Sherlock.

"A woman, you were with a woman," he said, perhaps a little too loud. This snapped Miss Adler out of her trail of thought.

"Speak from your diaphragm, you project further that way," she retorted, sarcastically.

"Sorry," Sherlock mumbled.

"I'm joking," she said with a laugh, "well, you have five minutes left until break's over, that is unless you'd rather start your mock exam early."

"Yeah, sure," Sherlock said, walking into the classroom.

"That was a joke too, you know," she said, not sure whether to keep her smile or not.

"I know," Sherlock said, nonchalantly.

As Sherlock read and read the words he had written about John, knowing there was something he was missing, something John was hiding, he took a minute to think about it from a different angle. Maybe he shouldn't try so hard, that's not what normal people do. They don't consciously deduce things, they get a feel for a person. They don't notice something about a person because they like knowing things, they notice something because they care. Maybe that's why he hasn't noticed it yet. Maybe he should at least try to care. Like Miss Adler told him a year ago, you just need to be more sensitive. He needed to stop seeing John as a page in his notepad. Maybe John can teach him how to be a real person.

A/N: Sorry it took longer than the others and I'm sorry John isn't actually in this. I just thought a flashback thing would be cool. I haven't edited it to the extent I usually do because I'm leaving for London soon and I won't be back for a few days. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, please leave reviews and suggestions (I'm still just winging it so any ideas on how the plot should develop would be cool). As for John's 'secret' we'll probably find out in one of the next few chapters, there are hints in the other chapters, though.