Turn to Page 394
"Turn to Page 394"
Pairing: none
Rating: G
Genre: crack, humour
Beta: none
Word Count: 1173
Notes: This is in response to this prompt over at the Sherlock BBC kinkmeme. This is the first time I've written for this fandom (though I've wanted to for a while now) so all concrit is much appreciated (and please be gentle with me! *L*) Also, it's basically been over a year since I've written anything period so this has been a nice change.
Sherlock paused on just the other side of the door to the small classroom which had become his domain for the week. He'd never wanted to be a teacher - never had the patience for students, not even when he was one himself - but when his favourite teacher from school, the one who'd actually listened to his ideas and tried to help steer his inquiries in still interesting but actually productive directions, had rung him and asked that he cover just a few classes for him while he recovered from an emergency hospital stay, well, how could he say no? Quite easily, it had turned out, but then John hadn't stopped staring then sighing at him and they hadn't had a case for weeks and Mrs Hudson had started on again about structural damage to the building so he'd changed his mind - provided, of course, he was allowed to avail himself to the chemicals in the lab.
It was his second day teaching and he had discovered after three periods the previous day that he could learn quite a lot by simply waiting outside the room and listening in on what the students inside were openly gossiping about. It had thus far proved to be an excellent way to pick out the potentially problematic students and this class seemed just as likely as the previous ones to provide Sherlock with ample data with which to deduce them before he'd ever laid eyes on them. Once he thought he'd heard enough, he pushed open the door just in time to hear a rather loud male student declare, "-had him yesterday and he says the bloke's a proper freak."
The class fell silent as Sherlock strode in, eyes flickering over the group as he immediately matched names with voices and opinions. He quickly identified the boy who'd spoken last - centre of the room, near the back, dirty blond hair lightened by sun exposure, brown eyes, taller than average, large leg muscles and larger arm muscles, tan arms but not shoulders and face but less so around the eyes = rower, most likely middle of the boat - and met his eyes. "Turn to page 394," he instructed, voice sharp as his gaze. The boy shifted a bit but didn't look away and Sherlock knew for certain then that he was the ringleader of this particular band of hooligans. The rest of the class had already followed the boy's example by not opening their books so clearly, Sherlock would have to put him in his place immediately or the whole class would be a write off. He mentally smiled in anticipation but kept his face straight as he barked, "You, rower," the boy's eyes widened and he sat up a bit straighter, though he didn't ask how Sherlock had known. Interesting and almost impressive, for a child. Almost. "Tell me everything you know about triethanolamine."
"What?" sneered the boy - Stevens, he now saw scrawled in abominable handwriting across the top of the boy's half-completed assignment. There was silence until a sighed, "Sir," was begrudgingly added.
"Triethanolamine," Sherlock repeated, scowling for having to do so. "Nothing? How about phosgene?" a blank stare, "No? Not a thing? How do you survive…" he mused, shaking his head in disbelief. Several of the students copied the motion though not in agreeance with him. "How about an easy one - hydrogen cyanide. Surely you must have some idea what that is!"
"Some kind of poison thing?" Stevens guessed, shooting a is-this-guy-for-real? look at the boy sitting next to him which Sherlock ignored.
"Almost correct, though given your complete lack of knowledge concerning the other chemicals I questioned you on I think it's safe to say that was more of a lucky guess than any actual intelligence on your part," Sherlock sighed and woefully shook his head.
Stevens' second mistake of the day was asking, "Look, sir, I'm not some chemist or doctor or anything so what's it matter if I don't know what Tri-whatsit and the others are? It's not like it has anything to do with anything…"
"Not anything to do with anything?" Sherlock repeated incredulously, taking a frustrated step towards the boy. "Not anything - it has everything to do with anything - even with you!" He ran his hand through his hair as he spun around to face the white board, missing the looks the students shared as he threw up the chemical formulae on the board. "Triethanolamine is an organic chemical compound used primarily as an emulsifier and surfactant. It's found in many cosmetic products from your girlfriend's makeup remover to your shampoo and your suncream without which you would most likely develop skin cancer given the amount of time you spend practicing in the sun. Phosgene is a chemical compound used in the production of isocyanates which are precursors to polyurethanes - which you'll find in your father's automobile seats as well as the exterior of your rowing boats - as well as polycarbonates - which you'll find are necessities for your DVD collection and sunglass lenses. Really, how you don't know any of this is stunning. And lastly," he continued, barely pausing to take breath, "hydrogen cyanide is the chemical precursor to sodium cyanide and potassium cyanide, both of which are used in gold mining which you should know, given your father is from Kalgoorlie."
The class stared at him in silent shock until one of the other boys nervously asked, "How'd you know his father's Australian."
"His accent," Sherlock replied, as though the minute influences from the father's accent upon the son's should have been as readily apparent to everyone else as it was him.
After a bit further silence, the boy spoke up again. "But what… what's that got to do with anything? Really? I mean, okay, so it's sunglasses or whatever but that's not… Tommy, who was in here this morning, he said they got to learn about interesting stuff, like chemical warfare and such. Why are we just talking about suncream?"
"We're not just talking about suncream and sunglasses," Sherlock replied, a smug grin spreading across his face. "I have been teaching you about chemical warfare. Haven't you been listening?"
"But you said-"
"I said triethanolamine, phosgene, and hydrogen cyanide, did I not?" Sherlock interrupted. "You can read about all of them if you would simply turn to page 394 of your admittedly often incorrect text book as I instructed you to do upon entering!"
A few students, not including either of the ones he'd spoken to, quickly flipped open their books until they found the suggested page. Stevens, the rower, doggedly demanded, "But how does that-"
"Must I spell everything out for you?" Sherlock snapped, finally losing all patience with them. "Triethanolamine is used in the manufacturing of nitrogen mustards - mustard gas. Phosgene which really you should have known, really, was one of the most extensively used chemical weapons during the first World War and hydrogen cyanide is one of the main ingredients of Zyklon B, used by the Nazis in their concentration camps. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?!"
Pairing: none
Rating: G
Genre: crack, humour
Beta: none
Word Count: 1173
Notes: This is in response to this prompt over at the Sherlock BBC kinkmeme. This is the first time I've written for this fandom (though I've wanted to for a while now) so all concrit is much appreciated (and please be gentle with me! *L*) Also, it's basically been over a year since I've written anything period so this has been a nice change.
Sherlock paused on just the other side of the door to the small classroom which had become his domain for the week. He'd never wanted to be a teacher - never had the patience for students, not even when he was one himself - but when his favourite teacher from school, the one who'd actually listened to his ideas and tried to help steer his inquiries in still interesting but actually productive directions, had rung him and asked that he cover just a few classes for him while he recovered from an emergency hospital stay, well, how could he say no? Quite easily, it had turned out, but then John hadn't stopped staring then sighing at him and they hadn't had a case for weeks and Mrs Hudson had started on again about structural damage to the building so he'd changed his mind - provided, of course, he was allowed to avail himself to the chemicals in the lab.
It was his second day teaching and he had discovered after three periods the previous day that he could learn quite a lot by simply waiting outside the room and listening in on what the students inside were openly gossiping about. It had thus far proved to be an excellent way to pick out the potentially problematic students and this class seemed just as likely as the previous ones to provide Sherlock with ample data with which to deduce them before he'd ever laid eyes on them. Once he thought he'd heard enough, he pushed open the door just in time to hear a rather loud male student declare, "-had him yesterday and he says the bloke's a proper freak."
The class fell silent as Sherlock strode in, eyes flickering over the group as he immediately matched names with voices and opinions. He quickly identified the boy who'd spoken last - centre of the room, near the back, dirty blond hair lightened by sun exposure, brown eyes, taller than average, large leg muscles and larger arm muscles, tan arms but not shoulders and face but less so around the eyes = rower, most likely middle of the boat - and met his eyes. "Turn to page 394," he instructed, voice sharp as his gaze. The boy shifted a bit but didn't look away and Sherlock knew for certain then that he was the ringleader of this particular band of hooligans. The rest of the class had already followed the boy's example by not opening their books so clearly, Sherlock would have to put him in his place immediately or the whole class would be a write off. He mentally smiled in anticipation but kept his face straight as he barked, "You, rower," the boy's eyes widened and he sat up a bit straighter, though he didn't ask how Sherlock had known. Interesting and almost impressive, for a child. Almost. "Tell me everything you know about triethanolamine."
"What?" sneered the boy - Stevens, he now saw scrawled in abominable handwriting across the top of the boy's half-completed assignment. There was silence until a sighed, "Sir," was begrudgingly added.
"Triethanolamine," Sherlock repeated, scowling for having to do so. "Nothing? How about phosgene?" a blank stare, "No? Not a thing? How do you survive…" he mused, shaking his head in disbelief. Several of the students copied the motion though not in agreeance with him. "How about an easy one - hydrogen cyanide. Surely you must have some idea what that is!"
"Some kind of poison thing?" Stevens guessed, shooting a is-this-guy-for-real? look at the boy sitting next to him which Sherlock ignored.
"Almost correct, though given your complete lack of knowledge concerning the other chemicals I questioned you on I think it's safe to say that was more of a lucky guess than any actual intelligence on your part," Sherlock sighed and woefully shook his head.
Stevens' second mistake of the day was asking, "Look, sir, I'm not some chemist or doctor or anything so what's it matter if I don't know what Tri-whatsit and the others are? It's not like it has anything to do with anything…"
"Not anything to do with anything?" Sherlock repeated incredulously, taking a frustrated step towards the boy. "Not anything - it has everything to do with anything - even with you!" He ran his hand through his hair as he spun around to face the white board, missing the looks the students shared as he threw up the chemical formulae on the board. "Triethanolamine is an organic chemical compound used primarily as an emulsifier and surfactant. It's found in many cosmetic products from your girlfriend's makeup remover to your shampoo and your suncream without which you would most likely develop skin cancer given the amount of time you spend practicing in the sun. Phosgene is a chemical compound used in the production of isocyanates which are precursors to polyurethanes - which you'll find in your father's automobile seats as well as the exterior of your rowing boats - as well as polycarbonates - which you'll find are necessities for your DVD collection and sunglass lenses. Really, how you don't know any of this is stunning. And lastly," he continued, barely pausing to take breath, "hydrogen cyanide is the chemical precursor to sodium cyanide and potassium cyanide, both of which are used in gold mining which you should know, given your father is from Kalgoorlie."
The class stared at him in silent shock until one of the other boys nervously asked, "How'd you know his father's Australian."
"His accent," Sherlock replied, as though the minute influences from the father's accent upon the son's should have been as readily apparent to everyone else as it was him.
After a bit further silence, the boy spoke up again. "But what… what's that got to do with anything? Really? I mean, okay, so it's sunglasses or whatever but that's not… Tommy, who was in here this morning, he said they got to learn about interesting stuff, like chemical warfare and such. Why are we just talking about suncream?"
"We're not just talking about suncream and sunglasses," Sherlock replied, a smug grin spreading across his face. "I have been teaching you about chemical warfare. Haven't you been listening?"
"But you said-"
"I said triethanolamine, phosgene, and hydrogen cyanide, did I not?" Sherlock interrupted. "You can read about all of them if you would simply turn to page 394 of your admittedly often incorrect text book as I instructed you to do upon entering!"
A few students, not including either of the ones he'd spoken to, quickly flipped open their books until they found the suggested page. Stevens, the rower, doggedly demanded, "But how does that-"
"Must I spell everything out for you?" Sherlock snapped, finally losing all patience with them. "Triethanolamine is used in the manufacturing of nitrogen mustards - mustard gas. Phosgene which really you should have known, really, was one of the most extensively used chemical weapons during the first World War and hydrogen cyanide is one of the main ingredients of Zyklon B, used by the Nazis in their concentration camps. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?!"