The New English Teacher (1/?)
Title: The New English Teacher (1/?)
Author: draculas_bride
Characters: Sherlock, John, and a cast of teenage students for Sherlock to abuse (Sherlock/John will be heavily implied later)
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings: THIS IS CRACK. And it was written late last night, so I'm not sure if it makes sense.
Disclaimer: Sherlock, the character and the series, are not mine. The OCs, however, are.
Summary: No one expected the new English teacher at George Washington High School to be quite like this. Aka, the story of two American high school students stuck in an English class taught by none other than everyone's favorite Grammar Nazi, Sherlock Holmes
"So, did you hear about the British Invasion?"
Emilie glanced up from her Chemistry homework at her best friend, Alice, who slid into the seat next to her. “What the hell are you talking about?” Emilie frowned and erased the entirety of her work for problem seven. Fucking chemistry made no sense.
“Mr. Frank’s sub is this English guy, Dr. Watson. I had him last period,” Alice replied.
“One English sub isn’t enough to qualify as an Invasion, Alice.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “If you let me finish you’d get it. Mr. Wood’s sub is English too, from what I hear.”
“Hmm.” I should have done this shit last night Emilie thought caustically, glaring at her chemistry homework. “I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” she mumbled, “since we’re in Mr. Wood’s class and all.”
“I also heard from Sarah that he’s a total asshole,” Alice continued. “She had him this morning. Said he insulted just about everyone in the class. Apparently he’s some kind of genius. Do you have any gum?” Alice didn’t wait for a response before plunging a hand into the front pocket of Emilie’s bag.
“Sounds like fun. I wonder if it was him or Mr. Wood who graded our essays. Because I’m pretty sure I bombed the last one. I made up some bullshit about snow symbolizing a new start. I actually have no idea.”
Alice snorted as she unwrapped the stolen piece of gum. “I said the pigeon symbolized travelling.”
Emilie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the entrance of a tall, dark haired man wearing a sharp suit. If she was being completely honest with herself, Emilie would admit that the newcomer (He must be the sub, her mind supplied) was actually really good looking.
But that would include looking past his patronizing glare around the room.
At that moment, Emilie really, really hoped Mr. Wood graded their essays.
The room of high school seniors quickly fell silent, a feat in and of itself, especially considering the man hadn’t said anything yet.
Finally, after a long moment, “Your last teacher left me these…essays,” Emilie and Alice exchanged worried looks at how forced the last word sounded, “if any of this rubbish can be considered essay material, for me to grade.” The man dropped the stack of papers on the desk beside him. “I’m shocked that any of you made it to this point, with your complete lack of grammatical and analytical skills.”
Subconsciously, Emilie made note of the sexy tone of the sub’s voice. It was very deep and unmistakably British. If she wasn’t so terrified of the man she’d be swooning. As it was though, she was mostly concerned with the nosedive her grade almost definitely took.
Emilie glanced to her left at Alice, who was scribbling something feverishly on a scrap of paper. Discreetly, Alice passed it to her.
I’ve never been so turned on by someone so insulting ;)
Emilie snorted softly. Alice always looked on the bright side. Emilie turned the piece of paper over and began scrawling a response.
Sexy, yes. Intimidating as hell, even more so.
Emilie began to push the note over to Alice when it was suddenly snatched from her hand. Emilie froze. To her left she heard Alice make a pained noise in the back of her throat. Raising her eyes slowly, so slowly, Emilie’s green eyes locked with their English sub’s blue eyes. His narrowed, aggravated-looking blue eyes.
Emilie cleared her throat awkwardly and resisted the urge to go sprinting out of the room.
“Names?”
Emilie blinked up at the man, having apparently lost her ability to talk.
A raised eyebrow. Emilie realized that she had had no idea how very condescending a single raised eyebrow could look until that moment. “Names. Now.”
Emilie also hadn’t realized how much snark could be packed into two tiny words.
“Emilie,” she sputtered out after another long moment. “Emilie Baker.” Emilie heard Alice mutter her name a moment later, almost too soft to hear. Emilie had no doubt that the sub heard it though-if he was observant enough to catch the two of them passing notes, something they’re very good at being discreet at, he probably had super hearing too.
“Emilie Baker and Alice Kent.” The two girls exchanged sideways glances; Alice was beginning to look vaguely ill. “We’ll start class by discussing your essays. A good start, considering the horrific quality of them. The significance of snow and pigeons in a book where snow and pigeons are both incredibly insignificant. A winning start!” He shot them both a sarcastic half grin.
Emilie began seriously wondering if there was any way she could possibly sink into a hole in the ground at that moment.
The English man turned to walk back to the front of the class, presumably to continue his abuse of snow and pigeons in the duo’s essays. As he turned he very smoothly stole Emilie’s chemistry homework from her desk.
Emilie wondered if it would be considered overdramatic to throw herself out the window.
“Once you have a proper command of the English language, you can attempt to detangle the nomenclature of organic compounds. I’m sure it would prove useful, however, if you could properly communicate in a spoken language first. Unfortunately, based on your essay, I have my doubts concerning your abilities in that area.”
The sub slapped her half-finished chemistry homework on his desk next to the pile of doomed essays.
“Your last teacher may have been able to see straight through your false analyses, with your rubbish about pigeons and snow,” he shot Emilie and Alice a glance. Emilie felt as though he was literally looking down his nose at the two of them. “But I assure you, that will not be the case with me. If you don’t read what I assign, I will know.
"For example, you,” the sub turned his gaze to Chris Baldwin, who attempted to look nonchalant and failed miserably, “haven’t even read the back of the bloody book. During the past few days you’ve been far more concerned with repairing your quickly deteriorating relationship with your girlfriend to do much else. She thinks you’re too dumb to be with her. Frankly, she’s probably right. You think that the key to fixing your relationship is copious amounts of alcohol and sexual intercourse, so the two of you have been indulging frequently, often at your house since your parents aren’t home often. Despite your best attempts, things still aren’t getting better between the two of you, and that worries you. You care about her, more than you’d like to admit to anyone, even yourself, because it shows weakness. You’re an athlete, a swimmer, and you don’t want your teammates to mock you for your emotions. Your focus has been split between your girlfriend and your sport, resulting in a completely incoherent essay that has next to no relevance to the actual material of the book.”
Chris gaped at the man for a second before, “How…? You…What?” Chris shook his head, as if to clear it-Emilie imagined he was trying to forget that their British substitute just revealed details of his sex life to twenty five of his classmates-before finally continuing, “I didn’t even tell you my name.” Another pause, then, “Who are you?” Chris sounded half in awe and half horrified. Emilie was caught between being relieved the attention was off her and Alice and feeling bad for Chris.
“Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. Of course, you all will call me Mr. Holmes. Luckily for you all,” his blue eyes swept over the stone still teenagers,
“I am taking the place of your English teacher for the rest of the school year while your teacher is away.”
It was mid-October.
Alice visibly paled at the announcement. Emilie could only assume that she looked the same. From what she’d seen so far, Emilie didn’t know what students would be “lucky” to have Sherlock Holmes as a teacher.
“If any of you have any hopes of being admitted to a halfway decent university, you will listen and obey everything I say in concern to this class. With many teachers, you may be able to get away with this kind of work in secondary school,” he sighed exhaustedly and shook his head-apparently accepting high school students’ bullshit was something of a cardinal sin in Sherlock Holmes’ mind-before placed a hand on top of the essays, “but no self-respecting university will allow you to pass with writing of this quality.”
There was a long moment of silence. Vaguely, Emilie was impressed at the man’s ability to make a class full of high school seniors shut up without actually telling them to.
“Conclusion!” Mr. Holmes announced, bringing all attention back to him. “Read what I tell you to. Do what I say. Follow my word like gospel, and perhaps, perhaps, I can instill some form of intelligence into your tiny little brains.”
Part 2
A/N: Inspired by this prompt over at sherlockbbc_fic where Sherlock and Watson go undercover at a boarding school. I've tweaked it a little bit, but at its core its very similar, with Sherlock and Watson going undercover and teaching in a high school, though I've decided to ship them off to teach in America (since that's what I'm familiar with, schooling-wise). A reason will be explained for that later.