Sherlock sat up against the tree at the edge of the playground. He never understood why the other children wanted to spend an hour every school day running around, getting sand in their shoes and jumping off swings. Their classes were so slow and dull this was the only time he ever actually got to learn anything of relevance. Of course the other children thought it was strange an eight year old boy spent his lunch breaks reading scientific journals but he was soon learning not to care.
"I like your book" Came voice from above him, he looked up to see a girl, with long black hair and blue eyes staring at him from her place in the tree, "But the print is a little small for me to read, what's your name?"
He recognized her of course, he knew the faces of everybody at this school, she was in the year below him but he didn't know her name. He never really bothered with names.
"Sherlock Holmes, Why are you in the tree?" He asked tiredly, best he got rid of her quickly.
"Nice name, I'm Clara,