Summary: Y/N Ashborne, a Lord’s daughter, studies at Oxford university until married. She meets a young man who is a little reckless and who seems to have found a liking in her.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Somehow, by the time they did spend together, James became a dear friend of you.
Though whispers of habits spent late at night did not go unnoticed.
You had heard of the many reckless nights spend by him and girls.
You found out James liked to cause fights in pubs, on the school grounds and on the streets.
But this all stood in contrast to the way he seemed to behave around you.
Of course he was charming and a little harsh. As if every action was already overthought and calculated.
It remained a reason, as to why you didn’t know anything about James life.
Sure, you knew he was incredibly smart and mysteriously reckless, but you failed to understand where he came from. What life he had left behind. You were sure to not ask him, for you weren’t sure you really wanted an answer.
There was one thing you knew for sure, spending time at Oxford with James, was far more pleasant than spending time at home.
You had just arrived back from your family. Happy to be back at Oxford, where things were more simple for you.
Sure, classes took a toll on you, but you didn’t have to live up to your parent’s expectations. For they, didn’t care much what you did at Oxford.
It had been sat in stone pretty soon, that you were only allowed to study at Oxford, if you would marry after graduation.
That was the foundation for an intellectual wife, your father always said.
Your home always reminded you of what was expected of you.
You had found James nearly as soon as you arrived. He was always just there.
He was merely walking into the library, when you saw him.
“Mister Moriarty.” You exclaimed.
He turned and smiled a little.
“Miss Y/N.” He said mockingly.
“You are back!” He stated, looking at you.
He was holding a book in his hand, surely flitting through it’s pages before you were there.
“What book were you reading?” You asked interested.
“Oh it’s nothing.” He said simply, closing the book and immediately holding it at his side.
“Philosophy” he said then.
You weren’t sure he was telling the truth. It seemed strange he didn’t show you.
“I’m glad I found you.” You smiled instead if saying something else.
“My time at home was filled with a lot of lonely walks.” You added, trying to lighten the mood.
“Now you have company.” He said.
“Today is the new school year’s celebration before dinner.” You said.
James shrugged his shoulders.
When you were sitting in the large dining hall, James couldn’t help but look at a certain porter, who seemed strangely out of place. You tried talking to him but the conversation went elsewhere.
When everyone was clapping along to Hodge’s welcoming words for the new students, James stood beside you, though his focus seemed to be elsewhere.
Then, the porter was talking to Mycroft Holmes and Hodges. James was watching them contently.
“What is it with them?” You asked.
“He doesn’t fit in.” James said, completely out of focus.
You didn’t ask further questions, though you wanted to know why James was so secretive.
A day later, you had your remaining belongings brought to your chambers.
When a knock appeared at her wooden doors, you opened expecting it to be the older porter, who had worked here for years, but seeing no other than the young men James had recently stared at.
“Oh.” Y/N only looked at him for a minute.
“Lady Ashborne, these are your remaining travel documents.” The porter said casually. “Oh yes, bring them in.” You opened the door further, pointing at the table in the middle of your chambers.
“You can leave them here.”
Turning around to look at him. “You are new.” “Yes.” He said.
But before he was walking out the door, you asked “You were talking to Mycroft Holmes and the Professor at dinner yesterday evening.”
He turned around, looking at you too. “Yes.”
“Do you know any of them?” You asked.
“I do know Mycroft Holmes a bit.” He stated.
You wanted to know more about him.
“It seemed like a conversation between two people who know each other.” You explained. “Well Miss Ashborne, if that is everything I’ll leave.” You felt silly. Why would a total stranger tell you personal information. Why did you want to know anyway. It was James who was interested.
So you took a look at your suitcases and returned to look at him with a polite smile instead. “Yes, thank you.” and then, before he left, you added, “I’m sorry for keeping you.”
Only a day later, you and James were sitting in a class together. The professor was asking a question regarding to one of his books, though no one had an answer.
Eventually, the answer didn’t come from the students in the class but from outside of it. Someone, who had merely just passed by.
You turned to look who read the Professors book.
In the door stood the porter who had caught James attention and who, kindly, had brought you your belongings the day prior.
He is smart, you thought.
After the class, James told you he would remain and go to the library afterwards.
James didn’t tell you he would be waiting for the porter in Hodge’s class. Because he had recognised a pattern. The young man made his way over to the chalkboard and began to answer the homework. And so it was, that James and Sherlock became acquaintances.
James was the first to initiate a handshake. “James Moriarty.” He stated with a smirk. “Sherlock Holmes.”
A week later Y/N had searched for James in whole Oxford. It was something that occurred strangely often since her return.
Her Professor had told her that Jamed needed to submit his exam. Soon.
This particular situation had happened more than once. James seemed to submit later or way too late and still managed to get the highest grade possible.
So she searched for him everywhere.
It was strange enough that she hadn’t seen him all day. Usually he would have been waiting for her outside of the class either way.
It had been raining when Y/N nearly gave up searching. She had made it inside nearly on time, only a few drops of rain had gotten onto her cloak and her dress, her hair had gotten much more soaked. “Great” she thought.
If he isn’t in there, it is his own problem. She told herself.
The only place left she could think of now was the library, though she thought he may have been studying, she found him sitting at the far back, between library shelves.
Opposite him, sat the new porter. The one he had been observing. A bottle of alcohol on the table and glasses in hand.
“James!” Y/N stated, already walking along the vast bookshelves. The library now empty.
The young men besides James turned around immediately. James, in difference, didn’t look at her. He simply smiled.
“Y/N.” he stated shortly after.
When you had reached them, you smoothed out your dress, relieved the search had been done.
“I’ve searched everywhere for you!” You said exhausted.
He turned to look at you, smiling.
“You searched for me?” He asked, almost amused.
“Yes.” You said casually. Looking at him as if it didn’t matter.
He scooted over, making space for you. It had become a habit.
Though you didn’t sit down immediately, taking off your gloves first.
James watched you for a moment. Observed, like he always did.
“You came here in the rain?” He asked.
“It was only a little.” You said.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I managed perfectly well.”
James looked at you for another moment, before looking back at the man infront of him.
“This is Sherlock Holmes.” He stated.
“Holmes?” You asked Sherlock.
“You are related to Mycroft!” You said, excitedly. “I am.” Sherlock said with a smirk.
James looked between the two of you.
“You know him?” James asked suspiciously, trying to sound unaffected. Though you knew he didn’t like it from the way he seemed to stop your conversation.
“I know his brother.” You stated, taking off the second glove and laying it on the table in front of you.
“He often works with my father. He knows him rather well.” You added.
“Ah.” James said, looking at Sherlock.
“Of course.” There was an edge in his voice. You noticed but couldn’t quite put your finger on why it annoyed him.
“Thank you again for my belongings, Mister Holmes.” You said eventually.
“Why have you searched for me?” James interrupted again. This time, with his familiar smirk. He leaned back in his chair, now more relaxed, as your attention was back on him.
“The professor wants your exam as soon as possible James. You are late!” You stated as you sat down next to him.
“You need to submit it, James.”
“I will.” He said, taking his glass that sat in front of him in his hand to move the liquor in it.
“You said that last week.”
“And yet, I am still here.”
“And I want you to look over my writing.” You said then.
“Why are you here drinking anyway?” You asked both of them.
“Lovely Y/N.” He smirked again.
He had used his charm as a disatraction from you questions a lot.
When you didn’t say anything in response, his smiled faded. He studied you for a moment. Chin moving upward, in acknowledgment.
“I suppose that was everything you had to tell me.” He said then. Voice a little less playful now.
You stood up again, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed in your dress.
“I suppose that was everything.” You said simply, not wanting to let him know you were upset.
“Goodnight James.” You added.
“Yes there is you’ve been wandering through the grounds alone.”
“I can manage.” You said quietly.
As James stood up, putting on his jackett she turned to look back at Sherlock.”
Sherlock, who had been observing everything for the past few minutes. Who had been sitting quietly opposite to James.
“Well then, goodnight Mister Holmes.” You turned to him, taking the gloves from where they were lying on the table.
“Goodnight Miss Ashborne.” Sherlock said in response.
You linked your arm in his and left.
When James returned, Sherlock was still there.
James poured himself another glass.
“You are observing. What is it?” He asked.
“She calls you by your first name.” He said shortly as James was sitting down opposite to him.
He looked up at Sherlock, expression neutral.
“Y/N is a friend of mine.” James simply said in response, a smirk now on his face. He leaned back and drank out if his glass.
“Lady Ashborne is a friend of yours?” Sherlock asked, not believing him.
“How so.” Sherlock seemed to stare. His eyes bore into James.
He pretended to think of a word to describe her. Raising his eyebrows, he mockingly said, “sweet.”
“She’s a lady, she’s a lord’s daughter!”
But then neither of them spoke.
James looked back at his glass, before glancing at Sherlock and breaking the silence.
“She asks me for help with her classes.” James said, taking another sip, then watching the liquor in move.
He said it as if it was explanation enough.
James knew this wasn’t the correct answer.
He searched you out most times.
He waited for you in hallways, he escorted you most days.
“You should be careful.” Sherlock said.
A full, hearty laugh, loud and clear. As if Sherlock had said something amusing.
“You and your moral compass.” He said mockingly.
He took another sip, emptying his drink, then setting it down. The glass hit the table with a loud clink.
And with that, the conversation was over.
Somehow, they all became friends.
Studying became a habit and if sherlock had nothing better do to, he joined them in the library or the park.
Y/N grew accustomed to their arguments. Their bickering and speculations over one another.
They were able to turn everything in an argument.
Sometimes even the most underrated and unspectacular aspects seemed to become an argue aspect.
You found that, Sherlock and James, were a planet and a moon, drawn together by a gravitational force. But this draw also was what kept them in contest. It was what kept them to be better than the other. Outsmarting the other, each on their own, constantly challenging each other’s minds.
You found, that James seemed to challenge Sherlock in a way, he never had before.
You also noticed the way your friendship had become inevitable.
James had grown fond of you, he couldn’t deny that anymore.
In the beginning he found you amusing.
Something unexpected that kept his mind occupied.
Then you had become familiar.
And soon, he searched out for you.
Now, he noticed when you were gone. Noticed the way it made him feel.
James didn’t like this aspect. Didn’t like to let any person come too close.
So he tried to keep his distance.
But it was difficult. Because each time he tried to stay away, you found him.
One evening, he had avoided the library. And when he later walked past it, you saw him, quickly walking up to him.
“Mister Moriarty.” You had said.
“You weren’t at the library.” You stated.
“Oh.” You had said simply, looking almost sad, hiding it behind a small, polite smile.
“Well then, I won’t keep you.”
And you had made your way back to your table.
It made his life more difficult.
