"Jim! Jim, love? There's a bit at the door for you!" Jim's mother, a female replica of Jim himself, calls up the stairs before he looks back to give the boy stood there an apologetic smile for not knowing his name.

The house is silent for a moment, and Jim's mother is just about to shout again, but then there's the sound of Jim's rushed, elephant-like footsteps are heard and the overexcited teen shouts in joy when he appears at the top of the stairs, running down and making a beeline for Sherlock. From the corner of his eye, Sherlock sees Jim's mother tense as she worries Jim will fall.

From a brief moment, Sherlock told that Jim might hug him because it sure looked like that was what he planned. Instead, Jim stops right in front of him and grins up at the older boy.

"You actually came?!" Jim asks, disbelieving. "I half expected you to cancel!"

Sherlock half grunts the words "Me too"

Behind him, Jim's mother clears her throat. Jim freezes, as if just realising n something. He turns to face his mother with a sheepish smile and scratching the back of his head as he laughs nervously. Jim's mother looks from Sherlock to Sherlocks bags to Jim.

"Uh.. M-Mum, is it okay for Sherlock to stay over the night?"

Sherlock narrows his eyes, realising that Jim hadn't asked his parents (parent?) about him stay yet. What an idiot.

Jim's mother sighs and nods. "Yes, fine. But next time, do give me some warning Jim"

Jim nods and picks up one of Sherlock's bags - the one with the sleeping bag in - and shrugs it on his shoulder. Sherlock hesitates but doesn't protest and lets Jim carry the bag.

Jim then smiles at Sherlock and bounds over to the stairs, pecking his mum's cheek before heading up the stairs and gesturing for Sherlock to follow.

Sherlock follows, briefly introducing himself to Jim's mother and allowing her to do the same. Best he be polite. No doubt she had her hands full with that forgetful son of hers.

When they reach Jim's room, Jim places the bag he carried by the blow up mattress that was set out at the bottom in Jim's bed in the open space. Jim then sits on his bed and begins to sorts out some papers laying there while Sherlock takes the chance to look around the room.

Jim's walls were painted a pale blue that looked like it was almost grey - not that Sherlock could see all that much of the walls. The longest wall in the room, directly opposite the door, was covered in photographs of different sizes. They made up a large, messy collage. It was very Jim.

Sherlock couldn't tell if they were all Jim's photos and decided to ask later.

Across from Jim's simple double bed, which was covered in a navy blue quilt and matching pillows, on the wall sat a decent sized flat screen TV, below which sat an Xbox that had probably seen better days.

Jim had minimum furniture in the room and if a single piece was taken away, the room was likely feel bare. Besides the bed, he also had a small desk and chair, a wardrobe and a charming bookcase full of books. Sherlock's guess, going by the wood used, was that the furniture came as a set.

The room wasn't huge or flashy. Nor was it tiny and plain. Sherlock rather liked it.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come look at the theme list I made?" Jim laughs, patting the bed.

Sherlock rolls his eyes and heads over to the bed, sitting opposite the bed and holding his hand out for the piece of paper Jim held titled 'THEMES'.

1. Survival

2. Histrorical

3. Nature

4. Services

5. Life and Death

6. Royality

7. Emotions

8. Holidays

9. Camping

10. Daily Life

11. Theatre

12. Fame and Fortune "There's twelve" Sherlock says, the hint of a question in his tone as he glances up from the paper.

"I'm aware" Jim replies with a small laugh.

"You said they'd be ten"

Jim shakes his head and corrects Sherlock "I said they'd be ten minimum"

Sherlock nods and purses his lips before looking down at the sheet. A small smile slides on his lips, excitement bubbling within him (and Jim's happy go lucky attuttide was really beginning to rub off on him). He hears Jim's breath catch as it had a few times before and when Sherlock loooks up Jim has a torture expression on his face, like he needed something so badly it hurt that he couldn't have it.

Before, Sherlock had assumed that Jim fancied him and that these expressions were him forcing himself not to do something stupid like kiss Sherlock but now he realised just how much Jim loved his work with photography. Sherlock was simply a pretty centre piece for Jim to work with.

While the feelig of rejection settled in Sherlock's chest uncomfortably, he understood that he needs to follow his own advice about jumping to conclusion more often. He always told John that it was dangerous and as he sat here across from a boy he believed would one day make a move on him, he realises just how dangerous it was to jump to conclusions.

He didn't like Jim in that way. He had just grown used to the idea of Jim liking him. It was nice to have someone show an interest. It gave Sherlock an ego boost in an area that he'd never been all that confident in - relationships. Now that he'd realised him wasn't interested, the confidence from the whole situation was sent crashing to the floor and being obliterated into tiny, pathetic pieces.

Clearing his throat, Sherlock returns his attention to the list. "So what kinds of shots will be taken for each of these?"

Jim smiles. Sherlock wonders if the boy was ever sad. "There will be four or five sub-catagories to each theme and probably six to eight pictures for each sub-catagory. We'll be taking a lot more than I'm going to use in the portfolio, though..." Jim pauses, trails off and then laughs at himself "And you didn't ask a thing about numbers, did you?"

Sherlock shakes his head, smiling (Jim's mood really was infectious). "No, I didn't"

Jim laughs again, scratching his head. "The kind of shots are going to vary hugely. I've made a word document of ideas on my laptop but we need to go through them carefully together. Also, you can suggest ideas then, along with letting me know if you're comfortable with the shots - I think there's a few that would require you to take off your shirt and there are definitely ones where you'll be needing to dress up and wear make-up. But, we'll do that later"

"Why not now?" questions Sherlock, raising an eyebrow.

Jim checks his watch. "Pizza will be here in about five miutes. We ordered before you came.. I hope you eat meat"

Sherlock hesitates. "Yeah, I do.. But, er, your mother didn't know I was coming"

Jim laughs and waves it off as he collects up the papers on his covers. "Don't worry. Frankly, we are pigs and mum'll love you for helping her cheat less on the diet she's supposedly on. At this rate, she's going to pig out on her date and embarrass herself"

"Oh. Your dad's taking her out?" Sherlock asks, wanting to be polite and also subtly prying into Jim's life.

Jim's quiet for a moment as he stands and crosses to his draws, placing the papers inside the top left one. "Uh.. No. Not my dad. Her boyfriend is."

"Do you not like him?" Sherlock wonders, picking up on the change in Jim's tone.

Jim looks up, eyes wide. He shakes his head and that friendly smile is back and he's laughing again. "God. No. I love Jackson. He's lovely and so nice to mum, she derserves a good guy"

Sherlock nods, unsure of what to say now. Whatever was wrong with Jim, he seemed to get over it quickly. Jim moves and sits on the bed again, in the same position as before. He sends Sherlock a soft smile.

"I, uh.. For prying, I'm, er.."

Jim shakes his head again and waves it off. "Don't be. It's fine - just don't ask about him in front of much. He's like the Moriarty residence equivalent to Hogwart's Voldemort. Oops, I mean you-know-who."  

"Volde-what?" Sherlock frowns, having no clue what Jim was on about.

Jim gapes at the other "How can you not know who Voldemort is? Harry Potter, Sherlock!"

"That wizard thing?"

Jim just laughs and pats Sherlock's shoulder as the doorbell goes down stairs.

"You poor, uneducated child" Jim shakes his head in sympathy as he climbs off the bed again and heads towards his bedroom door.

He opens the door and looks back to Sherlock, who is still sat there, as his mother's voice echoes up the stairs calling 'boys!'. Jim raises an eyebrow before he laughs again and gestures for Sherlock to follow him.

Smiling, Sherlock stands and follows.