Life With Sherlock

Chapter 1

Coming back from boarding school in America was not as easy as she had expected. She was angry when her father had first sent her; something about wanting to keep her safe because he and his best friend went around solving murders together for fun and he didn't want her involved. Her first year of high school he sent her off to America by herself. She had felt abandoned and here she had stayed until she graduated. Graduation was a week ago and after packing up her belongings, she was standing in the airport terminal waiting to board her plane back to London. Back to home and family. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling. Her emotions were all over the place. One moment she was very happy she was leaving the place were she had made only one friend; the rest she had scared off with her quick wit and ability to see straight through people. Her high intelligence made her a teacher favorite, but hated by the rest of the students. Standing at the window she could see the plane that would take her back to her father. She loved him dearly even though he had sent her away, but now she was coming back and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He had come to visit her several times during her stay at boarding school. She had only been back to London once over a Christmas break and according to her father, had nearly gotten killed. She had followed him and his best friend on one of their many cases because she wanted to know what they were really doing. She didn't believe all the fanciful stories they told her. She wanted to see for herself. She had gotten in loads of trouble when "uncle" Sherlock had seen her. The problem wasn't that he had seen her, but that he had seen her and didn't tell her father, his best friend. Her father had found out when they got back to the flat and she wasn't there. Where her father was overly protective "uncle" Sherlock would let her do whatever she wanted. She was like her uncle in many ways; she was great at the art of deducing, solving puzzles and cyphers, and generally getting on people's nerves. That Christmas was her first and last trip home for a holiday. Her father had always come to visit her after that. Uncle Sherlock had never come to visit and she had missed him dreadfully over the past three years. She had kept up to date on his latest cases through her dad's blog, but she had minimal actual contact with him.

The sound of a voice over the loudspeaker announcing her flight brought her out of her reminiscing and dreams of the future. She picked up her bag and clutched her passport tightly in her hand. She walked up to the flight attendant and handed over her ticket and passport.

"Ms. Rosamund Watson." the attendant said looking up from the picture on her passport to her face.

"Yes. That's me." she replied as she gave him a quick once over. "Hair was very disheveled but he tried to brush it back down. Blonde hair, presumably female, on his clothing. Red lipstick smudged across his jawline. Looks as though he has joined the mile high club."

He gave back her passport and stamped her ticket. "Hope you have an enjoyable flight."

"I don't think it will be as enjoyable as your last flight." The flight attendant's face turned a reveling shade of red. He had confirmed her suspicions. He ushered her through the door. As she made her way to her seat in the plane she thought about what would happen when she landed. Her father had told her that he would be waiting with a cab to bring her home. Back to the place she loved being as a young child. Back to the place her father tried to keep her from, 221B Baker Street. She had spent endless hours as a young girl helping "uncle" Sherlock with his cases, until one day, shortly after she had turned ten, her father said that was enough. He told her she wasn't to visit again, but many times when she knew he was away for the day, she had gone to see her uncle. They had become almost inseparable through the years, Sherlock teaching her to master the art of deduction, until the day her father found out and sent her off to boarding school. Now she was on a plane home, not just to see her father, but to see her beloved uncle. She hoped nothing had changed between them in the years she was away. She prayed the camaraderie was the same as when she had left, but there was no way of knowing. She knew she had changed. She had gotten older and had lost her British accent in the years away from her mother country. She just hoped her uncle had remained the same and they could pick up from where they left off. Judging from her father's blog her uncle had remained the same old Sherlock.

The plane took off down the runway with a roar. This was it; she was finally on her way to London.