Coming Back To You

Chapter 1

   "Mama! Mama look!" Willow exclaimed.

   "What is it sweetie?" Molly asked her daughter.

   "Mama the planes started to rise! Look! We're not on the ground anymore!" She exclaimed with excitement.

   Willow Hooper had been in hysterics since she learned that she and her mother would be moving to England. She knew her mother had lived in London before she was born but she didn't talk about it much, she always got a hint of sadness in her eyes when she talked about it. Though Willow didn't know it, she resembled her father very much. And her mother for that matter.

   She had the same color of hair as her mother but curly like her father. Her eyes were multi colored like her father with his cheekbones as well, where as she had her mother smile and nose. She inherited more them her father’s looks though. Yes, Willow Hooper was quite intelligent for a girl for a 6 year old. You could never lie to her and she somehow always knew how you were feeling, no matter how hard you tried to conceal.

   But today, she didn't notice her mother’s slightly concerned eyes. She was too wrapped up in the fact that, yes, she was actually going on a plane. Thousands of miles in the air, soaring with the birds. Why was Molly concerned, you may or may not wonder? She was very nervous of the fact she was going to the same city her ex-fiancée lived. The great ass-hole Sherlock Holmes. What if she were to run in to him? Or worse her, their, daughter.

   "Mama! I can see the whole city!" Willow said. Molly just smiled. "You can, can't you Willow? It is quite beautiful."

   After about an hour of pointing out exactly what she saw, whether it be a cloud slight resembling a bunny or a bird, Willow finally fell asleep. Molly was relieved. She was afraid Willow would be able to tell just how frightened she was to be going back to London. She'd got a nice 2 bedroom flat bear Bart's, where she would be working. She's long lost contact with anyone in London, save her family.

   Soon after Molly managed to fall asleep as well. She awake hours later to Willow practically shaking her. "Mama! Mama we're here! In London!"

   The two got off the plane and got their luggage fairly quickly and set of for their new apartment. The settled nicely. The first two nights were not perfect but one the rest of the furniture arrived they settled in quickly. Molly settled into her job and Willow came to on occasion, being looked after by some of the nurses, since there was no school and they hadn't found a day camp. Molly had retained some of her accent while Willow had an odd combination of part British, part Canadian. Her mother had told her to be careful about what she deduced. She only had one incident with one of the nurses in three weeks.

   The real trouble came a month later.

   Sherlock Holmes walked through the doors of Saint Bartholomew's Hospital. He didn't come as often granted, but he did come on occasion. This was one of the times. Willow noticed this tall curly haired man as soon as he walked through the doors. Something seemed oddly familiar about him to her. Like a distant memory...

   Willow had discovered the attic. It was in the hall closet, the ladder hidden on the celling. She stared at it. What was it? She got a stool and her fairy wand to try and reach it. She knocked the ladder and it came troubling down. 

   "Willow, what was that?" Molly called from downstairs. "Nothing! Just my books!" She called back. She hoped off the stool and onto the ladder. She climbed up, luckily she was quite tall for her age. The attic was dusty. You could see it trailing on the floor. Fortunately there was a large window were the sun’s rays poured in. She looked around. Mostly boxes, she started to look through them. Letter, files, pictures.

   Box after box, she looked for something her young mind deemed interesting. Finally she arrived at a photo album. On the front was a picture of Molly and someone else. They were laughing together. She opened it, inside was the inscription

   "Happy Birthday Molly! Hope you like it, John thought it was lame, but I thought it was thoughtful! :) Mary."  

Willow gazed in awe at the pictures, it was the part of her mother’s life before her, before Canada. There was a few people who reappeared often. The one called Mary, with short blonde hair who was often with someone called John, her husband who was short and also blonde. Her mother of course, she looked younger, happier.

   Then there was Sherlock. He was often with Molly, tall with curly black hair and multicolored eyes that looked so much like hers. Judging by the inscriptions, they were dating, and obviously loved each other. She arrived at a picture of him proposing and Willow realized something. The eyes, curly fair, it was obvious. She'd asked before who her father was. The reply she got was "that's not important right now, I've got you and that's all that matters" But now she knew. This was her father. Why had he left? Why wasn't he here? So many questions formed at the discovery. Was I ever going to meet him? 

And Willow crooked her head. So the answer to her question was up to her now. Go see him or not? Well, did she really have a choice? She walked up to him, trying to get past other adults rushing by. Finally she arrived before him. She stood before him and just stared. It took a while before he noticed. "Yes?" He asked. Willow stared at him carefully. 

"Are you my Daddy?"