Sophia Holmes and the Final Problem (Sherlock's daughter fanfic) *Completed*

Chapter One

"John?" dad says, answering his phone with a frown. John rarely rings - he knows how much we dislike answering the phone. "Is everything alright? Is it Rosie?"

I quickly tap into the line and listen to John's reply on my phone. "No-no-no, it's not her. Oh God - she knows about her. She knows about Rosie."

Dad sends me a concerned look. "Who knows about Rosie, John?"

"Your sister. Your bloody sister."

"My what?" Dad's voice is hollow, but John continues.

"She shot me. She had one of those guns Sophie has - a night-night gun? She shot me with a tranquiliser and disappeared. I lost her. She could be going after Rosie."

I drop out the call as I go over to the safe and grab our guns before throwing dad his coat. She has access to S.H.I.E.L.D technology. That can't be good.

"Alright. Try and calm down," dad says, softly. "We'll head over there now and check things out. Join us there." Dad ends the call and glances over to me as he puts on his coat. "What the hell was that about?"

I look back at him. "I'll tell you in the cab. We need to get moving."

***

"I asked you once whether you had a sister - d'you remember?" I ask him after I've finished explaining what Mycroft let slip to me and John. "It was the time I found out I had living grandparents, I think."

"I ... I don't remember her," dad says, his voice low and shaking. "How can I not remember having a sister?"

"You honestly don't remember her?" I ask, frowning.

"Cross my heart."

"She wasn't even mentioned at Christmas," I say, thoughtfully. "Grandma and grandpa couldn't have forgotten her as well, could they? Why is it only Mycroft that knows anything about her?"

"I doubt it's possible to forget having a child," dad replies, "so she must have done something exceptionally terrible for mother and father to never mention her."

I peer out the window as the taxi pulls into John's road. "It doesn't look like he's back yet. Stop here please!"

Barely before the taxi has time to stop, I've lept out the cab and we're racing towards John's house. Dad goes first and bursts through the unlocked front door, but suddenly comes to an abrupt stop, causing me to crash into him from behind.

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock," Molly cries, lowering the knife in her hand and trying to comfort a crying Rosie. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What's she done to her?" John yells coming in behind us, his face white. He rips Rosie away from Molly's stunned grip and doesn't calm down until he's content she's unharmed.

"You three better explain to me what's happening right now," Molly says, her voice shaking.