(For the sake of this story, Sherlock Holmes is as old as the actor that plays him…Benedict Cumberbatch…34 J )
Rebecca walked through the streets of London in the pouring rain, she was tired, cold and extremely bored. Making her way slowly to one 221B baker street. She held a large suitcase in her left hand, a black coat over her shoulder's she stood outside the door to the small apartment and rang the doorbell.
John had noticed that Sherlock had been in a particularly bad mood that morning he had slumped himself down on the chair and was now constantly playing his violin at an uncomfortable pitch. When the doorbell had rung at 4O'clock that afternoon, Sherlock had merely sighed and stopped playing leaving John to go and open the door.
He glared in annoyance at his flatmate and descended the stairs before opening the door. Outside stood a small pretty woman about 18 he thought. She had long dark hair which hung in loose curls past her shoulders. She held on tightly to her coat and her suitcase. She smiled half heartedly at him.
"You must be John Watson…pleasure I'm sure." With that she let herself in and walked up the stairs dragging the suitcase along behind her. John stood slightly bewildered before closing the door and following the young woman up the stairs.
"I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?" He called up after her, reaching the living room where Sherlock still sat, the woman had disappeared most likely into the spare room to ditch her things. She re-emerged about ten seconds later. And smiled.
"Rebecca." She said briskly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Right…I take it you know Sherlock…" John said uncertain, Rebecca's face suddenly went rather cold.
"I know of him, yes. But I hardly know him." She said spitefully, John got the feeling she was directing that comment towards Sherlock rather than himself.
Sherlock scoffed and stood up from his chair, "Then why bother coming at all…because I hardly doubt that you'd like to get to know me." He said equally as spiteful.
"I told you, I had nowhere else to go. If I had do you honestly think I would be here with you!" John could see that Rebecca was getting more and more angry at Sherlock.
"You have friends back in Manchester I'm sure…you say you got chucked out of your flat…why not go and stay with a friend, or get a new flat. I'll tell you why, you weren't chucked out of your flat, you had to leave, hence the small amount of luggage you bought with you, probably had to pack in a hurry. You only called this morning, you said you were chucked out a week ago. So someone forced you to leave your flat. you don't feel safe in Manchester anymore so you want to move somewhere else, and who better to guard you than "Sherlock Holmes"." He finished. Rebecca stood defiantly unaffected by Sherlock's rant.
"Then why…did you let me stay with you?" She whispered back to him hatefully.
"We needed help on paying the rent." Sherlock finished and sat back down on his chair his stony expression telling both Rebecca and John that the conversation was over. Rebecca turned on her heal and walked into her new room slamming the door. John stood still for a couple of seconds.
"What was that?" He asked. Sherlock ignored him.
"Sherlock."
"Sherlock!" Sherlock turned his head to face John a bored expression on his face.
"That was Rebecca Holmes, my daughter."
