[Running on the basis that Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler did eventually sleep together.]
Sherlock Holmes' doorbell rings one night and his visitor is a young girl with startlingly familiar features. Amy has lived with her Mother- Irene Adler, aka- the Woman, for 10 years of her life.
And now it's Sherlock's turn.
This story will likely be the advertures of Amy as she tries to fit in with her father's crazy lifestyle. Sherlock is tested as he instinctively tries to keep his young daughter safe, but little does he know that her mother has prepared her more than adequately for the dangers that he and John face. A mix of two dangerously clever characters Amy is already a force to be reckoned with.
John Watson opened the door, pulling his robe tight, cup of tea in hand. It was not often that visitors called at such an hour. Even Mrs Hudson had retired to bed and John was on his way. When the door swung open even John had to admit; of all the crazy scenarios he had conjured in his mind this had not been one of them. A young girl, no more than ten, stood on the doorstep in a yellow sundress and an oversized tweed coat.
"Is Sherlock here?" She said in a voice that, whilst youthful, high and airy, sounded far too old for the person from which it sprang.
John stared for a moment longer, unsure of what to make of the child. She had long wavy red hair and very strong, defined features. Her nose was pointed at the very tip and ever-so-slightly upturned. This gave her a somewhat misanthropic look that was reflected by her nonchalant stance. Her grey-blue eyes were calculating and quick as they darted over Watson's features.
"Yeah sure, I'll just get him… Sherlock?"
Unlike John, Sherlock was still dressed in his day's clothes when he came to the door, yet he received the same cynical once over that John had. Sherlock stared at the girl, unsure of what to make of her and their observant expressions were strangely matched.
John looked between the two in exasperation, but Sherlock was already beginning to pale as his mind collected data from the child's appearance.
"You're Sherlock Holmes?" The girl said- it was unclear if it was a question or not.
"I am" Came Sherlock's guarded reply. It was at that exact moment that the phone in Sherlock's pocket emitted an obscene sound that hadn't been heard at 221B Baker Street in some years.
John shifted uncomfortably as the child stared, not necessarily shocked, but definitely curious. Sherlock's complexion had turned a peculiar grey colour now as he fumbled in his pocket for the device.
"A moment?" Sherlock said with a gulp. No sooner had Sherlock read the message than he looked up sharply at the girl, eyes wide with disbelief. He took a step backward into the hall and the girl took this as her invitation, stepping in out of the brisk night air. She stopped in the entry way.
"You'd better be as good as the stories." She said curtly as Sherlock simply stared at her. All the colour gone from his face now and he seemed to shrink away from her toward the wall as she passed.
Sherlock shoved the phone in John's hand before following the small girl into the kitchen.
John looked down and read the message from Irene Adler.
I've had her for the first 10 years, you take her till she's ready to leave the nest.
Happy Birthday Sherlock.