It was a clear summer afternoon at Barafundle Bay, the Holmes family's favorite campground. They were a tight-knit little bunch, and they preferred being left to themselves when they go on vacation especially the Holmes children, 20-year-old Mycroft and 12-year-old William.

It was because the Holmes family liked their privacy and quiet very much that young William was very surprised to find a girl around the same age as him primly sitting his favorite rock; the one overlooking the water. She was obviously very sad, judging by the frown on her face, and the state of her feet, easily visible even in the moonlight. She'd run barefoot from her family's campsite. She was certainly not a local as the pink jumper and pants she was wearing only started to be sold in Debenham's Oxford Street two days ago and would not be available in other branches for at least another week. The pair of trainers behind her were also new. He continued looking up at her from where he stood on the fine volcanic sand of the beach, discerning her.

"It's very rude to stare at people if you don't plan on talking to them, you know," the little girl said.

William felt his cheeks grow warm. "I apologise. I was just thinking about how nice it'd have been if I'd been allowed to bring my dog. That and it's just that I never expected to find someone, let alone a little girl, here." Sorry, Redbeard, he thought.

The girl turned intelligent brown eyes at him. "I'm not a little girl. I'm small for my age, that's all. I'm 11 years old. I'll be a woman soon. Then I won't pay the least bit of attention to boys like you," she countered.

William snorted. "Please. My big brother is a very good-looking guy. Everyone in his year wants to go out with him. Girls AND boys. When I grow up, I'll look at least as good-looking as him, then I wouldn't bother with you,"

The girl's eyes narrowed, and her lips turned up in teasing smile. "You say that, but you're still here,"

William's cheeks warmed again. "Well, it's not my fault you're sitting on my rock!"

The girl's mouth opened and her face took on an incredulous expression. "YOUR rock? How is this your rock?"

Now it was William's turn to look smug. "Well if you would stand up, you would see it carved there. Go on," he urged.

The girl pouted but did as he asked. She read the name and gave him a smile, probably the prettiest smile he'd ever seen, well, almost as pretty as Mummy's. Nobody was prettier than Mummy. Dad certainly always said so. This girl though… William considered her chocolate brown hair, almost black now in the dark of night, her smooth porcelain skin glowing in the moonlight, her petal-pink lips that looked so soft and sweet…

"Sherlock?" The girl said. "This can't be your name! It's silly!"

… And just like that blooming young love soured into childish contempt. "My middle name is not silly!"

"Is too,"

"It's not!"

"Yes, it is. Sorry." The girl's arms were crossed over her chest now, her toes tracing the big letters of William's middle name that'd been carved into the rock.

"Well, let's hear yours, then! What's your name?" William challenged.

The girl squared her shoulders and looked down her nose at him. "My name is Molly. Molly Hooper,"

William's Cupid's bow lips tightened. He tried, oh he tried very hard to keep his giggles in, but soon he was doubled over in laughter.

"WHAT?!"

At that point, William was already clutching his stomach and slapping the side of his thigh, his laughter reverberating into the wide nothingness surrounding the beach.

"…"

After a minute or two, when William had calmed down, he saw that Molly was laughing too. She has such a beautiful smile, he thought as he climbed up the rock to join her. He saw her smile at him as she scooched over to give him space to sit down so he held out his hand for her to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Molly Hooper. My name is William Holmes."