The Winter Willow

by TardisChic

Sherlock is about to get the surprise of his life when a woman (most importantly, John's OTHER sister), comes back to his flat on New Year's Eve to give birth to his daughter, but then disappears, leaving his daughter on the door step for him to take care of, and when she comes back, the unthinkable happens. Family/Romance - only at the end. Rated M for labor and some swear words

1. New Year's Eve, a bar, and a Memory

Note: This is a story that someone wrote for me, so I do have permission to post this here. Besides, I do "own" the idea of the story. :) So, now I present to you: The Winter Willow by my good friend TC.

I also donot own Sherlock in anyway shape or form. All I own is the characters Faith Watson and her baby. :)

The Winter Willow

The night was cold and yet so full of warmth at the same time. It was New Year's Eve in England and London was practically bursting with people waiting for the fireworks at the stroke of midnight. Big Ben would explode with color and everyone would cheer and embrace their "special someone", everyone except for Faith. She was currently hanging out at her favorite pub with a couple girlfriends who she knew would be getting lucky later in the night. She, on the other hand, was being responsible sitting and sipping at her lemonade considering the almost-ready baby in her belly. And she had one person to thank for that baby.

Sherlock Holmes.

It had happened right in that bar 9 months ago. He had just finished a rather challenging case, so he told her, and was weirdly chipper about it. Her brother and Sherlock's friend, John Watson, had explained to her what he could of Sherlock's fondness for crime and puzzles, and it was rather… odd. But he was odd, and watching him explain and deduct incredible things in front of her while having this beautiful gleam in his ice-blue eyes, you could say, is where Faith first grew fond of him. Sherlock was in no way ordinary, not by a long shot. From his tall, lean figure to his raven-colored hair, as well as his high cheekbones and strangely-shaped lips, he was a sight to behold. His feline eyes and long face only added to its oddness.

Sherlock wasn't really Faith's type, but they both had too many drinks in them and the night was young. John had just left with a possible girlfriend and didn't necessarily realize he had left her alone with Sherlock, but that was A-OK by her. It gave them a chance to talk at least. And man, did he talk. Deducing everything he could around them at a million miles an hour while she could barely keep up. She didn't, and still didn't, quite understand how he could think like that with several glasses of wine in him. But she drew to him like a moth to a flame and, thinking back now sitting in that same pub, she couldn't exactly say she completely regretted what came after the wine and deductions. Although the thought of how John would react to this did cross her mind a few times.

Please review! :) Flames are welcome, to a certain degree. I think I can trust you to know when enough is enough. :)