Ever After
Chapter 1
Meredith had a friend.
Her Mummy told her he was an imaginary friend.
Meredith didn't think so.
He was much too real, and alive, and peculiar to be anything her imagination could have dreamt up.
She first saw him the day after her daddy disappeared. She'd been very upset, and wondered where he could have gone, but Mummy had actually seemed relieved, and had held Meredith close that morning before she went to school. She wouldn't say why Daddy was gone, just that he was going to be gone for a quite a while, but Meredith was a big girl and she would be okay, right? Meredith wasn't so sure she'd be okay without her daddy, but Mummy had looked so desperate for Meredith to say yes that she hadn't been able to do anything but nod.
She went to school, and when she came out to get on the bus, there he was.
Watching her.
He was tall and handsome and black-haired, like the pictures of the fairy tale princes in Meredith's books at home. Except somehow he was even better, not paint and ink on paper, but wholly real and right in front her, with proud cheekbones and vivid blue eyes that seemed to look right through her and know all of her secrets at once. But she didn't mind, because he was a prince, and they were supposed to know everything. He was leaning against one of the squat brick walls that surrounded the school's flower gardens, wearing a long dark coat and a soft blue scarf, both of which fluttered slightly in the wind.
He said her name.
"Meredith Jones."
She stopped on her way to the bus. Walked over to him, and gazed the long way upwards into his face. He really was tall - just as a prince should be.
"That's me," she said breathlessly, amazed that he was talking to her. He seemed to be ignoring all of the other children scurrying to get out of school and on the way back home. "Who... What's your name?"
His lips curved in an odd smile, knowing and inquisitive at the same time, and more dangerous than friendly. But she wasn't scared. He was a prince. And there were lots of other people around, anyway.
"Sherlock," he answered her, and after looking at her for a long moment, crouched down to be at her level.
"Hello, Sherlock," she said politely. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flicking quickly over her and seeming to pick her apart. Just when she was starting to feel the tiniest bit unsettled, he finally said,
"Your father vanished yesterday."
She was surprised. He wasn't really meant to know everything. So she was surprised that he knew, of all things, about her Daddy.
"How did you know that?" she asked.
"I was told."
That wasn't much of an answer. She humphed in exasperation.
"By who?"
"Whom," he corrected her, looking slightly annoyed for the first time. "By whom, honestly, they do teach you English here?"
"I'm only in primary school," she said defensively, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Who told you?"
"A... friend of mine," he said hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure whether the person who told him should be classified as a friend or not. "Someone I work with. I'm looking for your father." Meredith's heart lit up with joy.
"Really? Are you going to bring him back?" she asked excitedly. He gave her another hard stare and frowned slightly.
"Perhaps," he said carefully, and Meredith wasn't at all sure he sounded optimistic. Her joy crumbled a little, but she tried to stay hopeful. Surely if anyone could find her daddy, it would be this man, with his fairy tale looks and his knowing eyes.
"Please try," she begged. He kept frowning, and didn't answer her request. Instead his eyes sharpened on her, and he said,
"When did you last see your father?"
She shrugged.
"The other night. At bedtime."
"And what did he do?"
"He read me a bedtime story and tucked me in," she said curiously, not understanding what that had to do with anything. Daddy had gone away in the night, and she hadn't seen anything important. Sherlock's frown deepened as he seemed to realise this.
"What about before bed?" he asked. "Did you notice anything unusual?"
"No, he - " Meredith broke off at the sound of engines starting. She looked up. Her schoolmates had all but disappeared into the buses, leaving only a few stragglers hurrying out the front door to board before they drove off. "I... The buses are going to leave," she said nervously. She didn't want to miss hers - then how would she get home? He looked annoyed again, but stood up, and Meredith gazed in awe once more at his height.
"So they are," he said in clipped tones, looking at the buses as if they'd personally offended him. He glanced back down at her. "Well, you'd better be off, then," he said. "I'll talk to you later."
Meredith's smile lit up her face.
"Really?" she asked happily. He raised an eyebrow, not seeming to understand why she would be so interested in seeing him again.
"Yes, really," he said drily. "Until then, try to remember anything useful about your father before he left."
"O... Okay," she stammered. She looked at him for just a moment longer, wanting to remember his image, and then turned around and skipped hurriedly off for the bus. Behind her she heard him mutter,
"The security at this school is deplorable."
She wasn't sure what that meant.
ooo00ooo
"Anything yet, Sherlock?"
"A couple of leads. I'd like to interview the daughter - I imagine she knows a number of things that could be useful."
A shake of the head.
"No sorry, she's off limits."
"Off limits? Why?"
"Her mother doesn't want her involved in any of this. In fact, as far as the kid knows, her father's just an ordinary bloke who left home last night. She doesn't know why."
"Hm, yes, I suppose her mother didn't see fit to explain matters."
"The kid's only six, Sherlock, you can hardly blame her."
"So what? So the girl assumes her father left because he didn't like his family instead? People. They're always trying to spare each other's feelings, but it usually just makes things worse in the end."
"Look, it doesn't matter. The kid's under eighteen, her mum's in charge. And she doesn't want us questioning her daughter. Why so hung up on the kid, anyway? You didn't even want to talk to Mrs. Jones yourself."
"Mrs. Jones doesn't know anything more than what she explained to you in her interview - I could tell that by just watching the video. Jones probably wasn't as careful to hide things from his daughter as he was from his wife - people often underestimate how perceptive children can be. The girl could have heard or seen something important."
"Yeah, okay, maybe. I'll ask again, but I doubt she's gonna give us access."
"Fine. See you tomorrow."
A whirl of coat toward the door.
"Hang on, I thought you said you had leads."
"And I'll tell you about them when I've followed them up."
"Sherlock - "
"Text me if anything new comes in. Afternoon!"
A door slam.
A sigh.
"Ah, dammit."
So, I totally started writing this before I knew anything about Reichenbach and the fairy tale connection. I'm not sure if that makes me clever or scary.
This story takes place over a number of weeks, so I'm going to try to post the chapters more or less in line with when they occur compatible to the timeline of our current reality. Since the next chapter actually takes place on the same day as this one, it will probably be posted over the next couple of days. Chapters that occur weeks apart, however, will be posted weeks apart. Most of this story is already written, and the timeframe should hopefully facilitate its finish by the appropriate time. Chapters will also get longer, though their lengths are somewhat varying.
I hope this will be entertaining.