Ok so I don't own anything relating to the Sherlock or Sherlock Holmes, they belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Mr Moffat.

Prologue

It had been a long 7 and a half hour flight from New York to London, Victoria was exhausted, her clothes crumpled and her jeans stained with Dr. Pepper. Her curly black hair was coming out of her ponytail, but she couldn't be bothered to fix her fluffy, rakish, mess of curls. She made her way out to the street and hired a cab to drive her to 221B Baker Street.

She took out her powder out of her bag and began applying it over her few spots on her nose and forehead. Being a teenager was not always fabulous but this was one time she wanted to look perfect. She remembered her mother's saying "There, there, darling just put your lipstick on and everything will be fine" whenever she was troubled with something. She brought out a tube of Barely There Pink applied it. She sighed at her reflection and said "Okay mom, you'd better be right" before snapping her compact shut.

She chewed her lip as she gazed out the window. What would her father be like? Would he even know her? Only one way to know, knock on the door and go inside. She paid the cabbie and stood outside the door. The door knocker was askew to the left. She lifted it and gave three knocks.

Nearly a minute or two later an older woman opened the door. "Um, Hello I'm looking for Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" Victoria asked. "Of course dear, come inside. Sherlock and John are out but they should be back in a few tics if you want to wait. I'll get you a nice cuppa tea while you wait dear." She said showing Victoria to the kitchen of the small apartment.

Victoria took a seat on the couch, just under the smiley face with bullet holes in it. She heard the door slam and the voices of two men arguing as they walked up the stairs. "Sherlock Holmes! You cannot go around insulting people like that, especially not a client as important as that one! You need the money! You can't keep getting arrested Sherlock!" John Watson yelled at Sherlock, trying to get some sense into his friend's head "I do not need the money nor association with her." Sherlock calmly said to his friend. John sighed, "Sherlock I swear, if you're bored with taking cases then find something better to do with your time than causing problems for Scotland Yard, otherwise they won't call you when interesting cases do come in." John said, sounding exasperated at the high jinks of his friend. Both men made their way into the room, both ignoring the teenager sitting on the couch. Victoria cleared her throat and both men turned to her. She sipped her tea. "What if Sherlock tried his hand at playing a different instrument, such as the viola? Seeing as how they're similar instruments it wouldn't be so difficult. Oh don't mind me gentlemen, go on with your argument, please." She said simply, crossing her left leg over her right and setting her teacup on her knee.

"Who… how in heaven's name did you get in?" John asked, puzzled.

"Oh, um… Mrs. Husdon let me in. I needed to see Mister Sherlock Holmes about something. Something…. Personal.." She said chewing her lower lip afterwards.

Sherlock took a good look at the girl, and he instantly began looking over her and categorizing her. Her curly black slightly staticky hair stuffed into a scrunchie and slender disposition covered with jeans stained with Doctor Pepper and her cornflower blue shirt which matched her beautiful eyes, the spots on her forehead and nose, hurriedly covered over with powder and a smear of Barely There Pink lipstick. "She came here from the United States, New York City I would guess, she's trying to impress me and take away from the fact that she looks like she's been on a seven and a half hour trip. If it's so important to you, then why in God's name did you choose that lipstick color?"

"Well hey, at least I'm here Sherlock Holmes and we both know you're not curious about my lipstick shade in the very least." Victoria said, setting her tea on the table in front of the couch and standing up, to her full 5'8" height. "You're curious about why I came all the way from New York and how in God's name I know you play the violin." Victoria said her blue eyes shining with a little bit of self-righteous indignation at her brilliant deductions.

Sherlock stammered, no one, not even his best friend and roommate had ever been able to keep him on his toes or even render him speechless. "Tell me Miss…."

"Victoria. I can see the mark under you chin, near your jugular vein, it's pretty clear that it's not a hickey, therefore it must be a violinist's mark from holding the violin under your chin."

"How.." Doctor Watson asked.

"I'm a teenager I can tell the difference between hickeys and I was involved in Orchestra at my last school and I used to date a violinist… Simple really… Doctor Watson, do keep up." Victoria said

taking her tea and sipping it casually.

Doctor Watson and Sherlock were standing with their mouths agape, and Mrs. Hudson stood proudly in the kitchen, someone had finally put the great detective in his place.

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Lots of thanks to TheThiaforce for helping me write this today