Chapter one

Skylar was stood in the centre of her bedroom, one leg bent slightly with her hands rested on her hips. Her mass of black curls were tumbling dramatically down her back, the front portion pulled back neatly to avoid falling over her face. She was dressed in a white crop top that stopped at her ribs, the black of her bra visible beneath where it clung to her small chest with straight leg dungarees concealing the pale skin of her stomach. The bottom of the light denim dungarees were rolled up just above her ankle. Aquamarine eyes scanned the room with intensity, the blue of her eyes were clouded slightly with green irises closer to the small black pupils.

"Perfect" she practically purred. The word slipping from her naturally rose pink lips, a thin layer of balm was spread across the surface of her lips keeping them from becoming chapped. She was pale, coloured alabaster like her father's, she looked more like Sherlock than she would have liked. Her eyes, hair and skin were all his, as was her slim form and the way her bones protruded slightly at her hips and cheeks.

The room was finally perfect. The walls were all different; the main wall above her bed was decorated with a dark purple wallpaper with a fancy baroque pattern in a slightly lighter shade of metallic purple. The wall directly opposite the door was a dark grey colour with a white skull spray painted between the two large windows. The wall opposite to the bed was decorated with a white and grey forest pattern paper and the wall next to that with the door was painted in galaxy print, the dark background coloured with purple and blue 'galaxies'. Little white splodges were painted as stars in single and cluster form. Over the galaxy painting was the London skyline, tall building's painted in a dark grey and the most recognisable features in a black silhouette (the London eye, London bridge big Ben, the gherkin and house of commons). The Thames had been forged out of a newspaper wallpaper and painted over with a few red water lilies and the quote 'There's nowhere like London. Nothing at all, anywhere' painted in a red scripture through the Thames.

Sherlock had given her free reign of the room, urging her to utilise her artistic talents because this would be a permanent home for them unlike the last few places. A new black wood Victorian style double bed was set up against the wall to the left of the door, against the purple wallpaper. A black desk was placed beneath the skull painting, between the windows with her work set up already on it. A black Victorian style wardrobe and large chest of drawers were against the forest wallpaper on the right side of the room with a large black framed mirror between them. A set of fairy lights were hanging on the mirror and atop of the chest of drawer were various cosmetic items. On the back of the door were some hangers with a coat, scarfs and hats on. All together the room was individual, completely to her taste. Even the purple bed set was perfect, sheets, duvet and a throw over the top with four pillows and decorative pillows as well.

"Skylar" Miss Hudson called from downstairs, judging from the volume she was in the longue calling down. The sound barely made it to the top floor of the house. Skylar let out a content sigh before opening the door into the hallway.

Miss Hudson was like her grandmother, she was kind and understanding. She would always bring up food and drink but insist that she was not their housekeeper, and they had only been there for two days. Of course they had known her before; her dad had ensured Miss Hudson's husbands execution. There had been passing visits so they knew each other but it would be like being smothered by a large caring blanket. Skylar trotted downstairs, her black manicured hands resting on the banister as she went down two flights of stairs. Miss Hudson was stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs with her hand on the banister, a smile wide on her face.

"Have you finished unpacking all your stuff?" the older lady asked as Skylar jumped the last two stairs to stand beside her.

"Yep" she responded, popping the 'p' louder than necessary. "Thanks for letting me paint the room, it feels a lot more homey now."

Miss Hudson smiled at her. "It's my pleasure dear, your father's home and he brought a friend."

Skylar gave a small nod and turned to the closed door of the longue. She pushed it open and stepped into the Sherlock cluttered room. That was a whole new level of necessary clutter which she was used to by now. The curly haired consulting detective was stood next to his desk, scarf and coat both abandoned inside the house. His pristine black suit and a light grey shirt covering his pale skin. He smiled at first glance of his daughter, scanning over her clothes with a less than impressed look gleaming in his eyes. His eyes then glanced towards the red patterned armchair; she followed his gaze to a blonde haired man.

He was sat with his back straight and arms on the chair arms. A cane was rested against the chair and he was looking up at her with blue eyes, a curious expression. So he knew about her, so not surprised, curious, probably wants to know more about her if he was going to move in.

"John Watson" her dad introduced in his silky baritone. Her eyes remained on the ex-army doctor as her father spoke to her. "This is my daughter, Skylar Holmes. Skylar this is John Watson."

"You're here about the spare room" she announced, turning her head to the side slightly.

"Sherlock told you?" he guessed, the rising inflection telling her that he was asking a question of some sort.

"Not a word" Skylar responded, a small grin forming. "Haven't spoken to him since this morning, been too busy decorating and unpacking for pointless conversation. He's never mentioned you before so you're a new acquaintance, an army pension is hardly enough to afford a flat of your own, so flat share, we have a spare room. It's hardly a difficult leap."

John spent a moment looking between father and daughter with small uncertainty. Miss Hudson took this moment to walk in with a smile. "Well, what do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms."

Skylar didn't bother to hide her amusement at the older lady's comment, laughing wildly as she sat herself down on the sofa. She swung her legs round to the vacant part of the sofa so she was lent against the arm, facing Sherlock and able to see John still. John looked at Sherlock seeking some help but the curly haired detective was looking at something on his desk, completely oblivious to Miss Hudson's insinuation.

"Of course we'll be needing two bedrooms." He managed.

Skylar was still giggling to herself as she responded. Miss Hudson shot her a look that said 'be nice dear' but was faintly amused as she responded. "Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts around here" she continued in a whisper "Mrs Turner next door's got married ones."

This did nothing to end the curly haired girl's laughter. It set her off more than before. Sherlock frowned at his daughter before moving to his armchair, it was a metal framed chair with black leather cushions. He plumped up the cushion before sitting down gracefully, one leg crossed over the other. "Ignore her" he told John sternly.

Skylar gave him the finger as he giggling died down. John glanced at the teenager for a moment before looking back to Sherlock; it was uncanny how similar they looked. Of course he knew that children looked like their parents but Skylar was a younger female version of the consulting detective. "I found your website, the science of deduction"

Sherlock smiled proudly. "What did you think?" he asked. Seeing the unimpressed look on John's face his smile fell into a confused frown.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and a pilot by his left thumb" he quoted.

Sherlock spoke up. "Yes, and I can read your military career in your face and leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone."

"How?"

Sherlock smirked as he steepled his hands under his nose so that they were covering his mouth. He glanced at his now placid daughter, winking at her. Skylar smirked and bit down on her bottom lip, pulling it with her teeth. She liked the way 'normal' people were so clueless especially when it came to people with higher intellects.

"Anyway" Skylar spoke into the silence as Miss Hudson bustled around the kitchen in an attempt to clean up after Sherlock. In one swift movement she pushed herself round and onto her feet, gracefully like a cat, her dad had always compared her to a cat because she was agile and light on her feet. "I have things" she wavered in the air "to do, I'll leave you to…bond." She decided with a smirk.

Sherlock didn't respond to this, he hardly ever did. John gave a small nod in understanding as she moved towards the door. Skylar paused before leaving "Your room is on the second floor Doctor Watson, the floor above this, mine is the floor above that, I hope everything is to your liking."

And with that the curly haired girl ducked out the room and made her way upstairs, taking two stairs at a time.