Story-wide disclaimer: Don't own, never have, never will. This is purely a work of fiction.
The Holmes family is by no means normal, Asher least of all. But if her uncle is in love with this army doctor, by god, she'll see them married yet. If only Mycroft would stop getting in the way. And then, of course, there's the problem of Sebastian Moran, lurking in the shadows...
This is, I warn all of you, much more depressing than the summary would let on. And yes, yes, I know there's an OC, she was originally just a plot device used to bring about Johnlock, but she quickly took on a life of her own. She is what she is, not a Mary-Sue or a self-insert or whatever else, she's just Asher. Read on and you'll see.
Dead Air
1.
The gravestone is simple, simpler than she would have thought. Just a plain black stone with the words 'Sherlock Holmes' on the front.
"You'd think he could have spent a bit more effort making sure his grave was as pompous as his face." she mutters, crossing a pair of thin arms over an equally thin chest and grinning to herself. Her mobile buzzes from her pocket, and she fetches it and flips it open.
"I heard you were dead." she says, supremely uninterested, "So I came back to say goodbye. How is the afterlife treating you?"
Something that may have been a chuckle echoes down the line.
"And I hear that you have been, 'kicked out' as you would put it, from yet another university." a deep, cultured voice returns, matter of fact.
"That was a year ago- practically ancient history. And really, I'm glad of it uncle. The people were very dull, most of them, anyways, and they had an abundance of... rules." Asher shudders.
"Did you hack into the Deacon's computer files again, or simply blow something up?" the deep voice queries.
"Blew something up. An entire dorm wing, to be exact."
Silence from the other end.
"Oh, no one was in the building, don't be stupid."
There is an amused grunt from her relative.
"And don't pretend you're upset with me. Secretly you're thrilled I take after you and not that arse, Mycroft."
A sigh.
"Well at least we both have the same opinion of your uncle." he says, faintly amused. "Listen, Asher, there is something I need you to do for me. The reason I asked you here, in fact." The smile slides off her face, leaving a blank expression.
"What is it?"
"Go to the flat. There's a man there, a John Watson. You won't have met him, but he's a… friend, of sorts. Tell him you're my niece, ask him if you can stay."
"Will he let me?"
"Oh, yes. There isn't a kinder man on earth."
Asher is quiet for a moment. The sun beats down on her back and warms it despite the chill air, glinting off the polished black stone in front of her.
"You love him." She says simply.
"Look after him, Asher." The other voice replies, pointedly ignoring her statement. "Keep him from doing anything he'll regret."
Asher tilts her dark head, even though her uncle can't see it.
"He must be very special."
"He's quite ordinary, I assure you." The words are dismissive, but there is an undercurrent of something powerful beneath them that Asher picks up on instantly.
"I'll do what I can. Stay in touch, Sherly. Ta, then."
She hangs up the phone. John Watson. She ponders the name as she gets to her feet, then she turns and leaves the graveyard behind.
And so it begins...