There was something uncanny about the girl that stood a few metres in front of him, that much was clear. The way she held herself was peculiar for the her age, it was as if she was independent from anyone, lone in this world. Her attire consisted of a simple black dress with a similar black ribbon with a bow tied around her waist; Hamish guessed that she couldn't have been more than a few years younger that him and he had turned eight a few months ago. They stood on a rocky outcrop facing the ocean, the brisk sea wind ruffling his light brown curls and making him shiver a little. Hamish drew his Belstaff Milford more tightly around himself and smiled at the memory of how he had come by the coat, remembering how Sherlock had point blank insisted that they stopped at a particular shop on the high street and the realisation that dawned on John's face as he recognised the brand. A dark figure was coming closer, accompanying the girl, and he appeared to have invested in a good brand of clothing too. Hamish murmured under his breath, "Westwood."

"Sherlock," the corners of the man's mouth lifted, flashing a set of pearly white teeth, "Oh won't this be fun, have you brought someone to see me?"

"Moriarty," Sherlock nodded in way of acknowledgment, his steely gaze never leaving the man's face. Hamish remembered John tightening his grip on him and Sherlock moving in front, putting himself between Hamish and the man he called Moriarty. However, his eyes softened as his gaze travelled to the girl. Moriarty followed his line of sight and smiled, "Let me introduce Melissa, say hello," he prompted and the girl waved as if the gesture was unfamiliar to her.

"Hello," she began in a tone of voice that sounded like it had been rehearsed, "My name is Melissa Jaime Moriarty."

"And I'm Hamish Watson-Holmes!" Hamish piped up, delighted at the opportunity for introductions but he faltered as Sherlock shot him a warning gaze. Moriarty, however, only smiled wider, "Oh my, so we have a Holmes child here. Yes, I can see the resemblance," he brought his level down to Hamish, "He has your eyes, Sherlock." Hamish could see the resemblance between Melissa and Moriarty too, there was something sombre in both their expressions when they were not adopting falsely normal ones.

"Should we let the children play?" Moriarty put forward in a deliriously cheerful tone of voice and Sherlock tensed, hesitant as to how he should answer. John hugged Hamish tighter to him and whispered, "Do you want to, Hamish? You can say no." Hamish shook his head, meeting his dad's gaze. He was quite familiar with disobeying John, as what Sherlock suggested usually sounded more fun but this time he was curious, and it was with his father's same curiosity that Hamish replied simply with, "I want to meet Melissa."

John nodded and allowed Hamish to cross the distance between them and the two standing at the opposite side of the outcrop.

"Hello," Hamish greeted, "My parents say that you're going to be living with us now."