Hmm. So, I'd love your feedback on this new direction. Too cheesy? Let me know! BTW, if things are too cheesy, let me know! I love to be dramatic, but can sometimes go a little overboard. Just leave me a review, and I will work on making it better. :)

Thanks

-Anna

Chapter 12

Sherlock sat in his old chair, reading the newspaper, as John bustled around, preparing for something. Things had gotten better at Bakerstreet since John and Miriam's little stroll. Sherlock was actually getting sleep, not being woken up every hour by loud music. Miriam had begun to speak, though most of it was towards John. The little that was spoken to Sherlock was only a sarcastic remark, tempting his anger.

"Ready?" John asked, smoothing his hair in the mirror.

"For what?" Sherlock asked in his usual condescending tone.

"You've forgotten?" John asked, turning to face him, an exasperated look spread across his face. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. "It's parent-teacher conference at Miri's high school" John checked his watch "We have to be there in an hour.

"We? What do mean 'We'? I'm not going"

"Oh yes you are!" John demanded. "This is a PARENT-teacher conference and may I remind you that no matter how you two fight it, you ARE her parent!"

"I'm not going!"

Miriam stood outside homeroom, checking her phone every so often. He should be here by now. She watched as classmates dragged their parents from room, showing off their projects and introducing them to their teachers. She always hated these events. It made her realize how different her life was, and now, even more so. As she thought, she heard a loud clammer come from down the hall. Turning to look, she gasped. Her father strolled down the hall, annoyed, while Sherlock trailed after him looking equally upset. Miriam could hardly speak as her dad approached her. "Sorry I'm late hun...we had a little...issue to sort out." Miri was speechless as she looked from her father to Sherlock.

"What are you doing here?!" Miriam demanded at Sherlock. He turned to John.

"See! I told you. It simply would have been better if I had stayed home!" John looked around, noticing a few of the parents had begun to look curiously at them.

"Both of you will just have to put up with being in the same room together for one night...One night!" John hissed, trying to lower his voice "Now, we are going to go into that classroom and Sherlock, you are going to have to behave like a gentleman. No deducing, no snarky comments just be...normal!" John turned to Miriam "And you are going to ignore him, and anything he might say!" Sherlock looked at John, clearly offended. John spoke again "Be the nice child I know you to be!" Miriam rolled her eyes, and led them into her homeroom. After introducing them to her teacher, Miriam left so that they could discuss...her.

"Please" The teacher, said "Take a seat." John sat down, but Sherlock continued to stand. He was looking around the room, clearly studying everything. Realizing both John and the teacher were staring at him, he sat down.

"Well," Mrs. Hatfields began "What can I say about Miriam? She's a very smart, independent young lady." John smiled, and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"But?" Sherlock asked. He paused, waiting for someone to understand his point. Rolling his eyes, he continued. "Your tone indicates you have something else to tell us. Something that is not good news, as you are nervously drumming your fingers. Furthermore, you would not have sent Miriam away if you only had positive things to tell us." Mrs. Hatfields looked a bit confused and uncomfortable at Sherlock's accusation.

"Well, yes, I suppose that you're right. While Miriam is a very nice girl, it's not all positive. Lately she has been a bit more quiet than usual, and while that's not something that is bad, it worries me because she also seems sadder." Mrs. Hatfields pursed her lips and continued. "What worries me the most is her complete change of character. She is usually a bit rude, and tries to run the class, but lately none of that has been happening."

"Isn't that good? She's finally learning to be tolerable." Sherlock stated annoyed

"Well, normally, but such a drastic change worries me."

"Well," stated John vaguely. "She has been going through some things at home lately…" John didn't want to go into the details. Sherlock continued to stare ahead, arms crossed, occasionally scoffing or muttering under his breath. Miriam's teacher glanced back and forth between them.

"Well, I wanted to encourage you to take her to a counselor," She said awkwardly, still trying to sound professional. "I really think that it could help her. I know a few that cou-" Sherlock cut her off.

"She is not going to a counselor. There is nothing wrong with her."

"Of course not! I-I'm just saying that she could benefit from talking to someone." Mrs. Hatfields said, flustered. "We don't wasn't this to turn into something severe."

"No," Sherlock replied stubbornly. John didn't understand Sherlock's strange reaction.

"Um, thank you," John said awkwardly. "We will look into it.

"No we won't," Sherlock muttered. John continued on like had hadn't heard him.

"Was there anything else?" John asked.

"Um, no… That's it…"

"Alright, well, thank you." John got up and pulled Sherlock with him. Leading them out of the room, they headed towards where Miriam had gone too. They walked in silence, not saying anything about the conference. Sherlock had a blank expression on his face, but John's was twisted in thought. He knew Miriam was upset, but did he really know how much? And why did Sherlock protest about counseling? He was acting almost-fatherly. Turning a corner, they spotted her. She was with a small group of girls, deep in discussion. To his knowledge, Miriam didn't have any good friends. John grew hopeful as he watched them talked. If she had a good friend, maybe then she would have someone to talk too. They wouldn't have to send her to a counselor, though he highly doubted they would anyways because of Sherlock's protests. As they got closer to them, Miriam broke off from the group and joined them.

"Miri, who are those girls? Your friends?" John asked, hopeful.

Miriam scoffed "Friends? Dad- I don't have friends...you know this." John rolled his eyes.

"A justified choice" Sherlock replied "Friends are useless. They backstab you or, people can use them to manipulate you" As he spoke, he glanced sideways at John, a smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you speak from experience!?" John teasingly shouted! Miriam smiled, while Sherlock chuckled.

"I backstabbed you?" John questioned, clearly amused at Sherlock's comment.

"In more ways than you know!" Sherlock wittingly replied. They all chuckled as they left the school building. Hailing a cab, they all climbed into the cab, Miriam sitting between them. As the laughter ceased, she spoke.

"So...What did have to say about me?" Miriam wasn't stupid. Of course she would have known something was wrong, but John didn't know how to tell her. He stared at Sherlock, hoping his frank nature would clear the matter up but Sherlock turned from him, staring out the window.

"Well...she said that you are a very bright young lady-"John began.

"But?" Miriam said, cutting him off just as Sherlock had done to the teacher.

"Jesus! Can anyone speak with you two around?" The cab grew silent at John's outburst. "Miriam, your teacher thinks you are depressed. She claims that you have been acting strangely, and she suggested that we seek counseling for you." Miriam's face became expressionless, and she stared at her hands. Sherlock spoke immediately.

"But, we will not be taking you to counseling! That is a completely absurd notion. You are a perfectly normal-"

"No." Miriam stated, looking up. She turned to John "Maybe counseling wouldn't be a bad idea...maybe I do need to talk to someone." John stared at her dumbfounded. He had expected her to shout words of protest, or ignore him for the rest of the evening...but not this! Sherlock shared the same reaction as John. Miriam looked nervously between them, waiting for one to respond. Finally John spoke.

"Alright…" John murmured "I'll call the school tomorrow, and see who they suggest."

The rest of the cab ride home was silent, and when they arrived at Bakerstreet, Miriam hopped out of the car and headed straight up to her room. John handed the cabbie a tip and then faced Sherlock. They both said nothing, and headed upstairs. John opened the cupboard to make tea, and Sherlock sat down on the couch, flipping on the telly. As John stirred the steaming cup, he noticed that Miriam had wandered downstairs. She walked over to where Sherlock was sitting and stood, staring at him. He ignored her for a while, but finally realizing she wasn't leaving looked up at her.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"Thanks." she muttered. He looked at her in confusion "Thanks for thinking that-I'm normal...For thinking that I don't need counseling." As she finished, she turned and left, leaving Sherlock confused. Had Miriam really just said something civil to him? The same blank expression remained on Sherlock's face as she trailed up the stairs. John stayed in the kitchen, watching their interaction. Even though he was happy that they weren't yelling at each other, he was-jealous. He upset that he hadn't been the one to stand up for her. He should have told her she was fine; even if he knew she wasn't. John never told her that he thought she should go, but he never insisted she didn't. He didn't react like Sherlock. Hiding his thoughts, he went over and sat next to Sherlock.

"Well….it seems you two are becoming friends."

Sherlock scoffed at the comment with a cheeky grin. "Not likely".

Chapter 13

Miriam lay, sprawled out on her bed, her feet facing the headboard and her head hanging off the end. She had just walked home from her first meeting with her therapist. It had gone well. Miriam had enjoyed having someone to talk too. Someone who wouldn't yell at her, no matter how mad she got at her dad and Sherlock. She could finally get all of her anger out. What didn't go well was trying to convince the therapist that Sherlock Holmes was her biological father-and that he was alive. She had forgotten that the public still did not know about his miraculous "resurrection". Miriam laughed as she remembered the therapist's worried expression. Her dad would definitely be getting a phone call from him this evening.

Miriam heard a door slam downstairs, and hoped it was her dad. Sherlock had some random errand to run, and John had a job interview, so Miriam had to walk to her appointment. She had hoped he would be home by the time she arrived so she could tell him all about it but, he was not. Hearing the sound of someone coming up the stairs, she grabbed her homework and acted like she was working hard on it. It was Sunday, and her dad would be pissed if he knew she still hadn't done it. In a minute or so, a fist rapt at the door.

"Come in!" She said, preparing for the briefing she would have to give her dad on the appointment. To her surprise, a tall detective poked his head in.

"Oh…Hi?" She said, curious to why he had come to see her. Normally, they would ignore each other. "I thought you were dad—well, I mean you are but-I mean my real dad" She slammed her hand against her head. "The man that raised me-that guy" Miri said, pointing to a picture of her and John on her mirror. Sherlock chuckled. He walked into her room and stood looking quite uncomfortable. "Miriam I'm not your father. Biologically yes, but I did not raise you, therefore I do not have that parental title." she rolled her eyes. "Do you have to be so technical about everything?" Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. Miriam stared at him for a while, waiting for him to speak "So….not to be rude but- what are you doing in my room?"

"Ah yes…" Sherlock paused "How was the..erm..appointment?" Miriam gave him an odd look. Why did he care?

"Um..it was fine. But, I did have a rather difficult time trying to convince the therapist that you are alive. You know, no one really knows that you're back right? Uncle Lestrade...Dad mentioned something about you having a brother...no one."

"Yes, I suppose you're right...Lestrade should know."

"What about your brother?"

"Mycroft? He already knows...I wouldn't give him the joy of thinking that I was dead.

"I'm sensing that you two have wonderful relationship." Miriam sarcastically remarked. "When will I get to meet him?"

"Why would you want to do a thing like that?"

Miriam laughed "If I have an Uncle, I want to meet him! I've never had relatives before!"

"No Miriam, I shall spare you the pain of conversing with him...besides...you wouldn't like him."

"Is he anything like you?" Miriam asked.

"That is not how I would describe him," He scoffed.

"Then I would want to meet him." Miriam replied, frustrated with Sherlock's lack of compliance. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

"I'll leave you alone to pretend you're doing homework" Sherlock said over his shoulder. He walked down the stairs, and switched on his laptop. Even though he hated to admit it, Miriam was right. He would have to tell them sooner or later. Opening a blank email, he tried to type an email to Lestrade. Telling someone that you faked your suicide was not an easy thing to do. No, he wouldn't do it in person; he didn't want anyone blubbering over him. Shutting his computer, he stood up. He'd find a way to tell him later. Perhaps it was time to pay his brother a visit. Miriam was right. She did deserve to meet her uncle… No matter how irritating he was. He groaned and walked back upstairs. "Miriam?" He called through the door. He sighed. "I am going to see Mycroft. I must warn you, he is quite dull… But, if you would truly wish to meet him…" Miriam's door opened to reveal her standing with a smile. "Let's go."

"I am pleased to finally meet you in person, Miriam. I have been keeping tabs on you, as well as John since the incident 15 years ago. I couldn't contact you, of course. However, I am glad that we are meeting now." Mycroft sipped his tea. Miriam was sitting in a red armchair opposite of his. Sherlock was pacing, occasionally stopping to gaze out of the window. He had seemed to become nervous from the moment he stepped in the door. Miriam tried to focus on Mycroft instead of Sherlock's nervous pacing. It was starting to make her agitated.

"Well, it is nice to meet you too, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft leaned forward. "Actually, we have been monitoring many things about you over the past fifteen years…"

"Monitoring?" Miriam raised her eyebrow. Sherlock glanced over from the window, his forehead creased.

"We have been looking mostly at your grades, and classes and such."

"My grades?" Miriam didn't see where this was going.

"Yes, Miriam. According to our records, you are an exceptionally smart student. 4.0 GPA in your freshman year… You are in honors classes in pre-calculus, chemistry, and English. You are taking Latin language courses, as well as Mandarin. Your classes are very rigorous, and you seem like the type of student who challenges herself." He paused. Sherlock was trying to hide a smile. Miriam was more confused than ever.

"What do you mean? Why are you so interested in my academics?" Mycroft ignored her and went on.

"We have also been assessing your ability in dangerous situations."

"What?"

"Tests. Over the last few years, we have conducted few tests so that we could get a sense for your ability to handle different situations." Mycroft sipped his tea again, apparently not seeing Miriam gaping at him. He continued. "We conducted a test to monitor your ability in escaping from a dangerous situation. You remember, of course. Last year we sent an armed man to encounter you as you as you walked home. We had to do this a few times, in fact. You, as we found, are very good at reading people. You took very good precautions when you saw the man that we sent to follow you. You did so well, that you never even encountered him the first time we sent him! The second time, we sent a woman, hoping that we could throw you off. You avoided her as well. We finally got someone to meet you on the third try." Mycroft paused, as if waiting for her reaction. Miriam forced her mouth closed. She blinked hard to clear her head. "I- I remember… He… He grabbed when I was walking home from school one day last year… That- that was you?" She began to grasp what Mycroft was saying. He had sent an armed man to attack her last year… She couldn't believe it! She felt her face heat up with anger. Before she could explode, however, Sherlock's voice came from across the room.

"You sent a professional, armed man to attack her?" His voice was calm, but his expression held anger.

"We needed to assess her."

"She could have been hurt."

"She was in no danger. It was a completely controlled situation!" Miriam could see that Sherlock was preparing an angry comeback, but she interrupted. She didn't want a heated argument. She needed to understand what was going on. "So, you had to assess my ability. Alright, I understand. Why? What would you benefit from this testing?"

"Since you are Sherlock's daughter, we wanted to see how much you behaved like him. We expected that you would not show many similar qualities, since he had not raised you. However, I were very surprised. You are very much like your father."

"John is my dad." Miriam interrupted.

"You showed many of the same qualities as Sherlock. I needed to see how far these qualities extended. I've seen how you observe. Am I wrong in guessing that you have some skill in deduction?" Miriam didn't answer, confirming his question.

"For what purpose have you been observing me?"

"We are hoping that you will eventually follow in Sherlock's footsteps. I believe that you will be able to assist in cases. Especially if we can train you more; especially in deduction and observation. We will also have to teach you basic defense."

"You want me to go to crime scenes?"

"Precisely." Mycroft sat back, as if waiting for her answer. Miriam glanced at Sherlock, surprised at his expression. He seemed almost proud of her… She turned back to Mycroft, a grin growing on her face.

"When can I start?"

"Now."