"You made me a cup of tea as well as a buying me a bar of chocolate" Joss mock gasped, her smile was affectionate and teasing. "Is the world coming to an end? Who are you and what have you done with the real Sherlock Holmes?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, the glare imperious and cutting and swung back around taking the mug back towards the kitchen. She whined pleadingly "No, no, I was only teasing, gimme my tea please, pretty please, darling, dearest, handsomest, most wonderful, amazing, generous, genius of the universe" she made grabby hands at the mug and Sherlock smirked, one eyebrow raised, waiting for more. as she scrambled hastily into the kitchen to bar his way to the sink and stand in front of him. "You are the king of consulting detectives, you have impeccable dress sense, you have the curliest hair, and the sexiest cheekbones of the entire world, your website is a veritable fountain of knowledge and so easy to read, you are kind to kittens, puppies and small furry animals and especially thirsty, tea deprived, sad so very sad teenage girls,"
She wobbled her bottom lip at him so much he was reminded of a jelly on a plate, and opened her blue eyes as wide as possible, her eye lashes fluttering ridiculously. He snorted, refusing to accede, and not letting any amusement show on his face whilst still eyeing the sink contemplatively.

There was a pause as she stared up hopefully at him "You are a tough nut to crack Sherlock" she groaned but he could hear the admiration in her tone, "Okay, big guns time…I will sing your praises to Dad and tell him how absolutely wonderful you have been, and won't even mention the fact that there were big toes mixed in with the carton of eggs this morning, won't mention it at all, ever, never. My lips will be sealed by the delicious mug of fragrant tea you have so generously made for me"
The innocent grin transformed into the very same gloating smirk that he had been wearing. It was almost identical in every respect.

They moved back into the living room, his face not showing the satisfaction that he had successfully taken her mind of that damn DVD, and all the uncomfortable, even painful questions that it had generated. There was still evidence of her distress on her face, her eyes were still rather red rimmed, but her body posture had relaxed and she had returned to her usual teasing behaviour around him, albeit a rather watered down version. The threat of the big toe revelation had comforted him that she was feeling marginally better. Blackmail had become the perfect barometer of normalcy in their household.

By the time John returned, she would be more emotionally comfortable and less likely to sob into her father's shoulder. Well he presumed so, emotions had never been his strong point unless they related to a case, or he needed to put on a character to further his investigations.

He held out the mug to her, exaggerating the lift of his eyebrow and the line of his nose, and no it was not to make her smile again, he was still play acting to soothe her previous distress and make life easier for him.

He refused to consider exactly why Jocelyn Jayne's comfort level would make life easier for him but it still could surprise him, (which was completely annoying), that the girl could do something he wasn't expecting. She had moved past the mug floating in mid-air and into his personal space, whereupon she proceeded to wrap her arms around him and then rested her head on his chest for what seemed like an interminable amount of time, but was probably merely seconds. She whispered a muffled "Love you" against his chest, then stepped back and away, taking the mug from his hand and moving to the sofa to sit down as if she hadn't done it and had not just said those damn words to him.

He stood there immobile, his breath caught in his chest, starring at the blonde curls at the back of her head as she began to ask him inane questions about a trashy TV programme as if she hadn't just opened her mouth and uttered something that was tearing through him with the force of a pile driver. She'd said it before and he had managed to ignore it, pretend it hadn't happened, pretend the words hadn't lodged themselves inside his brain where he couldn't delete or overwrite them, where he had tucked them away inside his mind palace, in the dingy little room he had allocated to the damn intrusive rug rat, the room which for some reason was turning into a fascinating maze with clues and puzzles he was determined to solve, a maze that held a gentle ambient comfortable warmth that he recognised from John's part of his mind palace.

"Sherlock" she pleaded, suddenly shy and unsure, her attention still focused on the TV as if she was deliberately not looking at him, "Don't get mad please, I didn't mean to upset you, I just needed to say it, especially today, after watching Mum, life's too short not to tell the people you love that you love them" She stopped abruptly, as her voice thickened up, and her head lowered for a second before she drew a deep calming breath. But he could see the tension in her body, as if she feared his rejection again.

For a few seconds he studied the figure on the sofa, then his frown cleared and his instinctive immobility ended, he moved forward completely in command of his body, mind and instincts again.
"Drink your tea Joss" Sherlock advised calmly as he sat on his chair, refusing to look back at her when she peeped over at him, her lips curled up in a small smile, but he could feel his quirk in response. Damn intrusive ankle biter. He ignored the madly vibrating phone in his pocket. Bloody meddling Mycroft could wait. This had nothing to do with him.

Sherlock was just giving his very loud and perfectly correct opinion on the adulterous nature of the father of ten from Norfolk proclaiming his innocence on the Jeremy Kyle show before the results of the obligatory polygraph test was announced and Joss had casually drifted to sit on the floor beside his chair, her side resting against his legs which they had both ignored as if it wasn't happening when they heard the front door open.

"Dad" Joss murmured, her voice pleased, as she made to get up, but Sherlock's reaction was different as he suddenly looked towards the door, his face stern, "Jocelyn Jayne please go to your room" he ordered abruptly. Joss looked up at him with concerned bewilderment, "Sherlock, what? What's the matter?" She asked uncertainly, wondering what had happened to the peaceful contentment they had both been enjoying.

"Please do as I say now" Sherlock's next words were even harsher and there was a tone of urgency that had Joss almost standing to attention and after another searching glance at him and the living room door as she heard more than one pair of footsteps mount the stairs, she obeyed him without any further argument. She didn't see him rise from the chair and go to stand by the fireplace, his face bland but his right hand, the one behind his back was clenched into a white knuckled fist and anger lurked deep in those silver eyes.

At the top of the stairs, John ushered his sister before him into the living room. He was rather surprised to see that only Sherlock was in attendance, looking remote, unforgiving and somehow hard as ice standing next to the fireplace. Then he thought her current absence would do nicely.
John raised one eyebrow to ask where Jocelyn was without mentioning her by name yet, because he had a plan for dealing with Harry, a plan which had seemed to spring fully formed from his mind so he was honestly confused at the glare he received from Sherlock. John had thought Sherlock would have approved of this little reveal, and the opportunity to tear a strip of Harry.

The bland words falling from his partner's lips "Is this wise John?" dripped with ice and took John by surprise. He frowned at his partner, what had burrowed up his backside this time?

Harry took the words personally and tried to smooth things over "John and I met up and we thought it was time we mended fences and that includes you Sherlock" she offered her hand in a gesture of peace, a placating smile on her face although her eyes were assessing and trying to calculate the best way of winning over the rude, inconsiderate insufferable git. How her brother put up with him she utterly failed to understand.
"I owe you an apology for…" Sherlock cut her off rudely, "I said do you really think this is wise John, such games really aren't your forte and I don't think you have considered all the consequences" he growled with increasing irritation, Harriet was not even a consideration at this point.

Harry's hand hung in mid-air for a few seconds before she dropped it as it was clear Sherlock wasn't remotely interested in shaking her hand. She looked uncertainly back at her brother for a moment and saw the strangest expression on his face, then he turned to smile at her but it never reached his eyes and she began to feel uncomfortable again. What the hell was going on with these two?

"Take a seat Harry" John said coolly, and to his sister it almost sounded like an order, she switched her gaze between the two men and saw how Holmes's lips tightened, and then he seemed to abandon his objections and turned to focus back on her as she sat down.

"I have no interest in any attempts to mend fences as you so eloquently put it Harriet" he spoke bluntly and unequivocally and then turned his back to the pair of them. The intention to ignore them was obvious. They didn't see his fingers fly over his phone as he sent the message.

"I understand Sherlock" Harry tried again, staying calm in face of his provocation, because she had missed her little brother even though they fought like cats and dogs, and she didn't want to lose this opportunity. "But we are practically family now and surely some allowances can be made for that" she continued smoothly, she would be damned if she looked like the villain of the piece, John would see she was trying her best to appease the surly son of a bitch.

It was John who responded in that odd tone of voice again "And of course that's something you believe in wholeheartedly isn't it Sis? Family obligations" Harry frowned at him, finally allowing her suspicions to play across her face. She stood up to face him "If you have a problem with me John, just spit it out and get it over with, after all you were the one who requested this meeting" her voice and eyes now as hard as his.

He stared at her for what seemed like hours and then seemed to make up his mind, but before he could open his mouth, Holmes once again interrupted, "She will be hurt John, you have to stop this now". Harry looked at him in surprise, first the man tells her in no uncertain terms that he won't have anything to do with her and then he tries to protect her from John. She knew he was eccentric to say the least but was he actually insane as well? No matter, if his words gave John pause then she would accept the olive branch and try to find out what bug had crawled up her brother's arse this time. With Holmes as a rather surprising ally maybe John could be brought to see reason quicker than he normally did.

Jocelyn stood pale and unnoticed in the entrance to the living room, they hadn't heard her come down the stairs, pop into Mrs Hudson's place and then make her way back up the stairs.
In truth she hadn't meant to eavesdrop, she had been happy to obey Sherlock and stay in her room but even after the almost biblical flood of tears, she needed to wee. She couldn't use their loo because it would be obvious that someone else was in the flat. So she had slipped sneakily downstairs to Mrs Hudson's flat to use the toilet and have a cuppa with her, maybe even a biscuit or two. But Mrs Hudson had been on her way out so once she had availed herself of the facilities, she only got a hug for her troubles and sent back upstairs. Joss tried to ignore the fact that she was starting to get hungry and made her way just as stealthily back up the stairs intending to go to her room

Sherlock obviously didn't want the client whoever that was, to be aware of her presence and it didn't bother her because she needed some time alone after the emotional roller coaster, no not that, it had been a bloody bumper car extravaganza she had been riding. And she didn't know how much longer the client was going to be there. She knew she had to speak to her Dad about what she had seen in the DVD but she wasn't sure she could go through that again today. She felt exhausted, drained and she really badly just wanted to sit on the sofa with her Dad and have a cwtch after something to eat. To be honest, the cuddle was more important to her right now.

Sherlock had been very un-Sherlock- like in a typical Sherlock manner. Well she knew what she meant, maybe. He had been thoughtfully thoughtless, caring in his own self-centred way, kind and cruel and a right bloody softie as long as she wasn't looking at him. He was such an absolute git, and she loved him for it. Not very long ago she would have just walked away as fast as her little legs could carry her, muttering curses and very, very bad names under her breath, loud enough for him to hear but not her father, trying to work out a way to get even with the git unobtrusively. She really, really, really didn't ever want her father to be angry with her the same way he had been when she had accidently broken Sherlock's bow. He had been absolutely terrifying.

But Sherlock the big idiot fascinated her, as much as he outraged her, she had never known anyone like him. He had bought her a chocolate bar damn him, a bloody bar of chocolate, and that was before he had found out about the DVD. Caring was not an advantage her wicked welsh backside!

So if Sherlock wanted her out of the way for some reason of his own, she would oblige him. He had more than earned her trust and affection today.

She was heading silently towards the stairs to her bedroom, concentrating on her stealthy ninja act. "So there Sherlock Cartoons are educational," she muttered under her breath with a grin. Maybe she should introduce him to the adventures of SpongeBob and Patrick. She had after all developed her stealth ninja capability after crushing on Sandy the Squirrel in that show, because that girl really, really knew how to "ninj". Was that even a word let alone a verb?

Now she had a silly grin on her face because she felt ridiculous, she was actually starting to relax, and tiredness was creeping up on her, she just wanted to get back to her bedroom, curl up on her bed and have a little nap until Dad called her for dinner. She rubbed her eyes and suppressed a yawn still trying to be mega quiet and focused on getting to her room when she heard the Voice. She froze, she was still in the shadows of the unlit upper staircase and she didn't want to turn round. She had imagined it, it was because she had been watching the DVD, it wasn't real, just her mind playing tricks on her, but she couldn't move from the spot. She opened her mouth, she needed her Dad, she needed Sherlock, she needed them to ground her back into reality. It was just a stupid bad memory that was all.

Before she could utter a word, she heard her Dad speak, and the relief was so great it left her weak at the knees, and so distracted she didn't hear what he said. What was the matter with her? Of course it was her imagination, she was so stupid. Then she heard someone respond to her father, not Sherlock, it wasn't Sherlock talking to him, it couldn't be Sherlock because she heard that Voice again, she heard the Voice in the living room talking to her Dad, the Voice invading her home, invading her safe place once again. The Voice was talking to her Dad. But it was calm and nice. It wasn't the same venomous Voice that despoiled the places she had lived in the past with her mother.

How could she have forgotten? How could she have dismissed the Voice from her mind as if it didn't matter? Sometimes it had hissed words on a phone call and her mum had told her never to answer the phone again, her Mum had even gotten rid of the landline and just kept a small cheap mobile she used for emergencies. But when the Voice couldn't reach down the phone line and spew poison into their ears, then it would turn up in person.

Her insides clenched with instinctive fear, she was seven again and hiding under her mum's bed, listening to that cold hateful voice spill nasty words at her lovely mum, knowing that they had to move again because the Voice wouldn't leave them be, that after the Voice left they would either have a visit from the Landlord demanding more money or that they leave, or Social Services or the police wanting a chat with her mum about neglecting her, or about complaints from the neighbours or reports of men coming to the flat at all hours. They were all such awful lies, her Mum had never neglected her, never, and she had never even had a boyfriend.
Suddenly Joss understood why, she had been too young to understand before and she hadn't thought about it for years but hearing that voice had assembled the jigsaw pieces until she had the whole picture. The Voice had hounded them and spread nasty lies about her Mum. Oh God her Mum had been afraid that they would take Joss away if there had been anyone, any man in their lives. It was only when her mum was ill that the Voice had stopped tormenting them.

Her social worker Stephie had asked her outright once if her mum had any enemies, Joss had been exhausted and upset from visiting her Mum in hospital and staying at another new set of foster parents that she didn't really answer her. She also didn't have the energy to ask Stephie why she wanted to know. Joss didn't know who the Voice was and she didn't care anymore, she just wanted her mum to get better.

She stood in the darkness of the hallway listening to the Voice speaking with what seemed like affection to her father, and she felt sick. She wanted to run into the room and warn him, she wanted to scream but her feet wouldn't move. The Voice had scared her for so long, she was such a coward, she couldn't move from the spot. She was going to throw up right there if she didn't move. She could feel the muscles in her chest tighten and her heart beat pounding like she had run all the way home from school. The sound of her pulse was pumping through her ears and drowned out the words they were speaking. Then her mum was mentioned and everything stilled, she couldn't even hear her own breathing anymore, but she could hear every single word uttered in the living room.

"Dear Harry, always so loyal and protective. I always relied on you looking after my interests while I was away and you did didn't you? You took care of things for me?" John's words were smooth and calm.

What? Her Dad knew the Voice? Joss stood there unable to understand what was going on. Cold creeping through her body that had nothing to do with the temperature in the building.

"Of course I did John" the smug Voice replied, "I made sure you weren't bothered by stupid meaningless things, you could always trust me to do that"

Her father continued still calm, still smooth as if his words meant nothing, almost a tone of admiration "And you dealt with Mary Morstan for me didn't you Sis?"

"Sis", the Voice was his sister and he knew what she had done? Her Dad knew what the Voice had done to them. Perhaps even asked her to do it? Joss could feel her legs want to give way beneath her but she fought it. She stubbornly swayed on her weak legs, and continued to listen

"I did it for you John, to protect you. Mary Morstan was a lying slut, who wanted to foist some other man's bastard on to you when you were fighting for our country and your life. I wasn't going to let the bitch deceive you and hurt you again. She was a thief, she even went to prison for it. How could you even think of trusting someone like that? Of course the child wasn't yours, it was a con trick" The woman's voice was smooth, sympathetic, understanding and totally, totally believable to someone who didn't know Mary Morstan.

Joss was going to puke. This was her Aunt and her father knew what she had done. She needed to get away, she needed to leave, and she couldn't stay here.

John was savagely pleased, his bloody sister had admitted that she had hounded Mary and Joss, now she was going to find out what she had done and then he was going to destroy the bitch. He risked a glance at Sherlock, who was glaring at him as if he had just pissed in the fireplace in front of him. What the hell was his problem? Harriet was getting her just deserts, he only needed Joss's presence to finish this.

John turned back to his sister and grinned maliciously "There is someone I would like you to meet Harry". His sister looked at him in surprise, he hadn't responded to her words and seemed to have changed the subject.

"Joss would you come to the living room please" he called, not taking his eyes from his sister who was beginning to fidget in her chair, not liking the expression in his eyes one bit and who the hell was this boy he was calling for?

Just as John was about to call for the second time, when the lad seemed to stumble into the living room out of nowhere, she hadn't heard him arrive, had he been lurking on the stairwell. No not a lad, a teenage girl, blonde haired, blue eyes, face as pale as milk. Joss, he'd called her. Dear God he didn't mean that Morstan brat Jocelyn did he? Harriet stared at the kid in astonishment, what the bloody hell was her brother playing at? She hadn't realised that she had said it aloud. But it was the Holmes creature who answered her, not John.

"John is introducing his daughter to you Harriet, but I believe you already know her" Sherlock spat.

John had finally looked at Joss's face instead of his sister's and he was shocked. There was fear in her face as she stared at him.

"She's your sister" she whispered the words as if saying them any louder would make them true "You knew what she did and she's your sister" her voice was dead, no inflection as if they were inconsequential and not ripping through her with poisonous burning claws.

John's attention was taken from Joss when Harriet began to berate him for a fool for taking in the kid of the Morstan bitch.

Joss couldn't take any more, she backed away from the living room and her father as if she was breathing in poison and simply ran.

Sherlock watched her leave, John was too engrossed in tearing a strip off his sister to hear the slam of the front door, too intent on getting his revenge, instead of realising what he had done to their Joss.
He ignored the pair of them and pulled out his mobile phone. His fingers flew over the keypad, tapping the words "Comfort her" and he sent the message.

AN:

Okay, finally got the showdown scene down... took blood sweat and tears this one, Couldn't seem to get the right balance especially as personally I wanted Joss to batter her with the any large pieces of body Sherlock had lying round, but instead poor Joss just gets more angst thrown at her. ... the child is going to be in therapy for centuries, I am an evil person but there will be nice things happening soon.

Enjoy, let me know what you think, no infringement etc.