Notes: So sorry it has taken me this long to post this chapter life has just been strange and haven't been writing as much as I would have expected but it's here now. I hope you are all keeping safe.
Disclaimer All that is Canon belongs to Gatiss, Moffat and the BBC and anyone I don't know about. The only characters I own are Sam and Jen. This chapter does contain dialogue from the episode so please don't sue me.
A little heads up with a few feature chapters, I have speed up the timeline of series two. This is to help my story progress a tad bit quicker. (Thought the speed sadly doesn't help with the amount writing)
I also want to give a quick little shoutout thank you too Pipsy your review on the last chapter meant so much to me, I was honestly at the point of almost giving up on this story so I really want to say a big thank you to you.
So onto News Years Day Enjoy!
Molly woke to feel Sherlock's arms around her, hugging her close to his body. It really felt like she had gone back to thirteen years ago. To the Uni days and lazy mornings in bed. For a moment she wished she could go back to that time.
Then her brain kicked in. All that had done was share the bed, but she couldn't allow herself to believe this would become a regular thing that might lead to other things. This was just helping Sherlock for one night.
Turning around gently so she didn't wake him. Molly saw Sherlock in a deep sleep. She always loved seeing him like this. It was the only time he ever looked relaxed; he reminded her of Sam.
"Sam!" Molly whispered quietly to herself. She couldn't really let herself believe this could be the start of things again. 'It's how it all began before," she self-consciously remembered.
Slowly getting out of bed, Molly headed to the bathroom to have a shower before work. When she came back to the room, the bed was empty. She could hear Sam and Sherlock talking in the kitchen. "At least he didn't leave," Molly said to herself.
Once dressed for work, she headed to the kitchen area where she saw Sam sat eating a piece of toast. "You're up early, love."
"Couldn't sleep, Mum. So, thought I might just get up. Sherlock made us breakfast."
Molly looked over and saw a plate with her own few slices of toast on it. "Thank you, Sherlock." Molly sat opposite her daughter so she could also eat.
Sherlock, with a mug of coffee in hand, merely nodded his head. It was then she knew the topic of the bed-sharing was over and they would not talk about it.
"Sherlock said I could stay at his flat tonight. If that's okay. Is it? I go back to school soon." Sam spoke rather quickly.
Molly looked at Sherlock. He was looking at her inquisitively. "If it's not convenient, I could always arrange for another time."
"Oh no, it's fine." Molly turned back to Sam. "When you've finished breakfast, Sherlock and I are heading to Bart's. That will give you time to pack a bag with everything you need in it. Who's watching you today?"
"Elliot is, he can help, I guess."
"Good." Molly checked the time on her watch. "Sherlock, we should probably get going."
Putting his now empty mug in the sink, Sherlock walked to put his coat on. "I'll pick you up later, Sam."
"Okay. See you later. Bye, Mum, love you."
Molly kissed her daughter. "Love you, too."
In the lab, Molly was curious about what Sherlock was doing. "Is that a phone?"
Sherlock didn't take his eyes off the computer screen. "It's a camera-phone."
"And you're x-raying it?"
"Yes, I am."
"Whose phone is it?
"A woman's," Sherlock replied bluntly.
"Your girlfriend?"
"You think she's my girlfriend because I'm x-raying her possessions?"
Molly laughed. "Well, we all do silly things!"
"Yes." Sherlock paused for a moment thinking. "They do, don't they? Very silly." Quickly, he got up and took the phone out of the box behind his chair. "She sent this to my address. And she loves to play games." Sherlock began typing into the phone.
"She does?" Molly asked, not liking where this conversation was going.
The phone made a buzzer noise, and defeated once again, Sherlock sat back at the computer and continued clicking away. Molly could see it disappointed him. "Sam is looking forward to tonight."
"Is she?" Sherlock's face didn't turn from the computer, but Molly saw his face soften.
"Yes, she texted me an hour ago saying she was looking forward to it."
Sherlock looked at Molly for a moment. "I like to spend time with her."
"Well, obviously Sam feel the same way."
Once he finished at Bart's, Sherlock quickly picked up Sam and took her to Baker Street, he had in mind to go through maybe a few cold cases, though Molly suggested watching a few films. He guessed it would all depend on what Sam would want to do.
"Put your bag in my room," Sherlock said to Sam.
As Sam walked to his room, she noticed Sherlock act strangely, like he was investigating something. She watched as he sniffed and walked to a window in the kitchen. Continuing down the hall, she felt his presence behind her as she entered his bedroom, which had the door open slightly.
Sam saw it first. She felt her anger boil like the night of the Christmas party. It took her a moment to realise John Watson had entered the flat.
"Hey, Sherlock…" he called.
"We have a client," Sherlock stated, going into detective mode.
"What, in your bedroom?" John said, walking towards them. He noticed the detective's daughter before he entered the room. "Hey, Sam." He then looked at the bed. "Oh."
There was The Woman fast asleep in Sherlock's bed.
Sam wasn't sure how they woke Irene up, though she wished John had allowed her to have it be a rude awakening, with cold water or a hard poke with one of her crutches.
"I'm not staying," she told Sherlock as she tried to put her bag back on her back, which almost caused her to collapse on the floor. Luckily, Sherlock had his cat-like reflexes and kept her steady on her feet.
"No, stay. I'd like you to stay."
"You have a case. Priorities, right?"
John could tell Sam wanted to leave, but Sherlock didn't want her to go. "Sam, maybe you could stay for a bit, yeah?"
Sherlock gave his best pleading look.
"Okay."
They all sat in the living room, Sam in John's chair, John at the table by his laptop. The Woman in Sherlock's chair. This left Sherlock to sit by the desk so he could see everyone in the room.
"So, who's after you?"
"People who want to kill me."
"Who's that?" Sherlock asked.
"Killers."
"Can they get on with it and finish the job already?" Sam added in, giving Irene a deadly death stare.
John ignored Sam's comment. "It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific."
"So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them?"
"It worked for a while."
"Except you let John know that you're alive and therefore me."
"I knew you'd keep my secret," Irene said, turning back to look at Sam.
"You couldn't."
"But you did, didn't you?"
Sam grew bored with the adult conversation. She felt her anger inside, knowing that this woman had been in her father's bed, a place she was meant to sleep tonight. Had he been with her the night before, then decided to go to her place and sleep with her mother as well? Was he playing them? Was he now spending time with her, saying he wanted her over tonight because he felt guilty?
"Molly Hooper," John said.
Both Sam and Sherlock looked at him.
"Don't bring my mum into this," Sam said, now giving him her death stare.
John again ignored Sam, explaining his plan, which Sam could tell her dad didn't like as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. He began questioning Irene about the phone. She didn't enjoy watching them talk back and forth with each other like it was a tennis match.
"Hamish," John spoke, like it was his life's mission to make this even more awkward. "John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names."
Sherlock looked sick at the thought, and Sam could agree she felt the same. "Don't give them ideas, John. I mean Sherlock's already made one mistake, me, by the way." Sam gave him a wave that dripped in sarcasm. "Couldn't see him doing it again." She turned to Irene. "My mum is worth ten of you. I don't see him dropping his trousers for the likes of you."
"Err Sam, how about you go downstairs, see Mrs Hudson have her make you some lunch?" Sherlock quickly shuffled her out of the room.
Sam left the room with her bag on her back and slowly made her way down the stairs to Mrs Hudson's flat, knocking on the door. It wasn't long before the landlady appeared. "Oh, Sam, happy new year. dear. I didn't know you were here."
"Happy New Year, Mrs Hudson, I need your help. You see, the thing is, I was meant to be staying the night, but he," Sam pointed towards the celling, "has a case. I don't feel comfortable being here. Could you call Mycroft and have one of his guys pick me up?"
"If that's what you want, I will call him now. Come in and sit down while we wait."
"Thank you." Sam walked into the flat.
It was late in the evening, and Sherlock was strumming on his violin. "Coventry." His eyes and mind snapped back to reality.
"I've never been," Irene said, looking at him. "Is it nice?"
"Where's John?"
"He went out, a couple of hours ago."
"I was just talking to him."
"He said you do that."
"Sam?" Sherlock questioned.
"Went home, I think. She hasn't returned since you told her to go downstairs, and I heard voices from the front hall earlier."
"Obviously she was picked up by someone, then," Sherlock stated, picturing it in his mind. "Oh, not good. She's upset, which will mean Molly's upset. Will try to sort that tomorrow."
"What's Coventry got to do with anything?" Irene asked him, changing the topic.
Some time later, with the case successfully dealt with, Sherlock's parting words to Irene were, "Sorry about dinner."
Those words ran through Sherlock's head on the car journey later
The streets of London were dark. Only lit by the streetlights.
"Where do you want me to take you to, sir?" The driver asked him.
The detective thought for a moment he knew he should go to Sam. To talk to Molly, and explain everything. He wanted to go to them.
"Baker Street." Sherlock said.
Just because he wanted them didn't mean he should go to them. If he wanted to contact them, he could always text. There was still time to see Sam before she headed back to start her new term at school in the next couple of days. He promised himself he would go tomorrow to see them. This was a promise he didn't keep. The Holmes's and the Hooper's did not contact each other until Sam was back at school.
Sherlock's phone echoed around the empty flat. Setting down his violin, he picked up his phone.
I understand it's your job to help and save people and I always want you to save people, but I wish it didn't come at a price. Always help people but don't forget about me. – Sam
'Always help people' those were the words that stuck with him over the course of the days and weeks that followed. He returned to his promise of contacting Sam via text every day. Mostly, he only got a few word responses. At least she is replying, he thought to himself.
It was when he was trying to sleep one night when he swore he heard Sam whisper, 'Always help people,' and he knew he had to do something. Picking up his phone he sent one text to a phone he knew his brother wouldn't have access to.
The phone in question he gifted during the summer, allowing him to text back and forth with the recipient about stories and ideas she would relay back to his brother without him knowing.
Leaving the country for a bit. Top secret. Don't tell Mycroft. After he asks John, I'm sure he will come to you next. Now's the time to put your lying skills to the test. I know you've got plenty of practice. Make it count – SH
Sam rolled over in bed being woken by her phone. Carefully pulling it out of her pillowcase, she read the text and sent a three word response.
Please be safe.
He received the text, meaning it was time to pack light and head to Karachi.
In a hotel room, he sat with Irene. They had gotten away and were hiding. He had talked her through all the information in a file he had created that would allow her to start a new life.
Irene took the file from Sherlock's hand and put it back on the table in the corner of her hotel room. Walking back to the bed, she sat down next to him and took his hand, tracing her fingers around his until they locked together.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked her confusedly.
She brought her other hand up to his face and traced it around his cheek. "And I thought you were a genius," she whispered.
Briefly she kissed him, and Sherlock wasn't sure if he responded. He continued to look at her, not sure what would happen next. Her hand was still on the side of his face, as she looked into his eyes. "There it is."
"There's what?" Sherlock asked.
"The lost look in your eyes you share with your daughter."
He let go of her hand and moved away slightly. "How do you know a look Sam has? You were hardly in her company at Baker Street."
Irene's confidence dropped slightly, and her body language spoke for her.
Anger rose within him. "Have you had contact with my daughter?"
Irene turned her head away from him. "Yes."
Standing up from the bed, Sherlock moved to get away from Irene.
"It was only one meeting at her school and a text message. Just a harmless game."
"A harmless game." Sherlock spat the words, his anger starting to reach boiling point. "What did this meeting consist of?"
"Just me saying she needed to have you text me. Then I later texted her I would need it to be sent by the end of Christmas Eve. If she didn't, I told her people would get hurt. People that matter to her."
"That's why she asked me if I texted you." Sherlock whispered to himself remembering how Sam had asked him after his visit to the morgue. "You brought MY DAUGHTER into this."
"It was just a game. You liked my games I thought she would too."
"No! you do not bring a child, my child, into this. It's clear now why she was so hostile to you. Why didn't she tell me?"
"I told her she couldn't."
"YOU THREATENED HER?!"
"It wasn't like that." Irene said, trying to defend her actions. "She didn't get hurt."
"Not physically, but emotionally." Sherlock grabbed his coat and started to put it on.
"No, please don't leave. I didn't want us to end like this." Irene moved, trying to remove his coat.
Sherlock moved from her grasp. "You've had my help. That is your life now." Sherlock pointed at the file on her table.
"Sherlock, please come with me," Irene cried. "You can join me. Us together."
Sherlock ignored her. "I would prefer you never contacted me ever again, but I would rather that than Sam. Never contact her again. Do I make myself clear."
Irene nodded, tears still running down her face.
"If you do, I'll make sure you wished I hadn't rescued you."
Irene nodded her head once more. "They're lucky to have you. Goodbye, Sherlock."
Sherlock turned and left the room, not looking back once. That was how Irene Adler became The Woman.
The first place Sherlock wanted to go, when he made it back to London, was Molly's flat. With a quick hack into the Bart's shift pattern for that week, he could see that it was Molly's day off. Though he worried how this unplanned meeting with Molly would go, considering he had not spoken or had contact with her since New Year's Day, when Sam had run away from Baker Street.
He nervously stood outside her door before he knocked on it. It wasn't long before Molly opened the door dressed in a pair of pyjama bottoms that had kittens on and a big yellow jumper. Sherlock's mind calmed just by looking at her.
"Oh, err, hello, Sherlock?" Molly stuttered. "Been a while."
"Yes, I apologise for that."
"Cases kept you busy?" Molly wanted to kick herself. Why was she allowing them to go through this polite small talk when she knew they both hated it.
"Yes, you could say they have. Is it possible if I could come in, we need to talk? It's urgent and involves Sam."
Molly's face paled, and Sherlock watched as she opened the door wider. "I guess you should come in." He followed her into the flat and shut the front door. "Sam is okay, isn't she?"
"Oh yes, it's just some information's come to light, and I felt I needed to share it with you."
"Let's go into the living room and you can explain everything. Do you want me to make you a tea or coffee?"
"No, Molly I will be okay."
They both sat on the sofa, not knowing where to start. "So what was it you wanted to tell me?."
Sherlock had had the whole flight back to London to think about what he would say to Molly when this moment came. Struggling for a moment, he finally said. "Do you remember The Woman? The one on Christmas Eve?"
"Yes, I remember the one who was not a face. Last you said she was still alive."
Sherlock nodded. "Technically, she still is."
Molly looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean technically?"
"I helped her escape death once more. Everyone including Mycroft will believe she is still dead. No one else will know that, and I won't tell John." Sherlock looked at Molly as if he had expected her to post on Twitter she had a secret.
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."
"Good." Sherlock nodded, knowing he could trust her.
"So what does this have to do with Sam?"
"Oh yes. It seems The Woman has been in contact and threatened our daughter."
Molly's blood boiled. "And you still helped her?"
"I only found out she threatened Sam after I saved her life." Sherlock spoke, defending his actions.
"What did she do exactly?"
"It started just after Sam had surgery. She turned up on the day when you left me with Sam. When you covered that shift. She was outside Sam's hospital door. I didn't have time to talk to her as she disappeared." Sherlock remembered regretting, not getting the chance to bring this up with Irene.
"You never said."
"I didn't think it was important I didn't want you to worry. We wanted Sam to get better."
"Is this all she did?" Molly asked, not knowing if she wanted the answer.
"She visited Sam at school. Turned up and had a meeting with her. She wanted Sam to text me back by a set date over the Christmas period. Then if I didn't, Sam was told something would happen to people she cared about."
"Oh, Sam. Why didn't she speak to me… us?" Molly began to cry.
"I believe Sam would have thought if she spoke to us, it would cause something bad to happen."
"Oh, she must have been under so much stress. I thought it was because of her getting back on her feet and walking again. I feel so bad I didn't notice it." Molly put her head in her hands and cried harder.
Sherlock moved closer and put his arm around her. "I should have noticed. It involved me. A case with The Woman, how could I not know?"
"She covers things up so well." Molly wiped her eyes. "She got that from us."
"Learnt from the best." Sherlock chuckled.
"Sam is okay now, right? This woman won't come back will she?"
"No, I have made it very clear if she contacts Sam again there will be trouble."
"That's good." Molly said. "Does Sam know you know?"
"No, she does not."
"I think you should see her. The school she goes to allows the students to head into the local town on the weekend, if you'd like to arrange to see Sam. "
"I will have to go in a disguise. I can't risk having anyone recognise me and try to link me with Sam."
Molly laughed. "You in disguise, that will make Sam laugh."
"I hope so. She needs to laugh and know this is all over."
Sam was in her maths class when the text came through. Waiting until lunch, she checked her phone.
Will be down your way on Saturday, we need to talk. Molly said they allow you to head into town on the weekend. How about a coffee? – SH
"Who's that from?" Jen asked.
"Sherlock," she whispered, worried people would overhear them. "He is coming here on Saturday to meet up. Wants to talk, apparently."
"Here? Like in the school?"
"No, in town; going to grab a coffee and chat. He never chats. Hooper's chat, Holmes stare awkwardly and wait for the chatting to stop."
"Well, it must be important if he is coming all this way. What coffee shop, because he needs to be specific. There are like eight on the high street alone."
"I'll have David work it out with him."
"You can't have your bodyguard be your go between you and your dad."
"Look, it's easier and safer for him to set it up for safety reasons."
Sam's phone pinged again.
"Oh, someone is popular today." Stacey, one of Sam and Jen's friends, commented, sitting down next to them.
"I got two texts. That's nothing new." Sam opened her phone and read the text.
I will be in disguise – SH
That was something she would have to see.
David picked a coffee shop he knew most of the students would not head to because of its expensive prices. "You okay going in by yourself?" he asked her when they were outside of the shop.
"Yeah, I think I will be fine," Sam said, grabbing the wheels of the chair and pushing her arms forwards. "Would you mind grabbing the door?"
David opened the door as Sam wheeled herself into the coffee shop. She had never admitted it out loud, but she loved to push herself in her chair. She loved the way she could feel the wheels in her hands and knew she was fully in control. Just an inch of movement in her arms and it would move her slightly. It had gotten to the point where she was so used to pushing herself she didn't need to concentrate on how to control the wheels. Like how with walking you don't need to tell your brain to put one step in front of the other, it came naturally. She was the one in charge and control. She only hoped this meeting would go the same way.
Sam scanned the shop till she noticed a man sat at a table on his own with two drinks, one directly in front of him the other was much further away. He had long blond hair, which Sam was sure was a wig. He was also wearing a black leather jacket. He looked up at her, and she saw her dad's eyes. Biting back a laugh, she rolled over to him. "Man, I know I once told you I want to be Hannah Montana, but that doesn't mean you have to dress like her."
"You said she hid her identity with a blond wig. I thought it might work for me," Sherlock said, flicking a bit of the hair over his shoulder.
"Is that a Hawaiian shirt?" Sam asked, looking at him a bit more closely as she transferred from her wheelchair to a chair at the table.
"Yes" Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with it?"
"More like what's right with it. No one wears a shirt like that this side of Easter."
"I thought it might help me not look like me."
Sam laughed. "Well, you have definitely achieved that, but maybe keep the Hawaiian shirts for a case in a hotter climate."
"I will keep that in mind next time I'm in disguise."
"So you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I wanted to let you know I know about the meeting you had with The Woman."
"Oh, did John tell you? He did, didn't he? I knew I couldn't trust him to keep a secret."
"No, John didn't tell me. Wait, John knew?"
"He only texted me because he got a text from David telling him about the meeting but not to tell you and Mycroft. I explained everything to him when I had that lunch with him."
"New Year's Eve?" Sherlock questioned.
Sam nodded.
"Why didn't John tell me?"
"Because I asked him not too. How do you know about this, anyway?"
"The Woman told me. She told me herself. I helped her escape death once more Mycroft doesn't even know she is alive, and it will stay that way. I've given her a new identity and enough information that she can start a new life. She told me everything to do with you after I saved her life."
"I can see why she didn't tell you before. That's why you headed out of the country without Mycroft knowing."
"Yes. He didn't suspect a thing."
"Why did you help her?" asked Sam.
"It was because of something you said. In a text 'Always help people'. I listened for once and did that."
Sam looked over her shoulder as she felt as if they were being watched. "She won't come back will she, Sherlock?"
"No, she won't. I clarified that if she ever contacts you again, there will be trouble. I am sorry I couldn't protect you from her, Sam."
Sam took his hands. "It's okay. I mean, I'm still a secret the public doesn't know about me. I'm safe in that aspect. I am still living my day-to-day life."
"Yes, but what if she had gone to the press or other people? That would be dangerous. Your mother would never forgive me."
"Or Mycroft," Sam added. "I'm glad you saved her. I don't like her at all, but at least she has a second chance, thanks to you."
Sherlock smiled, knowing that maybe he'd done the right thing in saving her.
"I don't think you should tell John about knowing about the meeting. Keep that a secret too. He doesn't need the trouble of that coming out or dealing with Mycroft."
"No, he doesn't. Maybe trouble will lie low for a bit," Sherlock said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Not bloody likely." Sam smiled.
She was right. Trouble would be round the corner in the form of Moriarty in a crown.
Notes: Did you enjoy that chapter? What do you think will happen next?
I don't know when I will be back with a new chapter but I hope it won't be too long. Please keep safe.
As always thank you goodshipsherlollipop for beta reading this for me. I am so grateful