I do not own Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson, or The Adventure of the Empty House. Enjoy!

Dr. Watson's POV
3 years later…

It was spring of the year 1894, and all London was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed by the murder of the honorable Ronald Adair. The case itself was most unusual, but its surprises were nothing to me compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life. Those three years since Holmes had disappeared had been difficult on Kaelyn to say the least. The poor girl had spent all of her time either sitting at home or running around with Lestrade's son, Derek, solving cases in an attempt to fill the void left by her father. I was pleased with her relationship with the boy, and I hoped that he would someday be the man to heal her broken heart. As for myself, I also turned my attention to crime after Holmes' death, sometimes attempting to solve cases in much the same way he had done; needless to say, I failed miserably. Still, no other case appealed to me as much as this strange death of Ronald Adair.

The day after the crime, I was returning home from my rounds (I had taken up my old practice) and found myself outside the very home that had been the subject of my thoughts for most of the day. By this point in the day, a large crowd had gathered outside the Park Lane mansion. As I drew closer, I noticed that many of these people had surrounded what appeared to be a plain-clothes detective. I moved nearer to hear what he had to say, but his observations seemed to me so ridiculous that I drew back in disgust, and in the process, I bumped into an elderly gentleman carrying a large stack of books. I bent and picked up the books and tried to apologize, but the man merely growled at me and ran off hurriedly through the crowd.

I thought no more of this strange event until later that day when I had returned to my home, and my maid came into my study to tell me that there was a man who wished to speak to me. To my surprise, it was none other than the strange old book collector. "Pardon me for intruding my good man, but I was on my way back to my shop when I happened to see you enter this house, and I thought to myself, 'I'll just pop in and see that kind gentleman and thank him for picking up my books and apologize for my gruff manner.'"

"You make too much of a trifle," I said. "May I ask you how you knew who I was?"

"Well, sir, if it isn't too great a liberty, I am a neighbor of yours for you will find my bookshop on the corner of Church Street and very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you collect yourself, sir; here's British Birds, and Catalase, and The Holy War. Oh a bargain every one of them: with just five volumes, you could easily fill that gap on the second shelf. It looks untidy does it not, sir?"

I turned my head to look at the shelf behind me, and when I had turned again, I saw Sherlock Holmes standing before me. Upon this shock, I believe I fainted for the first and last time in my life; certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared, I found the ends of my collar undone and the tingling aftertaste of brandy upon my lips.

"My dear Watson!" he cried, "I owe you a thousand apologies! I had no idea you would be so affected."

"Holmes!" I gripped his sleeve and felt the thin, sinewy arm beneath it. "Well, you're not a spirit anyhow. Oh my dear chap, I am overjoyed to see you! How on earth did you escape from that terrible abyss?"

"Wait a moment; are you sure you are fit to speak of such things? I have given you a most terrible shock by my unnecessarily dramatic appearance."

"I am perfectly fir to hear all you have to tell." And so, Holmes began his amazing tale with the condition that I join him that evening for whatever he needed me for. When he had finished, only one question remained in my mind. "Have you seen Kaelyn since you returned?"

Holmes' eyes clouded over slightly, and he shook his head. "I have not. Mrs. Hudson told me she was out with the police when I was at Baker Street. That was part of the reason for my being at Park Lane earlier; I was hoping to see her at work."

"Well," I said with a slight laugh, "being with the police could have meant she was out with young Derek Lestrade. You remember the boy, don't you? A year after you left, Kaelyn managed to convince him to become a detective, and he is now the best at the Yard. He and Kaelyn have become very close friends."

I saw Holmes nod sharply as he stood up and began gathering his things. "We must be going now, Watson. We still have our prey to catch."

With that, we were off, rattling through the streets of London just as we had done so many times before. Soon, Holmes and I got out of the cab and set off on foot before winding up in an old, abandoned house. We settled in one of the rooms in the upper story, and Holmes whispered in my ear. "Do you know where we are?"

"Well surely that is Baker Street."

"Exactly. We are in Camden House which is situated directly across from our old quarters. Might I ask you to draw a little nearer to the window, taking every precaution not to show yourself? Let us see if three years has completely taken away my power to surprise you."

I peered through the window and saw, silhouetted against the shade, an outline of a person that was incredibly familiar: Holmes. I reached out and seized his arm to make certain that the real man was indeed beside me, so accurate was the replication.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked, shaking with laughter.

"Good heavens, it is marvelous!" I cried, putting the pieces of our plan together. The criminal Holmes was after would think the dummy was Holmes, allowing us to capture him. It all seemed perfect, but… "Holmes!" I cried suddenly. "What should happen if Kaelyn returns before we have our man?"

"I had already thought of that. Mrs. Hudson said that she does not normally return until well after midnight, and if she does return early, Mrs. Hudson has promised to keep her away from the living room until we are finished."

For many hours we sat, silent, in that room waiting for something to happen. As they hours dragged on, I began to sense Holmes' restlessness; three years had apparently not soothed his limited patience. I had been looking out the window, when I saw two figures approaching Baker Street, and I recognized them as Kaelyn and Derek. I nudged Holmes and pointed to the couple; his nerves appeared to relax for a fraction of an instant as he watched the two move closer to 221B. At the gate, they paused and spoke for several minutes before Derek bent to kiss her hand, and Kaelyn went inside. "Quite the gentleman, eh Holmes?" I said, but Holmes suddenly hushed me and stood rigid, listening with all his might to something I could not yet hear.

He shoved me into the darkest corner of the room, and I finally heard what his heightened senses had already detected; someone was in the house with us. Whoever it was, they were coming up the stairs and into the room where we laid hidden. I pulled out my revolver and made ready to spring, but the man had no inkling of our presence. He made busy with some sort of gun, raised the window, and aimed the gun at the shadow across the street. I heard a strange whizzing noise then the tinkling of shattered glass just as Holmes leapt onto the man's back. Despite the element of surprise, the man quickly had Holmes on the ground and was attempting to choke him, but I struck the man on the head with the butt of my revolver. The man slumped to one side, and I threw myself on top of him just as Holmes blew a sharp call on a whistle. Several policemen burst into the room, followed by a plain-clothes detective, and Inspector Lestrade.

"Is that you, Lestrade?" Holmes called.

"Yes it is, sir; I took the job me self. It's good to see you back in London, sir."

Holmes pulled down the blind as the policemen uncovered their lamps so we could get a look at our prisoner. "Well, well, well, Colonel Moran: it's been too long," Holmes said to the man. "I don't believe I've seen you since you favored me with those attentions at Reichenbach Falls."

Colonel Moran tried to make a leap for Holmes, but the police held him back. "You fiend…you clever, clever fiend!" he hissed.

After a brief time, during which it was revealed how Moran came into possession of the gun, Lestrade made ready to take the Colonel away, but Holmes stopped him.

"The only thing that remains is the question of what charges are to be pressed, Lestrade."

"What charge, sir? Why, the attempted murder of Mr. Sherlock Holmes, of course."

"Not so, Lestrade. I don't suggest to appear in the matter at all. To you and to you only belongs the credit for this great capture. Yes, Lestrade: through your usual method of cunning and ability, you've got him."

"Got him: got who, Mr. Holmes?"

"The man who is responsible for the death of the Honorable Ronald Adair as well as Mrs. Jennifer Moran from all those years ago."

At this, Colonel Moran's head shot up. "I did not kill that woman."

"Perhaps not, but you are still responsible for giving the information that caused her death," Holmes said, his eyes flashing. "You are also responsible for orphaning her child."

Colonel Moran laughed an evil laugh. "The only person responsible for orphaning that girl is you, Mr. Holmes. She still had a father until you got in the way. You know just as well as I do the true lineage of that girl, and I know how it tortures you even now."

"Here now," Lestrade said sharply. "If you don't want Mr. Holmes jibing at you, then I suggest you don't jibe at him." With that, Lestrade and the policemen left the room, pulling Moran along behind them.

Holmes merely stood in the center of the room, staring blankly at the place where Moran had been. I had no idea what to say to him as I had no idea what it was that was troubling him. The only thing I could think of that would trouble him so was what Moran had said about Kaelyn's true parentage. I had long known, of course, that the man who had lived with her was not her real father, but no one had ever tried to find out who her real father was. Kaelyn herself had told us not to, saying that she was happy and wished to remain so. Stepping closer to Holmes, I grasped his shoulder and shook him slightly. "Holmes?" I said. "Holmes! It's time to go home. I know Kaelyn will be overjoyed to see you."

Holmes blinked once and nodded to me before sweeping out of the room and out of the house. We crossed the street and slipped into our old Baker Street lodgings. As we climbed the stairs towards the living room, we could hear Kaelyn yelling about the broken window. "…after midnight! What fools are playing with air rifles in the middle of a street this late at night? And what is this wax model of my father doing here? Is this someone's idea of a joke?"

"No, miss," I heard Mrs. Hudson sooth. "You're Uncle Mycroft had it made as a present for you."

"Well, it's ruined thanks to those hooligans!" I hurriedly knocked on the door to put a stop to her rant. "Who on earth could that be? You don't think Derek was here when the shot was fired, do you? I hope he wasn't; he always worries so." Mrs. Hudson opened the door, and I quickly entered the room alone for the moment. Kaelyn was standing by the window in her nightdress with a robe tied tightly over it. She looked surprised when she saw who it was but hurried over to bestow a hug before beginning to speak again. "Oh, Uncle John: what a surprise. What is it that has brought you here at this late hour?"

"Well my dear, I received a visitor who very much wanted to see you and said that they could not wait until the morning."

"Who?" Kaelyn asked confused.

I turned and gestured towards the door as Holmes stepped over the threshold. For a moment, no one moved or said a word. Kaelyn stood as though petrified, staring wide-eyed at Holmes. "Your father," I finally said with a smile.

Kaelyn took several small steps forward. "My father?" she said breathlessly. She sank down on the couch and shook her head. "I must be dreaming, or else I've gone insane. My father died at Reichenbach Falls three years ago; you said so yourself, Uncle John! How dare you bring a man here to pretend and crush my broken heart all the more?"

"He is no actor, child," I said soothingly. "I was wrong about what I saw that day. Your father survived that confrontation with Moriarty. He really is here, Kaelyn."

"No…no, no, no he can't be!" she said, her shoulders and words shaking with sobs.

"Kaelyn…" Holmes whispered, moving past me to sit beside her on the couch.

She looked up at him with shimmering eyes that begged for this to not be a lie. "Please…" she whimpered. "Please prove to me that you really and truly are my father!"

Holmes reached into his coat pocket and pulled something: her old doll. He gently placed it in her hands. "I've brought it back to you…just as I promised."

Kaelyn looked at the doll in her hands and burst into tears before throwing her arms around the man sitting beside her. "It is you!" she screamed with joy. "Oh Father…"

He pulled her close and held her tightly as though neither wished for the moment to ever end. I stood off to the side with Mrs. Hudson, beaming at the sight before us. When they finally pulled apart, Kaelyn ran her hands all over Holmes' shoulders, face, and arms as though proving to herself beyond all doubt that he really was sitting beside her.

"Where have you been? How did you survive? Why didn't you tell me you were alright before now?"

"Shhhh…" Holmes soothed, smoothing her hair away from her face. "There will be plenty of time to answer all your questions tomorrow, but right now-"

"Father…" she interrupted. "What is troubling you? I see pain in your eyes when you look at me…what is it?"

Holmes sighed and beckoned me to sit down in a nearby chair. "You may stay as well, Mrs. Hudson, for you, too, have been involved closely with the situation. My dear," he said, returning his gaze to Kaelyn. "I know that you once told me to look no further into the truth of your past. Allow me to say that I did not intentionally search for the information I am about to divulge. I came across it quite by accident while investigating Moriarty's gang." He took a deep breath and began. "I was looking into the link given to me by your mother all those years ago as it was one of the few I had. Knowing that her married name was Moran, I asked all I spoke to if the name sounded familiar to them. One man said that he remembered hearing of a Colonel Moran that had recently joined the gang because he needed the money. Moriarty had moved him quickly through the ranks due to his skill with strange weapons. The more I delved into the story, the more I learned about the man you once called your father. He had grown quite close to Moriarty: close enough to discuss his family. It is because of this that Moriarty became alerted to the whereabouts of your mother and your existence. I thought that Moriarty had only killed your mother because she came to me with information, but I was wrong. When I met him at the Reichenbach Falls and asked him for a few moments to write farewell notes to my colleague and daughter, he laughed at me. 'Your daughter?' he said. 'She is no more your daughter than she is Moran's. You have long wondered why he hated her so near the end; well, it is because he learned of his wife's lie. You see, Mr. Holmes, she had been with me before him.'" Kaelyn had begun shaking her head again, and I found myself unable to breathe. "'You think her gifts are mere chance, but you are mistaken. That girl that you call your daughter is really my daughter, Mr. Holmes. So now you may die knowing that although I am gone and my associates arrested, there is still a remnant of me living in London that you cannot destroy.' I refused to believe what he said was true: perhaps the first time in my career I allowed my emotions to take over. However, in the intervening three years, I looked into his claims and unfortunately discovered them to be true. Your mother was once with Moriarty, but she left him before she knew she was pregnant with you. She married the Colonel and managed to convince herself that the child was his until Moriarty came back into the picture, and she could no longer deny it."

Kaelyn swallowed several times before finding her voice again. "If this is true…why didn't Moriarty try to kill me long ago?"

"When Watson and I left London, I believe Moriarty set someone to follow you with orders to kill you if he did not return to England."

She nodded slowly. "There was a man…Derek caught him the day before Uncle John came home. Derek and his father were leaving when Derek leapt into the bushes and came back out with a strange man by the collar. Of course, they arrested him because he had a gun, but it all makes more sense now. So…my real father is Professor James Moriarty: the Napoleon of Crime…" she whispered.

Holmes turned away from her, Mrs. Hudson stifled her tears, and I buried my face in my hands for a moment. No wonder Holmes had been so distraught at Moran's parting words. I could not believe that our sweet, kind Kaelyn had been sired by that horrible man.

"Father…" Kaelyn began again, and Holmes turned to face her with a look of apprehension on his face. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

"I'm sorry because I am a constant reminder of the most evil man to walk the streets of London. If it were my choice, I would still tell the world that I am your daughter, but I understand if you no longer wish me to do so."

Holmes seized her hands and fixed her with a piercing stare. "I care not what blood it is that runs through your veins! You are the only person in the world that could ever touch that piece of my heart I thought I had eliminated forever. Your name is Kaelyn Holmes; you will always be my daughter, and I will always love you as such!" He cupped her cheek gently and smoothed away the tears that had begun to fall from her eyes.

"I love you too, Father!" Kaelyn cried and threw herself into his arms for the second time that night.

They remained that way for a long time, and I looked on with a broad smile. From that moment on, I knew, no matter what the years would throw at them, these two had a bond that none could ever break or hope to match.

Lily S. Brett: You were my first review ever, so thank you so very much for that! Thank you for the compliment also; I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

TennisQueen12: I'm glad you enjoyed the earlier chapters. Thank you very much for the compliments; it means a lot to me, especially that you think this is a decent Holmes story. I really appreciate your opinions, and I hope I didn't let you down with this chapter :)

Due to several requests, I have decided to write more about Kaelyn and some of the cases she played a part in. However, I don't want to put them with this story so they will be published under the title "The Casebook of Kaelyn Holmes". The stories that I use are either based on the original stories or films with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce (my personal favorites and the Holmes and Watson my characters are based on). After I finish with those stories, I will publish the final chapter of this story. I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been trying to plan it all out before I write it, and some of them take more time than others. While I finish the first part, here's a list of the stories I plan on using. What do you think?

Dressed to Kill (film)

The House of Fear (film but based on The Five Orange Pips)

The Hound of the Baskervilles (film and book)

The Woman in Green (film)

The Dying Detective (book)