"Is that him?" Sherlock asked, staring at the man "Major Sholto?"

"Yeah," Mary replied, "I didn't think he was going to come"

"That's James Sholto?" I asked quietly, holding my arms as I stood close by Sherlock's side.

Sherlock nodded, "Yes"

"He knew my Dad"

I noticed how Sherlock froze slightly, how his head snapped a fraction of an inch in my direction. He knew what that meant. "Oh?"

"They trained together, the last time I saw him I was three"

"You should go talk to him" Mary said enthusiastically.

"You don't have to" Sherlock quickly added, despite Mary's look of confusion, "Only talk to him if you want to, if you feel you're ready"

I nodded my head, wet my lips with my tongue before biting my lip. "I might never see him again; one chance in a lifetime"

"It's up to you" Sherlock rested his hand against the small of my back, rubbing it comfortingly.

"Once in a lifetime" I repeated, more to myself. I nodded, "I'm going to talk to him"

"It'll be fine"

I nodded, "Thank you" I took a deep breath and made my way across the hall to where John stood talking to the older major.

I stopped a few feet away, trying to calm myself down enough to move any closer. After a moment John spotted me, "Charlie" he greeted, reaching out his hand to take mine and guide me over to enter the conversation, "Sir, this is Charlie James, a good friend of mine, Charlie, this is-"

"Major James Sholto" I interrupted timidly, "We have met, but it was a very long time ago."

"Charlie James," he repeated, "Charlotte James, no, it can't be" he smiled "you were, what two?"

"Three, I believe, I can't really remember"

John looked back and forth between the two of us, "How... did you meet?"

"I had the privilege of knowing Charlotte's father, we trained alongside each other. He was a great man"

I smiled a little, "Thank you"

"I had no idea" John said, eyes widening.

"John, could we- do you mind if we have a moment, please?"

"Of course, of course, sure" He nodded, the surprise still showing on his face as he left us.

"So, how have you been?" Sholto asked.

"I... it's been tough, really tough actually. But things are coming round."

"I read that you were with this Sherlock Holmes, that must be a story - how did you meet?" he smiled kindly, obviously aware that I was becoming self conscious.

I laughed quietly, "Um, we met in rehab. Then we moved in together."

"Rehab?"

"... yeah. Just a lot of bad things happened, and I didn't deal with it well. I was okay for a while but... well I'm recovering."

He nodded understandingly, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but I always wondered what you spent the money on" At my father's funeral he'd spoke to me, I barely remembered, and he'd given me an envelope. I hadn't opened it for years, not until I was out of hospital. It was a letter talking about my Dad, and giving me encouragement for the future. Along with a blank check.

"I used it to put a deposit on the first flat I shared with Sherlock." I answered smiling at the memory.

"Thanks good."

"I... I wouldn't have been able to recover without that letter... It changed things, really... I know you wrote all about him, but, what was he like? What's the first thing you remember about him?"

"About your father" I nodded, "He was happy. And he always talked about you, and your mother. His favourite part of the day was last thing at night when he would phone you both. He would get you to say good night to the whole tent, and you always did. He wanted to help people, to do the best for everyone even if doing so wasn't pretty. I think you've turned out a lot like him. I'm sure he'd be proud of you."

I shook my head, "No, no, he couldn't. Not with everything I've done"

"And what about everything you've over come? That's more important. I'm sure John thinks so too, and no doubt Sherlock Holmes as well."

I smiled meekly, "Thank you Sir, for everything."

"It was my honour, after all your father did for me" he smiled, then looked over my shoulder, "I think you should return to Mr Holmes, he looks worried"

I glanced back, "Normally I'm not so comfortable to talk to strangers, he knows that"

"We're not strangers, not entirely."

"No, not entirely I suppose"

"You have a good friend in him, Charlotte, you can tell how much he cares for you"

I felt myself blushed, "He's... amazing, yeah. Life without him was horrible... But he's back now, and we're trying to get back to the way things were."

"Sometimes, the way they were has to stay in the past – if it seems to be going a different direction it's because it's supposed to, remember that, please"

"I will, thank you, I will"