Author's Note: Okay, the break was long, but I too have other stories and I study! So please forgive me.
Watson's POV
The first thing that caught my eyes was my friend grinning from one ear to another. The next thing had her tiny arms slung around one of his. She watched with wide eyes as she entered in his living room.
Mrs Hudson gasped when the dirty street child entered. "Mr Holmes," she started, "is this...". Holmes did not react to this but instead led the child to the couch. It took a seat and watched him curiously taking a seat in one of the armchairs.
"Watson, Mrs Hudson, it is my honor and my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Quinn Kelly, my daughter.", he stated, "Quinn, this is my dear friend Watson and my landlady, Mrs Hudson.".
We all gasped, the child, I and Mrs Hudson. Of course we knew about the child, suspected something, but hearing him say that was completely different to just know that there is some girl out in the streets. Today I think, Quinn was the most surprised of us. I suspect he did not tell her before and to hear that there is out of nothing some kind of family to one must have been a great shock for her.
No one of us moved for minutes, then I stood up and walked towards the girl. She for herself stood up too and we shook each others hand. "It is nice to finally meet you, Ms Kelly. Holmes worried a lot about you, and we too.", I shot a glance towards Holmes and Mrs Hudson. The girl just looked up to me, "Uhm, thank you? I-I think it is nice to meet you too, b-but this, this is just crazy. I just can't handle this yet, sorry.", she stammered.
Mrs Hudson came up to her, took her arm and led her towards my old room, "Come on, Dearie. We will get you something nice. You must be hungry. And tired. I will prepare dinner while you can dress yourself in one of my old dresses. Just until we can find you something right, tomorrow. See, this will be your room...", her voice faded and as the door closed Holmes and I burst out into laughter. Maybe poor Quinn was the daughter Mrs Hudson never had.
Almost twenty minutes later Mrs Hudson came out, hurried downstairs and hurried, packed with multiple pieces of clothes back up. Only to be out five seconds later.
As she was downstairs and you could hear her preparing what must be the richest dinner we ever had, a small, red haired head popped out of the door to my old room. She had been visibly cleaned and wore one of my old shirts.
"Who is going to tell her that I don't wear dresses?"