The Start and End

"Well, if this doesn't feel like déjà vu, I don't know what is," Lestrade greeted Amelia with these exact words as she entered the large library, finding the Detective Inspector turning around to face her, peering at her with a half-smile.

Amelia glanced at the body lying sprawled across the floor on a very old, expensive Persian rug, and found that she could see just what he meant. She almost laughed, red painted lips lifting into a small knowing smirk as she regarded the body decked out in a rather lurid bright orange pant suit, while a pair of matching heels remained still on the dead woman's pale feet. It was a very similar scene to the Jennifer Wilson murder, 'The Study in Pink,' as John had dubbed it on his blog, only the setting for this murder was far more elaborate then a partly abandoned house in the middle of renovations.

The building today was an old men's club that had found it's self in the news in more recent months for its exclusivity and linking to a very high profile divorce that was being processed through the courts. Amelia was rather surprised that she had even been allowed to enter the building when she had arrived, but the fact that she was accompanying the police would have made it rather difficult to refuse her, never mind the fact that she would have scoffed and simply pushed her way inside, anyway. She was here to do a job, after all, not mingle. She had to admit, though, for a gentlemen's club it wasn't quite as seedy as some of the other clubs she had been in, this one looked rather like the sort of place Mycroft Holmes would have frequented…if her brother-in-law didn't already have his own stuffy club The walls of the room were panelled in dark stained wooden panels, while large windows looking out over the street below allowed amazing lighting to fill the space. Leather chairs dotted the room, while book cases loaded with very old books lined the walls, an empty fireplace as a focal point in the room with its large black marble mantle.

And right in the middle of the room, where one might have expected a coffee table and a couple of couches to sit, perhaps, was the body of their murder victim. The lurid orange of her clothing was vastly different from the rest of the space, while once neatly pinned and sprayed hair fell around the woman's face, obscuring her features from view. Amelia immediately noted that the woman's hair was dyed sandy blonde, dark brown roots visible at the nape of her exposed neck.

"You're even dressed similar," Lestrade commented with a quirk to his eyebrows, still examining Amelia with vague amusement.

She dragged her gaze off the woman's body and cast a glance down at herself. Black velvet Louboutins, a just above the knee length A-line skirt, which was white with black detailing around the pockets and trim, while she wore a white jumper tucked into the skirt. A long tweed, grey coat covered her frame as a black tote handbag hung from her left hand. Her hair was coiled up on top of her head, showing off her pearl studs and the long pearl and gold necklace she wore. She did laugh very slightly at that, what were the chances? Sure, the style of dress was slightly different from the same one she had worn during the 'Study in Pink' case, but it was strikingly similar. She must be getting sentimental.

"Give or take a little more bling," she smirked at Lestrade, and lifted her left hand up so that her engagement and wedding ring glinted, as if Lestrade hadn't already seen them both plenty of times before. She still had to give Sherlock and Mary credit for picking them both out, the simple, single diamond ring on a gold band and matching wedding band with multiple finely cut tiny diamonds covering it perfectly.

"We're at a crime scene…" a voice sighed in exasperation from behind them, "We can't be comparing rings, Amelia".

Amelia grinned as she turned around to see John giving her a mock disapproving glare, shaking his head, even though he was smiling lightly. He joined them and Amelia playfully whacked his arm lightly.

"Judging by the victims outfit choice, I don't think she would have minded all that much that fashion was being discussed right now".

A stretch, maybe, but she was going to run with it.

"You need more girlfriends, Amelia," Lestrade shook his head, giving her a bemused look, as if he couldn't quite decide if he should be amused or not.

She pulled a slight face, "Don't I know it," she muttered, sparing John a sideways glance.

"Where is Sherlock?" John asked curiously, looking to her again.

"He was picking up the boys from nursery when we got the call. He should only be a little behind us".

"Speak of the Devil…" Lestrade cleared his throat slightly, eyebrows suddenly darting up high, almost into his hairline as he peered at something behind them. A frown curved at his brow, then.

Amelia frowned slightly at him and his odd reaction, only to turn around on her heel and blink, startled, because it was not every day that one witnessed a slightly harassed and inpatient looking Sherlock Holmes come swiftly walking through a set of handsome double doors, pushing a twin baby pram ahead of him, while two large bags were slung over the wide handlebars of the pram, swinging slightly at his pace. Two infants sat in the seats of the pram, dressed in matching overalls, one in a dark blue set with a white striped shirt beneath it, while the other wore a forest green set of overalls with blue stripped shirt beneath it. Both boys seemed to be taking in the new room and vaguely familiar people with curious eyes, one with light blue eyes and the other with dark brown. Eye colour aside, there was no mistaking the Holmes curls, both of them being lucky enough to have a full mop of dark brown curls that fell over their little foreheads.

"Mama! Mama!"

The delighted shout was almost instantly followed by both boys reaching out towards Amelia, while Sherlock slowed his pace, until he brought the pram to a stop right between John and a rather bewildered looking Lestrade. Sherlock gave Amelia a flat look, his own curls looking slightly wild and the same slightly harassed scowl in place.

"Melissa is sick," he informed her without even saying 'Hello'.

"Oh," Amelia's expression fell slightly at that news…Melissa had become quite a regular in their lives since the twins were three months old, and Amelia had decided it was time to get back to work. She was an older lady, with twenty years experience in childcare and Nanning, and while they hadn't hired her as their nanny, (Amelia didn't like the idea of having a full-time nanny), she was usually very reliable and free to take the boys whenever a case should come up, regardless of day or time. She also happened to be able to put up with Sherlock's antics with barely a bat of an eye, which was a massive plus for them all.

"Sherlock," Lestrade grimaced slightly, "You can't bring kids to a crime scene, for God's sake. We've been over this…"

"Would you prefer me to leave them in a taxi outside, Lestrade?" Sherlock cut across him with a slightly annoyed scowl, clearly not in the mood presently to be lectured, "Or maybe the street would be more acceptable?"

"Now, you know that's not what I meant…"

"Let's not bicker about it in front of the kids," John swiftly cut in, briefly closing his eyes in exasperation. He shot Sherlock a slightly wary glance, before glancing at Amelia.

They shared a look…Sherlock was good with the boys, brilliant, attentive, even. But two one and a half year olds was hard for anyone to manage, let alone Sherlock when he was trying to get to a crime scene, and knowing the boys, Amelia suspected that they probably had been rather challenging to deal with at pick-up. She found them hard, at times, to deal with trying to get both boys fastened into their seats. Usually, she would just walk them back home in the pram, if it was a nice day, and by the time they got home they would be asleep, but evidently today had not been quite as calm and Sherlock was likely impatiently trying to get the boys taken care of so he could get to work. Kids could pick up on being rushed and a Holmes child was even more perspective.

"Guess we're running a bloody day-care now…." Donovan scoffed from a few feet away, observing everything with open disgust and disapproval.

Amelia shot her a dark look, "Don't you have a married man to be seducing, Sergeant?" she arched her eyebrows, mock innocently, "How about you focus on your affairs, while I deal with my own," she didn't wait to see how the other woman responded, plastering a large, bright grin on her face and moving to duck down slightly so that she was closer to eye level with her boys. She reached out and took them by her hands, their tiny hands gripping her as they smiled toothily at her, even the more serious out of the two, William, Will for short, lit up like a Christmas tree at her attention, "My boys!" she cooed, making a fuss of pressing a large kiss to each of their hands, careful to not actually rub her lipstick onto their delicate skin, "Mama is so, so happy to see you! Did you have a nice day?"

"Painted!" Jonny told her excitedly, dark brown eyes glowing with pride.

She almost laughed…yes, she had noted a little bit of paint staining his hands, faint as it was, there was some stuck beneath his fingernails.

"Sticker," Will added brightly, and puffed out his tiny chest to show off the monkey sticker that he had stuck to the front of his overalls.

"Me too!" his brother, never one to be left out of anything, also eagerly nodded, puffing out his own chest to show off his own sticker, this one of a lion.

"Oh, how handsome they look, too!" Amelia assured them, very seriously, while trying hard not to laugh.

"Amelia," Sherlock said softly, if a little pointedly. Her gaze flickered up from the twins to find Sherlock giving her an almost apologetic look, before his gaze darted pointedly over to where their murder victim still laid…

Amelia winced. Damn, professionalism really had taken a hit the second her boys had come through the room, maybe even a little before that, truth be told. If they were back home at Baker Street right now, she probably would have been on the couch snuggling with the twins, cooing over how lovely their stickers looked and how amazing their days artworks were. Sadly, today was not a typical day for them and, while she really hated the idea of the boys having to be in the same room as a dead body, at least neither of them would understand or remember any of this. That was a comforting thought.

"Right," she cleared her throat, feeling the eyes of the room around her judging her…well, most of them, Lestrade looked as if he still didn't know how this had all happened, while John looked caught between sympathy and amusement, and Sherlock simply looked impatient, but indulging. Amelia focused her attention back on the twins, "Darlings, Mama and Dada have got a little work to do, so we're going to need to be really, really quiet. And if you're really, really good, maybe we can have ice cream…" blue and brown eyes brightened instantly, and she smiled slyly, "…deal?"

Eagerly, they nodded in agreement and Amelia sighed in relief, if only internally. She might have just bought them three minutes of silence, before one of them started getting bored and wanting to get out to run around and explore, but it was something. She straightened, Sherlock moving around the back of the pram to take her elbow to help her rise without wobbling on her heels, the pair exchanging a brief glance as they swiftly turned and headed closer to their murder victim. Lestrade and John wisely seemed to catch on to the limited time that they had and followed, standing back a few steps to watch as the detectives began examining the scene.

The crime scene present before them was very cut and dry, Amelia noted, standing still and simply casting her gaze over the prone form. The woman was of average height and weight, her clothing, while quite the statement when it came as a colour, were of average quality. The shoes were cheap, but new and there was signs that they had rubbed against the woman's heels, leading her to stick silicone shields in them to try and save herself some pain. Amelia looked a little closer…she would be willing to bet that the woman before them probably hadn't been that interested in heels, after all. Amelia carefully crouched down by the woman's head, knees pressed together and balancing carefully on her toes. The woman's nails were freshly manicured, but it was cheaply done and there was already a small chip in the left index finger. No rings, only a pair of earrings and they were costume pieces. The hair had been styled, though it had fallen free from the updo at some point. There was no obvious signs of a struggle…

"Poison?" Sherlock seemed to almost read her mind, his gaze already on Amelia. He crouched carefully on the other side of the woman's body, eyes sharp and calculating.

"There's no indication of a struggle," Amelia nodded slowly, briefly pursing her lips.

"John," he said as he returned his focus to the woman, "Your opinion, please".

John came forward and Amelia shifted aside to allow him to start his examination. The doctor made thorough, but quick work of it, frowning slightly to himself as he began by looking at the victims face. He checked her mouth and leant down, almost seeming to smell her mouth, before he sat up and began checking her hands, looking closely at the fingernails.

"Hard to say if it was poison or not," he said after a brief pause, still conducting his examination, "No vomit, no blood or visible bruising…" he shook his head slowly, looking up to them, "I think we won't know for sure how she died until the bloods come back".

"What was she doing here, anyway?" Lestrade spoke up, watching them with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning deeply, "This is a men's club, they don't even let female staff work here".

Amelia scoffed slightly, throwing him a knowing look, "Oh, I'm positive that some female staff are allowed in here," she said lightly, if a little darkly, "Though, none that are probably on any official books".

"What are you thinking?" he eyed her curiously, a spark of hopefulness in his eyes.

"She's obviously a call-girl, Lestrade," Sherlock rolled his eyes, his tone flat. He moved to stand from his crouch and John, giving him a slightly surprised glance, also rose. The curly haired man pinned Lestrade with a cool, calculating glare, "You only need to look at the cheap clothing and lurid hue to figure that one out, never mind the fact that this is a exclusive men's club," he scoffed, "They're hardly going to just let some random woman walk about the place and she's clearly not married to any members".

"What does the orange suit have to do with anything?"

"It's eye catching," Amelia said with a small shrug, "London is full of prostitute to pick from, I imagine some feel that a certain edge to make themselves more physical memorable will help them. Plus, not all call-girls get around in leather miniskirts and halter tops, some try to dress more for the clientele they're trying to attract".

Lestrade sighed slightly, frowning as he regarded the woman on the floor before them. Amelia moved to stand, absently smoothing her skirt down over her legs as she rose, gazing grimly down at the body before them. It was likely an open and shut case, but she had to admit that if she got to draw to light how sexist these men's clubs were, especially in this day and age, she would be all for getting involved in the case. Clubs like this were just so old fashioned and sleazy, even if they made themselves look pretty with the Persian rugs and dinner jackets and central Westminster location. It was the twenty first century; surely they had moved passed gender sectional clubs now?

"Look," Lestrade said softly, then, lowering his voice as he looked at the three of them seriously, "Whatever you can give me, give it to me as fast as I can. I'm not supposed to say this but...I know for a fact that at least half of the London Met are members of this joint..." Sherlock, Amelia, and John exchanged a look, while he briefly closed his eyes, almost looking pleading, "There's some pretty powerful people who are gonna have their eyes on this case, got it? So, whatever you have to do to solve this thing, do it, but for God's sake make it discreet, okay?"

Amelia smirked...she could see Sherlock's eyes glinting, while John smiled faintly and glanced down, all three of them suddenly buzzing with near excitement. This suddenly open and shut case became a whole lot more interesting with that little nugget of information, after all, possibly corrupt cops? Who didn't love that being a possible lead in an investigation? It certainly made Amelia's blood rush a little harder.

"Understood, Lestrade," Sherlock said with a knowing glint in his eyes, lips curved upwards, "We're on it".

He glanced at Amelia, who grinned and moved to grab the handlebar of the pusher, pushing it ahead of herself as Sherlock and John fell into step with her, heading out of the door. The game was afoot; after all, they had a murder to solve, and Mary's final words ringing in their ears as they set out into the world, ready to do whatever they needed to do, whatever they had to do, for the sake of keeping London a little safer. For the sake of their loved ones, the sake of each other.

"I know you three, and if I'm really gone, I know what you could become...because I know who you really are. A junkie who solves crimes to get high, a doctor who never came back from the war, and a sister who spent her life running from her brother until she couldn't anymore. Well, you listen to me, who you are, it doesn't matter. It's all about the legend, the stories, the adventures. There is last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted. There is a final court of appeal for everyone. When life gets too strange, too impossible, too frightening, there is always one last hope...when all else fails...there are two men and a woman sitting arguing in a scruffy flat, like they've always been there, and they always will. The best and the wisest three people I have ever known. My Baker Street boys and girl. Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson, and Amelia Wilson".

I'm not crying, I am not crying...damn it! I am crying and smiling and kind of laughing, because this has been a wild, beautiful ride. I have loved writing Amelia's story with Sherlock and John, and I always desperately wanted to bring a sense of friendship and love to this series, and I so hope I managed to do that, because I feel like at its core, Sherlock BBC was all about love and friendship, and how special that is and can be, how important it is. And Amelia was all about love and friendship, she started off as a truly lonely character, with only Lestrade and Molly as her two friends in this world, then suddenly she has an entire family, basically, and I've loved exploring that. I've loved exploring how a character like Sherlock might fall in love, if it was even possible, how it might have looked and felt, and I've loved that journey so much.

I've tried to keep this ending very open ended, so that if, one day, we get another season I can pick it up again and keep writing, but I also did want to give it a final that felt like a goodbye, and what other way to do that then to give them a murder to solve? Goodbye, Amelia, Sherlock, and John, I adore you and I already miss you, and even though it's not totally goodbye, since I'll still visit you in my one-shots story, it feels like I am saying goodbye.

I am legit crying right now, I haven't cried this hard over anything I've written before; I don't really know how to handle it. Just...thank you for coming on this journey, thank you for reading, thank you for hopefully enjoying it. Thank you.

Final series word count (No yet including edited chapters or one-shots): 746,579

Total chapter count, excluding one-shots: 81

Total favourite count, as of this final chapter, excluding one-shot series: 764

Total alert count, as of this final chapter, excluding one-shot series: 673

Series started: November 7th, 2012-November 11th, 2023. Eleven years in total.

(Started and finished in November! A happy chance, even if the Universe isn't so lazy...)

My dear, long suffering and amazingly patient readers…we have officially concluded this story. Of course, the one-shots will remain and continue, there is still so much I want to share with you guys that I didn't get to explore in the main stories, but we've reached the end of the larger journey. I feel really quite emotional writing this and I simply cannot thank you all more, truly. I wrote this story for myself, because I simply couldn't find the Sherlock/OC story that I was wanting to find, so it's kind of wild to me that there are other people out there who, seemingly, might have also been seeking the same sort of story.

I was only 13 when this series began and I still remember being stuck at home, my not yet diagnosed chronic fatigue, once again, making me miserable and this series helped distract me. Amelia Wilson was a character who was born during a time in my own life where I was just starting to learn about writing. She was the second OC I have ever created and she holds such a dear, special place in my heart. She is possibly also one of the most similar OC's to me that I have created. Her love for fashion and sense of humour is very similar to my own. Perhaps that's why she was always such a joy to write for and I will miss her more then I think I even know yet for that reason.

I'm also going to really miss writing the relationship between her and Sherlock and John. It really was such a delight to write for their unique dynamic, and I learnt so much from writing Amelia and Sherlock's love story. It taught me to take things slowly in my writing, allow the natural progression of relationships to take shape and to listen to the characters. I know that sounds mental, but it's true and very accurate, and I have given this advice to other people who have reached out to me about writing for an OC. Amelia helped teach me this and I'll take that with me with all of my future projects.

So…I guess this is where I should wrap up everything, before I ramble on forever more. Truly, to all those who reached this point, thank you. What more can I say then that? I'm not yet sure what my next journey will be, I have several OC's who are ready to be released into the world, but I've yet to decide. I have a poll on my profile, if you're interested.

Thank you, everyone.