What Lies Beneath (Sherlock (BBC) Fan-Fiction)**Under Heavy Rewrites**

Chapter 1; Dancing in London

The Beautiful cover was made by @CosmicMisfit! She is an amazing writer, and an awesome person, and a great friend so you all should go check out her stuff!

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What Lies Beneath the Surface

(P.O.V Winter Watson)

I stepped off the plane, and onto the solid ground of the London airport. Glad to be on flat ground, I quickly go to find my suitcase before heading off on the journey to find my uncle John.

Yes, John Watson is infact my uncle.

Currently I am in London for University, and my uncle said it was perfectly fine to stay with him, instead of those drafty old dorms.

As long as I didn't bother Sherlock.

I didn't see a reason as to why I would bother Sherlock, and neither did my uncle.

I was a rather quite, and shy person. I didn't like large crowds of people, because I was claustrophobic and I had anxiety. I can be socially awkward, but normally I can hold up a conversation, unless I just don't like that person.

I liked reading, writing, and music. Which are the things I'm studying at Uni.

Finally, I found uncle John, and when he seen me he smiled, and held out his arms, inviting me in for a hug. i hugged him, and smiled. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen uncle John, he looked so old and gray.

Uncle John held me out at arms lengths, with his hands on my shoulders.

"Look at you!" he stated, happily.

I giggled.

"Why your all grow up! I cant believe it. Did you do something to your hair? You look so different!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, uncle John. I am all grown up. I cant remember the last time I seen you, since mother sent me to school in America." I said.

I had indeed done something to my hair. I had died it black, changing it from my boring natural brown color. Everyone said It brought out my dark green eyes more. I just shrugged it off, really. There wasn't anything special about me. I had rather plain facial features, dark hair, and a height of about 5' 8. That's all.

Uncle John and I began to walk, chatting about al the things I seen in America.

We called for a taxi, and climbed inside. Uncle John told them the address.

221B Baker Street.

My new home, for a little while at least.

"So, uncle John. Tell me about this Sherlock fellow?" I asked.

Uncle John looked at me for a moment, then sighed.

"Sherlock, well, there isn't much to tell really. He's a...well he's a puzzle for sure. He considers himself the worlds only Consulting Detective, and he's crazy smart. He can read people in a snap, so don't be surprised when you walk through the door if he can tell you your life story. Oh, and he can be...rather straight forward, so don't be offended." Uncle John said, before turning towards the window.

Finally, we arrived at Uncle John's flat. We climbed out of the cab, and I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk. I followed Uncle John as he led the way up the stairs, and entered the first green door.

We walked in, and I looked a round.

The place was nice, a bit cluttered, but still really nice.

There was a man, a rather mysterious man, sitting in the black leather chair, with a violin.