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

Chapter 20; Critical

She sent daggers to the women, but slight paranoia remained in the back of her mind.

“Hello…Irene.” Winter said through gritted teeth.

“You never told me Irene was your mom!” Charlie said.

“She’s not. But she knew I wouldn’t come if you had told me Irene was here. Although, ive been expecting you for some time, Mrs. Adler. Sherlock isn’t the only one who can since your presents.” Winter said.

Winter brushed a piece of hair from her face, and sighed. She had known since just after Moriarty’s trial that Irene was coming. And it had been driving her insane, not knowing when. She knew Irene was after one thing, and that was Sherlock.

“Hello, Winter. My, its been a while.” Irene said.

“Not long enough, I’m afraid.” Winter muttered, Irene laughed.

“Oh Winter, you haven’t changed a bit have you? Well, I’m not here to go after Sherlock, at least not yet. I Just came to warn you, and to get my SIMs card.” She said.

Winter laughed, and handed the card to Irene. She wasn’t in any mood to fight.

“And what warning do you bring, Mrs Adler?” Winter asked.

“A war is coming my Winter. And if your not careful, blood might even be shed. But you may not be able to help it, anyway. Just keep that heart of yours from caring to much. But who knows, when the fog is cleared, you may be very useful to me.” Irene said, before she left.

Winter sighed, and began to shed her coat, hanging it on the hanger. She was glad Irene was gone, but she couldn’t shake Charlie’s wide eyed stare.

“You just gave it to her? Just like that?” Charlie said.

“Relax. I let Mycroft take what he needed before I wiped it clean.” Winter said, sitting at her Piano.

“So, if she isn’t your mom, why did you come sprinting here within 5 minutes?” Charlie said.

“Ever heard the phrase ‘the word is mom’? Well, it literally was in this case.” Winter said, writing on her sheet music.

“So, remember when I said that I could get you a gig? Well, the coffee shop on the conor of the square wants you to play tomorrow night!” Charlie said.

“Well, that’s great. Molly and Tom coming?” Winter asked, not looking up at her friend.

“You know, you’ve been sitting there every night, for hours, not moving. You better have something pretty amazing for tomorrow. But yes, there coming. In fact where is Molly?” Charlie asked.

“Probably at the hospital, Sherlock probably needed the lab.” Winter said.

“Right…Winter, are you sure your okay?” Charlie asked.

“Fine.” Winter said.

Truth was, Winter wasn’t okay. May things were bothering the young girl. To begin with, in a weeks time, was the day of her fathers death. Then, the coming week, she is to graduate UNI. She is suppose to go back to America, to begin a music/writing internship with her aunts company, but now she isn’t sure if that is what she wants.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll be at the lab.” Charlie said, before leaving.

Winter’s composure didn’t change, she was as she was left, froze, numb, heartless. All she wanted was to feel the warmth of Baker Street.

She wanted to cry out in agony,  but decided that it was better to not show her pain.

It was around midnight, when Uncle John had called Winter, telling her to get down to the Scotland Yard.

They had found the children.

Upon arrival, she was informed that she was to help Sherlock interview the childerne, because he could be…insensitive at times.

But things didn’t go as planned. As soon as Sherlock stepped into the room, the young girl began to scream in horror.

Lestrade pulled them out, and Winter glanced at Sally and Anderson, who both were smirking.

She knew what they were thinking, and she was disgusted.

Winter walked over and stood by Sherlock. She knew Sherlock had his faults, but he would never be able to set up a murder just so he could solve it.

It would bore him too much.

They all sat in Lestrade’s office, trying to figure things out. Until, Winter finally fell asleep, she was leaning on Sherlock’s shoulder, lightly snoring.

Sherlock chuckled, and picked the girl up. He carried her to a taxi, and then into Baker Street. He didn’t want to take her to Molly’s this late, it was pointless. Besides, he wanted to test something, or more specifically make sure he can think for long enough to be able to do anything.

Sherlock sat in his chair, after taking Winter to her old bedroom.

John sat across from him, a scowl crossed his features.

“She cares for you, y’know. I want you to be careful with her, Sherlock. She has been through to much.” John said suddenly.

“What? John, are you inferring that I return your niece’s infatuated feelings?” Sherlock asked, knowing John was heavily disapproving of their…whatever you want to call it.

“Don’t think. I know.” John said, disappointed.

“Oh, do you. And how is that John? Humor me.” Sherlock said.

“Because, you’ve only looked at one other person the way you look at my niece.” John said.

“Who is that?” Sherlock smirked.

“Irene Adler.”