AN: This is my first Sherlock fanfiction and I really hope people enjoy this! I explained it to my friend Brianna 'criminalsandtea' (she is an amazing writer, everyone should check out her stuff!) and she said this was a really good plot so I've decided to post the story. Please review, I love constructive criticism and it makes me want to do better!

Rated M: For sexual content, violence, and strong suggestive language. (None of that is in the first chapter)

I hummed and tapped my finger against the railing of the seat on the tube. I just had got to London, well I was forced by my Mom, and I was still trying to figure out how to make my way to my Father's house. I was a mistake in their relationship; well my Father's words not my Mom's. She says I'm the light of her life, my Father barely knows I'm alive. He 'works' for British parliament but from what I have heard he practically runs it. Once I reached my stop I walked out onto the platform, being in London was almost as bad as living in Boston.

I groaned as people ran frantically around each other trying to catch their train in order to get where they need to be. I was dreading my destination; I did not want to be anywhere near my destination. I reached the outside world and I hailed a cab. I gave the man the address and he began to drive just as the rain began to pour on the streets. Everyone was so very prepared for the wet gloomy weather and all I brought was a light rain coat.

Once we arrived at the house I grabbed my bags from the trunk and ran to the door to hide from the fat rain drops beating down from the sky. I groaned and pulled off my hood, I reached up and knocked on the door. The house was huge; it resembled an old Victorian Mansion that was beautifully done. The door opened and a man was standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a black suit, had a posh demeanor, stood tall and confident, and everything about him was clean and sharp. Butler.

"I'm here to see Mr. Holmes." I said as simple as it could be put, he gave me a slight nod as to signal me to come inside. I walked inside and sat my bags near the door before he began to lead me through the house. My Father had almost no clue that I was coming but my Mom and he did have a conversation about me coming to stay with him. He was obviously completely against it saying he was too busy working to have anytime for a complicated teenager girl. I'm 22; I wouldn't classify myself as a teenage girl anymore.

"Mr. Holmes is in a meeting and he shall be with you shortly." The butler said and his accent was very thick almost making it difficult to understand what he was saying but his hand signals made his words easier to understand. I took a seat in a crimson chair with gold accents; everything in the house was also Victorian to go along with the exterior. I saw a picture of my Father hung up on the wall and it made me want to vomit.

I'm very grateful that I look nothing like that man, I got all my looks from my Mom. I have long blonde curly hair and bright green eyes; he is the complete opposite of that. Also I have a very small frame but by no means very skinny, I have a lot of curves in my figure. I looked sweet and I could be sweet but that isn't my real personality. I'm a catty bitch who is always arguing with people, most of the time this happens is because people are just stupid and they lower everyone's IQ when they speak.

The door opened and three men came out, a man with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, his nose was also kind of big. Then another man with longish brown hair with pale blue eyes that resembled that of a cat with long limbs that went on for days. Then my Father walked himself out of the room, Mycroft Holmes. What my Mother ever saw in him was beyond me. He was rude, arrogant, fat, and all around egotistical, you could just see it in the way he walks. Pretending to stand tall and having to focus on doing it because it doesn't come natural to him, he had powdered sugar on his tie which means he probably is a closet eater, and he kept his chin high so he could look down on other people even though he was beneath everyone else because of his short and squatty stature.

All three men noticed me immediately and it's like they stopped and stared like they hadn't seen a female before. "What are you doing here Autumn?" Mycroft said and with every single word his voice cracked even more than the last. This made me chuckle underneath my breath because he lost all focus causing him to crack.

I stood up slowly and stood tall trying to show my dominance over him because that's how I saw him. "My Mom and I thought it would be a good thing for me to spend time with my Father for some time. So I came to see you and I hope you don't mind." I said softly while looking him straight in the eye.

"Daughter?" The man with the cat eyes shouted in shock, I can tell by the way he carries himself that doesn't happen very often.

"Yes, did he not tell you or am I another one of your dirty little secrets?" I scowled at Mycroft. Why would I think that he had somewhat of a heart, which was very foolish of me.

"It was none of your business Sherlock and I felt like you didn't have to know about this part of my life. But Autumn you cannot show up like this, it's rude and inconsiderate." His voice was full of venom and all I did was role my eyes.

"You always have to be in everyone else's business but no one knows yours. You're an idiot." Sherlock said and it made me smile. He was very correct about him being an idiot, one of the biggest.

"Sherlock, stop. Everyone has their reasons for not telling everyone everything." The man with the blonde hair said, I'm guessing Sherlock's boyfriend.

"So where's my room?" I asked getting tired of being the presences of the man I call my Father.

"You don't have one; we never got a chance to prepare. If you would have told me you that you were coming I would have put a room together for you but on such short notice we don't have anything." Mycroft said and I could see it in his eyes that he didn't want to be anywhere near me. I didn't want to be anywhere near him either but I wouldn't just kick him out of my house that fast if he didn't have anywhere to go.

"She can stay with us," The man with blonde hair said, "My name is John, John Watson. It's very nice to meet you." He extended his hand this was the first sign of kindness I have received the whole time I have been in London.

"Yes she can." Sherlock said repeating John's words. I smiled softly at them and we all left Mycroft in the dust, John grabbed my bags on the way out the door. Sherlock and I got into the cab and then John closely followed. I sat facing the two of them and at first it was a bit awkward until John broke the ice.

"You're not from London and I assume you are from America, which part?" He asked trying to get to know me. Sherlock didn't ask any questions but he was listening closely for my answers.

"I'm from Boston but I moved around a lot when I was younger." I said softly, I was never much of a talker when it came to new people.

"Thank you so much for letting me stay with you but I don't want to intrude, I'll find a hotel to stay at or something." I said and Sherlock shook his head.

"It doesn't matter, we have enough space and John can sleep on the couch since he was the one who offered." Sherlock quipped at John even though he was talking to me. They were totally a couple; you could tell by the way they balanced each other out.

"Thank you so much, I promise I won't stay long! I don't want to extend my stay for too long." I said while laughing nervously, I was staying with people I didn't even know but Sherlock was my uncle and I could deduce that he wasn't a bad person or had bad intentions.

I left the night to go out by myself for dinner; I thought it would be a great idea to get used to the city. I stumbled upon a French restaurant that was beautiful. Everything looked so authentic and you could smell the fresh baked bread from the outside. My nose was immediately drawn to it, I sat at the bar and I looked over the menu. At 9:30 at night the only my body was craving was soup and some of their fresh baked bread.

I ordered the tomato soup and a wheat roll to go along with it. I sat at the counter playing with my phone trying to drowned out every other form of life, socializing in public places was not my strong suit. I always made a fool of myself by saying or doing something completely stupid. I was snapped out of my own little world when my food came, the soup was a bright red and it smelled delicious.

Before I was able to enjoy even one bite a man sat down next to me. The restaurant was almost completely empty but he chooses to take the chair next to mine. "I love this place, everything smells and tastes so good." He said and his Irish accent was thick.

He had dark shortish hair that you would just want to play with, eyes so dark and cunning that the color was nonexistent, you could see by the way he was relaxed in his chair that he thought he had complete control over the situation and it made him seem very egotistical. "I'm Jim, and who are you?" He asked looking deep into my eyes and I looked back into his. When I did it sent chills down my spine, there was just something about him that I couldn't understand. Something I should have understood from the beginning.