John's P.O.V.
Angela and I had just barely escaped from the thugs chasing us through the abandoned factory Sherlock had send us to. I was surprised how brave and enduring this girl just was, and would have started a conversation about her military skills, but I was so out of breath that I didn't get around to it, until we arrived back at 221B Bakerstreet. And there, Sherlock bombarded us with news of his own: "I got back the results from Molly, and I found you out!", he hollered, when Angela walked into the flats living room behind me. He stepped close to her and said in an aggressive tone: "You can't be my daughter! I don't know, who or what you are, but one thing is for sure: you can't be my child AND John's at the same time! So, what are you? And what do you really want from me?"
I guess I looked just as shocked as Angela, and I was the first to find my speech again: "Whoa, wait, what? Sherlock, what are you talking about?" "I took the liberty of sending Molly another hair-sample and some of your DNA as comparison, and low and behold, they match up perfectly, just like mine did, so there has to be something fishy here! I knew, I've never been intimate with any woman, no matter how high I might have been!", he spat immediately, never taking his eyes of the girl. "Wha... Hey, what kind of sample did you take from me?”, I stuttered angry, "Is that why I couldn't find my toothbrush anymore?", but Sherlock ignored me as usual, still fixating Angela. Then something happened, that I didn't expect: she started crying! And then she said: "I should have anticipated this... I never could lie to you! You would always read me like an open book. Daddy used to joke about it..." And she gave me a sad and longing look.
Sherlock still wasn't impressed. So, Angela sighed, wiped over her eyes and took a step backwards, to roll up her left sleeve. I came closer, puzzled, and my friend seemed a little surprised too, but still hardly blinked, not letting her out of his sight. Then something really freaky happened: pressing at her wrist with her index finger, pinky, and thumb, she presented us with a hologram, covering about 2 by 4 inches of her lower arm! It looked a bit like a cellphone screen, and she started touching parts of it with her index finger, as though browsing through files in a computer.
Then she looked at both Sherlock and me, and said: "You don't have to be afraid, but you'll never believe a word, if you don't hear it for yourself! Hold on to one of my fingers and try to listen. It works best, when you use the tips of your thumb, index and middle finger to hold one of the tips." She showed us, by holding her left pinky that way. Confused but curious, both me and Sherlock grabbed one of her fingers. She swiped over her wrist before holding on to her pinky again, and I had the sudden sensation of hearing someone speak. It sounded like Sherlock's voice, muffled and creaky, but most of all: it seemed to come from inside my head! I was shocked and could tell, Sherlock felt similar, but then I tried to listen closer.
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".... recording? Are you? Good, good, look.... you have to go back, you have to find out, when it started!" Suddenly the voice changed to Angela's, but her mouth was closed: "I don't want to leave you! Please, let me help, we'll carry you..." And then my own voice joined in: "No dear, let me handle this, I know..." Sherlock's voice again: "Exactly! Listen to John, he knows what to do! So, I want you to go back, and find us! Remember that house we showed you once? The one where we used to live before you were born?" Angela's voice: "Yes the, the Bakerstreet? 22B..." Sherlock's voice interrupted: "No, 221B! 221B Bakerstreet! And John worked at the Saint Bart's Hospital! Don't trust anyone but us! And perhaps uncle Greg and aunt Molly. Remember, her last name used to be Hooper!"
Angela's pleaded: "But why? Why... why can't I just go back to yesterday, or the day before?" Sherlock's again, in a firm tone: "Because all this started a long time ago! I'm not sure when, but it might well have been before John and I got married. Maybe even before Moriarty died! Please dear, you have to promise me..." Then there was something like a muffled scream, someone crying and loud crashing noises, before Sherlock's voice returned: "Find out what you can... search for anything concerning Ibson, or the mercury flower... Don't look back Angel! I'm so proud of you!" More crying and then my voice, that sounded like I was kissing someone: "Mmma, take care Rosie! Go, I'll stay with your dad. GO! I KNOW WHAT TO DO, LEAVE!"
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Then the sound stopped. Angela eyes still shimmered, as she pulled back her hand and shut off the hologram with one touch. Me and Sherlock stared at her with wide eyes. I couldn't understand, what I had just heard, and so asked: "What was that? What just happened?" She looked from me to the blinking Sherlock and said: "I'll explain it to you. But you might want to sit down first." So we moved over to the kitchen table. Angela sat down in my usual chair, so I took the one opposite her. Sherlock, after some hesitation, sat in the chair between us, so that we were gathered around the table like a group getting ready to play cards.
'Or like a family at dinnertime.', I thought to myself, when Angela began to explain: "I lied about being a journalist. I'm a teacher at a public school, and my classes are modern history and healthcare 1, which is just a fancy term for sports to be honest. And there is no big scandal involving Scotland Yard and the Mafia... at least not that I know. I just needed something as a door opener to get your attention. I knew claiming to be your daughter wouldn't suffice, at least not until I could prove it." She stopped and looked at both of us, but Sherlock remained silent. She continued: "But that is true! I really am your daughter. To the both of you..."
She looked at me with pleading eyes again, but I had to laugh: "Now hold on, that can't possibly be right! And unless Harry suddenly switched teams and got Sherlock incredibly drunk, I don't think there could ever be a kid with both our family traits!" But Sherlock surprised me: "If you didn't manipulate the tests, then there must be another explanation. I read that science is testing the possibility of merging the DNA of two men by inserting them into a donor egg that has been rid of it's original DNA and then inserting it into a surrogate mother. Is that what happened?" I looked at him with big eyes and insisted: "Look Sherlock, even if that's possible, Angela is already well over 20, and I don't think anyone could have done something like that when we were only teenagers!" But Angela objected: "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. Okay, for starts, my real name is Rosalind-Angela Holmes-Watson. You two could never agree on a name, so I got both. And my birthday is October first... 2029!"
Now I really had to laugh, it was just too fantastic: "Buh... but that's thirteen years from now! Are you saying, you're from the future?" But Sherlock nudged me and with a frown stated: "Come on John, she just showed us her hologram and some kind of in-head-radio, that's technology that even Mycroft's people can't get hold of yet, and I'm surely not a candidate for hypnosis, so she must be telling the truth!" I couldn't fathom how he could stay so calm given the situation, but he just returned to facing Angela and demanded: "Go on." She took a deep breath and continued: "Well, both of you raised me with lots of love, and kindness, and adventure, and chaos... we lived in Switzerland until I was seven years old, then we traveled for a bit, until we returned to London when I was nine. That's when you first told me, how I was conceived... because it did cause quite a stir back then, and you didn't want me to find out at school."
I still wasn't convinced and interrupted her: "Hold on, hold on, what... are you telling me, you are our daughter? Mine AND Sherlock's? And we... what? Why would we ever..." I was lost for words and looked over to Sherlock, who STILL didn't seem impressed. Angela reached over the table to touch my hand. She gave me an apologetic smile, then stated matter-of-fact: "Because you fell in love. And if I'm not mistaken, you already should be. You yourself used to tell me, how you started to care for Mom from the first day you met. And how you came to terms with your feelings over time. But it was Mom, who came out to you first, somewhat pushing you into the relationship." "Hold on!", now Sherlock did object, and I thought he would talk about Angela's claim of us being a couple, but he just asked: "Why am I Mom?"
Angela answered with a grin: "Yeah, well... actually, when I was little I called you Dad and John Daddy! But then you told me about how I was made. It was like you said, a donor egg, implanted with both your DNA. But you didn't have a surrogate. Although aunt Molly offered to have me, but you,", she looked at Sherlock, "you said you didn't want anyone else to carry your lovechild! So you volunteered for a program, that enabled men to become pregnant. It was quite a sensation, because you were the first biological man to successfully have a baby. But you were well watched over by Daddy, and uncle Mycroft made sure you had all the newest equipment and the best medical help available. So, since you told me, I sometimes called you Mom to tease you. When I became a teenager, that happened more and more frequently, and somehow it stuck. You even grew fond of it over time. So, yeah. You are my Mom. As well as you both being my fathers." I sat there with wide eyes and open mouth. I just couldn't believe any of it. And when Sherlock suddenly turned to me with a lost look on his face, I needed to get out! All this just wasn't real. I got up, left the table and went to my room.
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