An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Standing by her father, John could see the resemblance. It wasn’t immediately striking, but she had the same skin tone, the same dark curls, same nose, though her face was splattered with freckles. Her right eye was the same unique shade her father had, her left a warm brown. She seemed a bit small for seven.
“Hello,” John gave her a friendly smile, “pleasure to meet you.”
Imogen looked at him a moment longer. John wasn’t sure what she was seeing (If she was anything like her father, probably a lot) but she seemed satisfied with it, giving John a smile and holding out her hand.
“Nice to meet you Mr Watson.”
After being kicked out of their last place, Sherlock moved into Baker Street with his seven year old daughter Imogen. Central London is a bit more expensive though, so they need a flatmate. Enter John Watson.
