Elizabeth knows she has two brothers. She doesn't remember having met either of them. She remembers the day she was sent away though. She was no more than seven when they sent her away, her brothers several years older. She remembers waving goodbye to…. someone. She doesn't remember the face. But, Elizabeth is grown now; more mature and independent. She came home from the school and told her mother, "I want to find them." Not two days later she reads the headline of the local newspaper, "Holmes Reveals Hounds." Holmes. She looks him up and finds his address. 221B Baker Street.
Sherlock paced back and forth in his flat, John sitting in his chair and reading the paper. Sherlock looked over at John and rolled his eyes. "How can you just sit there?" He yelled at John. "Are you not bored?"
John sighed after he took a sip of tea. "No, Sherlock. I'm content with sitting and resting. You just solved the Baskerville case yesterday. You surely cannot be bored already." Sherlock gave him a look. "Right. That was stupid of me to say." John continued to read the paper as Sherlock jumped about in their living room. Just as Sherlock thinks he'll die of boredom, the doorbell rings downstairs.
"Yes! Client!" Sherlock ran down the stairs and flung the door open. He stared down at the girl who was at least 10 years younger than him. "Yes? What do you have for me? And don't be boring."
Her face goes through a couple emotions, joy, realization, fear and finally landing on something he can't interpret. "Oh-my, my mom didn't come home from grocery shopping. I called her… Some man I didn't recognize answered."
John called from the top of the stairs. "Why didn't you consult the police? She's missing."
"I… I wanted to talk to you. I.."
"Well, come in then." Sherlock ushered her in and shut the door behind her. John cleared a chair for her to sit on. "When did this happen?" John asked, trying to be like Sherlock but clearly not doing a very good job.
"Just, just this morning." She took the seat John prepared for her.
"You mean it hasn't even been 24 hours yet?" John asked, forgetting about the man that had answered her mother's phone.
"No. The man on the phone…"
"What about the man on the phone?" Sherlock asked. "What did he say? What did he want? What did he sound like? Why did he take her phone? Is he going to kill her? Why didn't you go with her?" Sherlock bombarded her with questions.
"I, I," Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth and stared at Sherlock.
"What? What?!" Sherlock yelled at her.
John placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "Don't yell at her, Sherlock! She's just a girl!"
"Sherlock…" Elizabeth pulled her hand away, her voice quiet.
"What?" Sherlock stared at her. He noticed her features. Same hair color as Mycroft. The shape of her nose was strangely similar to that of Sherlock's nose. He shook his head. "Who are you again?"
"Elizabeth. My name is Elizabeth Holmes."
John stared in shock. Sherlock just looked at her, no emotion on his face whatsoever.
"You're Elizabeth Holmes? Are you two… related?" John asked, still trying to process things. "Sherlock, I thought Mycroft was your only sibling."
"He is." Sherlock said, still staring at Elizabeth. "Holmes is a common name."
Elizabeth shakes her head. "No. Sherlock, I have two older brothers. I don't remember them because I was sent to boarding school when I was young."
"No." Sherlock said as he paced the living room floor. "Mycroft is my only sibling. My parents stopped at me. They said I was too much to handle. Plus, they despised each other. They couldn't have possibly stopped hating each other long enough to reproduce." Sherlock said, not taking his eyes off Elizabeth.
Elizabeth sat patiently. "I was a mistake. They got drunk one night and well, here I am. I wasn't supposed to be here so, they sent me away."
"Then how did you find out about me?" Sherlock asked, intrigued by her story.
"I saw you in the paper, did my research. Then mom disappeared and well, you could help."
"What makes you think I want to help? My mother never treated me well as a child. Why should I help her? Or help you for that matter?" Sherlock asked her with disgust on his face.
"Sherlock, they're family. Your mother is missing and your little sister is asking for help." John whispered to Sherlock.
"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't help. I just wanted you to know."
"Sherlock." John said his name, disappointed.
"Fine. I'll help. But only because this case is the only thing keeping me from dying of boredom." Sherlock said as he grabbed his coat and scarf. "Give me your phone." He demanded.
She handed it over but didn't unlock it. He stared at the phone for five seconds, then at her. A four digit passcode. He scanned her body for anything resembling her birthday. He spotted her right ring finger. An amethyst. February birthstone. Pisces; Sensitive, friendly, compatible, beautiful eyes and smile, imaginative, escapist, likes to take care of others. Pisces, February 19-March 20. Their parents only get drunk during the last days of June and beginning of July, usually during the American Independence Day. He typed in 0227. Wrong. 0226. Wrong. 0225. Unlocked.
She frowned, deciding to change her password later. "John, you were about to offer me tea?"
"Oh? Yes, of course." John said as he hurried to the kitchen to make a pot of tea.
"No, John. We have to go!" Sherlock ran down the stairs and out the door onto Baker Street. He stared at the phone as he searched through call history, selecting his mother's phone and dialing it.
"I didn't want any anyway." Elizabeth said as she hurried after her brother.
Someone answered the phone. "Well, hello there, sweetheart." A strange voice came from the phone.
"Who is this?" Sherlock asked, knowing right away who it is.
"Mr. Holmes, long time no talk." The man laughed on the other line. "I have your mother here with me. I suggest you hurry."
"Oh, come on. You always give me at least one hint."
"I'd rather float about." And a with a click, he disconnected.
Elizabeth caught up with him. "Did he talk to you?"
"No." He hailed a cab. "Get in."
She got in. "John coming?"
"Yes. With me." He turned to the cabbie. "Take her to St. Bart's." He turned back to her. "Ask for Molly Hooper. Tell her Sherlock sent you." He slammed the door shut.
