When John came home laden with grocery bags, he found Sherlock sitting on the sofa with his fingers tented in front of his face. "Don't mind me," he joked, knowing that Sherlock wouldn't.

"John, how do you feel about Scotland?"

There was a small clear space on the kitchen table so he sat the bags down. "Scotland?"

"Yes, John, Scotland." Sherlock got up and came over, rummaging through the bags.

"Why? Does this have something to do with a case?"

"What? No, it's not...well, I suppose it could be but no, it's nothing to do with a case. I need to go to Scotland. I was hoping you would come with me. I would be lost without my blogger." He flashed John a big grin, causing the doctor to lean against the fridge and cross his arms. "What?" he asked, this time his face betraying his confusion. "You don't have to come, I just thought you might like to get away from London, a sort of holiday."

"A holiday? While I was at the store you decided you want a holiday?"

"Do you want to go or not?" Sherlock asked, slightly impatient.

"It's not like I have a job to worry about so sure, I guess we can go."

"Good. We can leave tonight. I took the liberty of packing you a bag."

"You...Sherlock, you can't just go through my things like that. And you shouldn't have assumed I was going to agree to this!" John spotted his case by the sofa and picked it up. "I'll pack my own bag, thank you." Pausing on his way to his room, he asked, "How long are we going to be in Scotland?"

"I've no idea."

"Then how am I supposed to pack?"

"You know, John," Sherlock said, now sounding like he was speaking to a rather slow child, "they do have shops in Scotland. If you promise to play nicely with the chip-and-pin machine, I'm sure you can get anything you might need while we're there."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?"

"You're the one that came home and announced that you had a row with the machine." Glancing at his watch, Sherlock smiled. "If we leave tonight we can make it to Aberdeen by morning, then rent a car and head to Stonehaven."

"Stonehaven?"

"Yes, of course, that's where we're going."

"Why there?" John asked.

"Why not? It's a beautiful coastal town."

"What is this trip really about?"

Sherlock sighed and sat limply on the sofa. "There's someone that I need to visit."

"Ok." John leaned against the wall. "And this someone would be..?"

"I thought you would like to know that there is one member of my family that is capable of emotions."

"Really?" John pursed his lips, curious.

"It would seem that in the Holmes DNA, it is the Y chromosome that robs one of feelings."

John pondered this statement for a moment before he ventured a guess. "Your mother? You're going to see your mother? In Scotland?"

"No, not my mother."

"Sister?"

"Obviously."

"You have a sister? A sister that you never mentioned. And please, Sherlock, don't tell me that you deleted her like you did the solar system."

"Of course not. If I could delete siblings I would have deleted Mycroft ages ago."

"So you have a sister in Scotland. Why Scotland?"

"Because Mycroft hates Scotland. So, are you coming with me or not? Because the train leaves in an hour."

"Does this sister even know that you're coming to see her?"

"Well if she knew then Mycroft would know."

"So she doesn't know."

"It's fine, John."

"My case feels rather light. What did you pack, anyway?"

"We should get going. I can tell you more about her during the train ride, and whatever you need that I didn't pack you can pick up in Aberdeen."

They had a compartment to themselves and once they were settled John leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. "I can't believe you've got a sister that you've never mentioned. After all that I've told you about Harry, you never once said that you had a sister."

"Perhaps you should get some sleep. It will be several hours before we reach Aberdeen."

"Oh no you don't." John opened one eye to look at Sherlock. "I don't have to look at you to listen to you."

"And you won't remember what I say if you fall asleep in the middle of it. You're obviously tired."

"And when are you going to sleep?"

"When we get there. Stonehaven."

"I hope that's not the first thing you're planning on doing when you darken her doorstep. What's her name anyway, this sister of yours?"

"Jocelyn. Her name is Jocelyn and no, I'm not planning on just collapsing on her sofa if that's what you were thinking."

"Well that's a relief. So tell me about her."

With a soft sigh Sherlock leaned back on his own seat opposite John. "She was three years younger than me. My earliest memories are of Mycroft looking proud and Jocelyn crying."

"He picked on her then."

"Oh John, he didn't just pick on her. He was incredibly cruel to her. Constantly told her that she was defective and that defective things belong in the garbage." Sherlock tented his fingers and closed his eyes as thought it was an effort to recall those memories. "Our parents were never around and they expected Mycroft to look after her, so naturally he was resentful. I honestly believe that making her cry was his one true enjoyment."

"I think that's a normal phase for all siblings to go through, Sherlock."

"We weren't normal children though. I was used to Mycroft being cold and distant and emotionless but Jocelyn...she was much too emotional." Those pale eyes opened again and he looked out the window though it was dark and nothing could be seen. "That's why I don't care about the people, John. Caring about her didn't help me to save her."

"Save her?" Now John's eyes were open wide, his mouth slightly agape as he thought about what Sherlock had said earlier. "Sherlock, is she...still alive?"

"That's a stupid question even for you. Why would I be going to visit a dead person?" Sherlock snapped.

"This from a man who has long conversations with an empty flat."

"Only because Mrs. Hudson took my skull away." He smiled a bit, his eyes softening when he looked again at John. "Anyway, she's very much alive, I can assure you."

"Ok, good. Alive is very good. So did the two of you get along?"

"Our childhood really doesn't make for good bedtime stories, John."

Nodding, John leaned back again on his seat. "So does Mycroft interfere in her life the way he interferes in yours?"

"Not that I'm aware of. We should both try to get some sleep now so we're alert when we get to Aberdeen."

"And thus ends the conversation," John mumbled as his eyes slid closed. "Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked as they made their way from the train station.

"Yeah, fine, just don't ever suggest I sleep on a train again," John replied, trying to work a kink out of his neck.

"Don't worry, seeing you drool all over yourself once was enough; I've no desire to see you do it again."

"What? Sherlock, I...I didn't drool all over myself." Still, he wiped at his chin and looked down at his jumper just to be sure.

"Come on, the rental car company is just a block away."

"You enjoy messing with me, don't you?"

"You do provide me with a constant source of entertainment."

Forty minutes later they pulled up in front of a large stone house. "Your sister lives here?"

"Obviously." Sherlock got out of the car and ventured up the steps to the front door.

"Wow. I mean, seriously. This place is huge. Has she got a family?"

"No, unfortunately." He pressed the buzzer and then turned to John who was directly behind him. "You don't have to hide behind me, John. It's unlikely that she's going to shoot at us."

"I'm not hiding!"

"Of course not. You wanted to jump out and yell 'surprise' when she opens the door."

"Does that mean I should close the door and open it again so I can act surprised?"

Sherlock turned back at the sound of a female voice. "Hello Jocelyn," he said. "How long has it been?"

She smiled and leaned against the door frame. "I could tell you down to the minutes but you already know the answer. Now get in here, the both of you."

"This is Dr John Watson," Sherlock said, indicating the man behind him. "John, obviously you know who this is."

"It's nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. "I love your blog."

"You read my blog?"

"Yes, of course. Well, come inside. I doubt you came all the way from London just to chat on the porch."

The living room was big but sparsely furnished, with a large fireplace and a sectional sofa. Beyond the sofa was a kitchen and a staircase that led to the upper floors. "Can I get you some tea or coffee?" she offered, motioning for Sherlock and John to sit on the sofa.

Sherlock leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "Tea would be lovely, thanks."

"Dr Watson?"

"John, please, and tea will be fine. Thank you."

She disappeared into the kitchen and John turned to Sherlock. "I thought she'd be a lot more curious about why we're here and how long we're staying for," he said softly.

"How long we stay is irrelevant for her. She'll welcome us for as long as we are here."

"Isn't that rather rude? You can't just assume that people will put you up, even if she is your sister."

"Actually, he can. I've always told him he's welcome here anytime, for as long as he likes," Jocelyn said, returning two steaming mugs. "Are you hungry? I can fix you something-"

"We're fine," Sherlock said. "I need to talk to you."

"So I gathered." She sat beside him and leaned back with a sigh. "Go ahead then, talk and get it over with."

He looked confused and sightly hurt. "Have I done something wrong?" he asked, glancing at John and then back to her.

"No. Please, just tell me what it is you came here to tell me."

"Are you going to then kick us out?"

"What? No, Sherlock, I'm...god, I'm not going to kick you out. You can stay as long as you like. I just...I wish I didn't feel like you only call or visit when you want something from me."

"That's not true, I've called plenty of times without asking you for a single thing."

"When?"

"I called you last month."

"To ask if I could get you a sheep's head."

"Sheep is the national dinner, isn't it? I figured you would just throw it away so..."

"Have you ever known me to eat sheep?"

"It's not as though I spend 24 hours a day with you. How would I know what your eating habits are? And the last time I came to visit, I didn't ask you for anything."

"You were high on cocaine and hiding from Mycroft."

"But I didn't ask you for anything," he said softly, sinking further into the sofa cushions.

"And suddenly your relationship with your sister seems downright normal, doesn't it?" she asked John.

"How do you know about my sister?"

"Sherlock told me all about you and Harry the night he met you. He likes to text."

"I've noticed."

"Hey," Jocelyn said after a moment, reaching over and grabbing Sherlock's hand in her own. "Whatever has brought you here, I'm glad for it. I really have missed you. Now tell me what's wrong."

"I got bored." He looked at his hand as though he was surprised by her gesture. "I was drawn into a game by a dangerous man, and I was foolish. I didn't think about the consequences and now people have died."

"What do you need?"

"To figure out how this ends. Jos, I...I think it's someone you know."

"Me? Just because I was in a mental hospital doesn't mean I know every nutcase in the world."

"You were in a mental hospital?" John asked. "You don't..." He stopped and looked down, embarrassed.

"I don't look crazy?"

"Sorry, that was...definitely not good."

"Oh it's all right. I'm not crazy and yes, I was in a mental hospital thanks to Mycroft. It's a long story and ends with me getting this lovely property so I'd say it all worked out."

"You never should have been there to begin with," Sherlock growled.

"What makes you think that this...friend...of yours knows me, or that I know him?"

"I'll burn the very heart out of you."

"What?" she asked, her eyes getting wider.

"That is what he said to me when he had John decked out in Semtex. I'll burn the very heart out of you."

"Sounds more like someone who knows Mycroft."

"I doubt Mycroft would have told anyone."

"Will one of you please tell me what that sentence even means?" John demanded.

"When I was committed, I told Mycroft that when I got out I would burn the very heart out of him, assuming he had one," Jocelyn answered. "It doesn't make sense for someone that knows me to be playing games with you, though."

"Just try to think, was there anyone at the hospital that behaved strangely?"

"It was a mental hospital, Sherlock. Everyone behaved strangely. It was sort of a requirement for getting sent there."

John snickered and Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant."

"It was years ago."

"Does the name Moriarty mean anything to you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. It's not a time in my life that I really tried to remember." She stood up and headed towards the stairs. "Where are your cases?"

"Cases? No, god no, Sherlock, this was supposed to be a holiday, " John said.

"She means our suitcases, obviously. They're in the car."

"And shall I have the butler fetch them for you or can you manage that on your own?"

Sherlock held up the car keys and John shook his head in disbelief. "You really don't expect-"

Quickly the keys were shoved back into his pocket. "Of course not. Jocelyn doesn't have a butler, if she did she'd also have a maid. This place hasn't been dusted in a while so no maid, therefore no butler."

"Growing up in the Holmes household taught me that butlers are rude and pretentious and I've already got you so a butler would be rather redundant."

"I am not pretentious. I doubt you even know what the word means."

"Ok, Sherlock, you are not starting a fight with your sister before we've even unpacked," John said quietly. "Give me the keys and I'll go and get our bags."

"No, Jocelyn wouldn't easily forgive that. I'll get our bags and she can show you where your room is. I assume, dear sister, that I'll have my usual room?"

"Oh don't even start that 'dear sister' crap or I'll let you sleep in the car."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I have missed you so," he said, smiling warmly at her.

"You go fetch your bags and I'll keep Dr Watson company."

"It's John, please."

"Yes, so you said."

"Play nicely Jos," Sherlock said, his voice and the slight smirk of his lips causing John to look worried.

"Always," she replied before turning her attention back to John. "Would you like to see your room?"

"Sure." He watched his friend headed towards the door as Jocelyn stood up.

"Don't worry, I don't bite. Well, not anymore. Apparently biting is bad."

"She's just teasing you!" Sherlock called to him with a laugh before pushing the door open to go outside.

"He's right, I am just teasing. Come on, I'll show you around."

John followed her up the stairs and she pointed to the first door off the landing. "That's just used for storage, so if you need towels or linens you can find them in there. Feel free to help yourself."

"Why do you live in such a big house all by yourself?"

"Sherlock didn't tell you much, did he?" She continued down the hallway as she talked.

"No."

Jocelyn stopped and turned back. "This was our grandparents house. We used to come here for holidays. After our parents left and Mycroft controlled all the assets, I demanded this house in exchange for doing something he wanted."

"I'd hate to think what that was."

"Now that is a story that I'll have to tell you when you don't look like you're going to fall asleep holding the wall up."

John seemed surprised to find that he had been leaning against the wall and he quickly straightened up and moved away. "I'm fine."

"It's not like the wall was complaining, mind you. Your room is this one," she indicated by opening the door of the second room from the end of the hall. "Sherlock's room is at the very end of the hall."

"What does he feel so guilty about?" John blurted out. This was followed immediately by an apology as he looked at her with wide eyes. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean -"

"It's all right, John. He does feel guilty, despite my repeated assurances to him that there's nothing for him to feel guilty about."

"You and he get on ok?"

"Yes, of course we do. He is my brother and I love him. We both suffered, but he's decided that he should have saved me."

"From Mycroft?"

She nodded. "And from myself. Sherlock isn't as detached from his emotions as he would like the world to believe."

"So I've noticed."

"I know the two of you are talking about me up there. I'll give you 90 seconds to wrap the conversation up before I come up the stairs," Sherlock announced as the door banged shut behind him.

"We can talk more later. You two need to get settled and maybe get some rest, and I need to go to the grocery store."

"I should go through my bag and see what Sherlock packed."

"It's a quick ride into town if there's anything you need."

"Thanks. And thanks for putting me up."

"Sherlock has never brought anyone else here. You must be very special to him."

"We're not...I'm not gay."

"I wasn't aware we were discussing your sexual preferences."

"I'm coming up now," Sherlock called as they heard his footsteps on the stairs.

"It has not been 90 seconds," Jocelyn said.

"I was getting bored." He appeared at the top of the stairs and regarded them for a moment. "So, John, learn anything interesting about me from my sister?"

"Yes, I did."

When John offered nothing further, Sherlock tilted his head and looked at them both suspiciously. "What?"

"Is that my case?" John grabbed his from where Sherlock had set it on the landing. "I'm going to unpack and make a list of things that I need to pick up in town. Then maybe I'll catch a nap. I'll talk to you both later."

"So, what did you two talk about?" Sherlock asked as John went into his room.

"Nothing, really. I think he's worried about you. I'm going to the store, so what do you want for dinner?"

"So you're not going to tell me?"

"Are you worried?"

"Not at all. Just curious."

"Good. I think I'll fix pasta for dinner. Maybe a nice pesto. Is there anything you want me to pick up?"

"I can see the silly game you're trying to play, and I won't fall for it."

"By having pasta for dinner?"

"Oh don't play stupid. You know very well what I'm referring to."

She smiled in response. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Only because you have someone to torment." He pouted a bit, making her laugh.

"I'll be back in an hour or so. Try not to destroy anything before I return?"

She was out the door when his phone chirped. He looked at the message on the screen and frowned.

And how is our dear sister? -M

How would I know?

I assume that you're with her since two tickets to Aberdeen were purchased in your name. Or did you and Dr Watson get a craving for haggis? -M

She's fine. I'm fine. It's all fine. Back off.

After sending the last message, Sherlock went into his room and tossed the phone down on the desk. It chimed again but he ignored it, instead flopping down on the bed. After a few seconds he got back up and saw the handwritten list that was tacked on the door.

No storing experiments in the refrigerator.
No discharging firearms in the house.
No performing experiments in the kitchen.
No storing experiments in the refrigerator.
No flammables in the house.
No storing experiments in the refrigerator.
No experimenting on the neighbors' livestock.
NO STORING EXPERIMENTS IN THE REFRIGERATOR

"What am I supposed to do?" he groaned, throwing himself back onto the bed.