Be My Valentine

Alessa Charlotte Olivia Holmes is my OC. She is Mycroft and Sherlock's younger sister, and one of the first OCs I ever made! I've never written anything about her before, however, and this is very short, so I doubt it can be considered as something, but more will come, if you guys like this!

I hope you enjoy, and I wish everyone the best Valentine's Day! :D

Alessa sighed, sitting down on John's old armchair and leaning back. Sherlock looked up from his phone he was currently tweeting on, glancing at her quickly before turning back to the screen.

"Do tell me what's wrong, Alessa. You can be very difficult to read sometimes."

The girl frowned. "Who says there's anything wrong?"

"I do."

"Well, I'm fine."

Silence took over the room for a while. Sherlock knew she was lying - he always knew - and seemed to be thinking of a way to approach it.

He was right. Alessa felt like crap, and it was simply to do with the fact that today was Valentine's Day. Her social medias were overflowing with pictures posted by her friends, almost all of them out for dinner with their boyfriends.

The youngest Holmes had never had a boyfriend. Not a proper one, anyway - Sherlock would find something wrong with him every time she brought one to the flat, and she'd be forced to let him go. She hated Sherlock for it, and she loved him; she was grateful for the fact that he was able to point out that her new, sixteen-year old boyfriend was on drugs, or smoking daily, or stealing from shops... but she wasn't overly fond of his clear over-protectiveness for his baby sister, which often lead to embarrassment on her behalf, and death threats on his.

So, this year, she was alone on Valentine's Day. Although she knew it wasn't the first, and it most definitely wasn't the last, the girl still felt upset about it, and she couldn't help the slight feeling of jealousy towards her friends.

Sherlock rose an eyebrow, lowering his phone and narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked at his sister. "You're upset. Why?"

"You're the detective," Alessa said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Work it out."

"You're awfully annoying, you know that?" Sherlock said with a huff, but nevertheless placed his phone on the table next to him and put his hands in his lap, crossing one leg over the other. Alessa ignored his comment, focusing entirely on making herself look as grumpy as she could. Silence reigned once more, and it was clear that Sherlock was deducting.

After a few seconds, he sighed. Alessa glanced up at him and noticed him looking knowingly at her. In a moment, his arms were open wide, and the corners of his lips were turned upwards slightly. "Come here," he said, and, craving the comfort, the girl immediately slid out of her chair and made her way over to her brother. She reached him and curled into a ball on his lap, feeling his strong arms wrap around her and pull her closer, his chin coming to rest on her blonde head.

"Teenage girls never cease to confuse me."

"Everyone confuses you."

"True. But you, in particular, have a way of making me see things a bit differently... see life a bit differently."

Alessa frowned, curling her fists into his shirt. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well... I suppose you could say that you remind me of what humanity is all about. Feelings. Emotions. What not having a boyfriend on Valentine's Day can do to you."

The girl smiled at that, hearing the low rumble of his chuckle. "It's stupid, I know that, but I feel... alone. Today is supposed to be spent with the person you love, yet here I am, curled up in a depressed ball on my big brother's lap."

"Valentine's Day is just another day, Y/N. I prefer to think of it as February the fourteenth. Nothing more."

"Yes, you prefer to think of it like that. It's different when you're my age."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment, before a thought seemed to come to him, and he glanced down at you. "You love me, right?" Sherlock asked, and his sister's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Of course I do."

The man smiled, and he rose one eyebrow. "Be my Valentine, Alessa Holmes?"

Alessa could have sworn that she felt like crying. Sherlock, the supposedly heartless, emotionless man, had seen his baby sister was upset and was trying to cheer her up in the most loving and brotherly way someone could, even though the day meant absolutely nothing to him. It was a complete and utter beautiful thing for him to do, and she couldn't help it as she sat up properly on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug.

"It would be my pleasure," she said quietly, and Sherlock turned his head to kiss her cheek before moving into a standing position, placing her on her feet.

"Excellent!" he said, looking at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Six-thirty pm. We have approximately four hours to do whatever we want. Can't have Mycroft ringing me up again because he's somehow found out I haven't sent you to bed on time, can we?"

Alessa rolled your eyes. Trust Mycroft to ruin all the fun. She looked up excitedly at her brother. "Whatever we want?"

"Within reason."

The young Holmes thought about all the things her friends were doing. It was too late to go bowling, and you didn't fancy going to see a movie at the cinema. "Can we go out for dinner?"

"Dinner? No. Dinner's boring. Ice cream, on the other hand…"