Chapter One
Sister Dear
"Sherlock can you please not be so... annoying?" Mycroft looked at his brother Sherlock with his face slightly scrunched up.
"No," Sherlock replied.
"Oh, and I got some unexpected news today,"
"About?"
"Sister dear is home," Mycroft spun his cane and walked out. Sherlock froze and John raised an eyebrow confused.
"W-What does he mean 'sister dear is home'?" John asked looking at Sherlock.
"He means the little devil, the little angel, the perfectionist, the greatest child, the most attractive, annoying, selfish, kind, caring, sweetest person alive," he paused "my sister,"
"That's not nice, brother, I'm no devil. Only in your eyes," a voice says from the doorway, Sherlock smirked, "Hello brother,"
"Sister," he picked up his violin and began to play off key. John looked over at the doorway and saw a 5'6" girl, blonde hair, dark purple lipstick, wearing black glasses, converses, jeans, a white tee shirt and a black hoodie.
"Brother, I thought you knew," she walked over to Sherlock and grabbed the violin, "playing off-key kills the aura," Sherlock chuckled and handed her the bow, she smirked and began to play a beautiful melody. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes, Miss Hudson walked up and saw the girl.
"I don't think I've seen you before," she stated slightly tilting her head, the girl smirked.
"I'm Sherlock's younger sister, Alex," Alex stopped playing and smiled.
"Younger sister? Oh, Sherlock! You never told me!"
"I forgot about her, Miss Hudson," Sherlock stated looking in the kitchen, Miss Hudson scoffed before leaving. Alex continued to play walking around.
"Miss Hudson! Where's my nicotine patches!?" Sherlock yelled.
"Sherlock! Go easy on her! She's done enough for you! Give her a break! Respect your elders!" Alex abruptly stopped playing and yelled at Sherlock who began to mock her, Alex walked over to him and smacked the back of his head. John was just shaking his head watching.
Lestrade ran up the stairs to the room out of breath.
"Sherlock w-who's this?" he looked at Alex confused.
"No one," Sherlock didn't look up from his laptop.
"No one? Brother, I'm your sister. You tolerate my existence,"
"Sister? Since when did you have a sister!?" Lestrade shifted his weight.
"Do you want some help on the case?" Alex asked tilting her head.
"No, we do not. We're fine, Alex," Sherlock grabbed his coat.
"Really? Because, well, while I was traveling I took police, detective, inspector classes so I think I can help,"
"Those don't exist!"
"I made them!" Sherlock scoffed and grabbed his scarf.
"Come on," Alex smiles and followed closing the door behind her forgetting about John.
"JOHN!" Sherlock yelled from the front door.
"COMING!" John grabbed his coat and went downstairs.
"Why are you here, Alex?" Sherlock asked his sister while in the taxi they just caught.
"Ever heard of a visit?" Alex snapped back.
"Don't be snarky, sister. It doesn't suit you,"
"Ooh but it does," Sherlock rolled his eyes. The three sat in silence, John being awkward, Alex keeping the air tense, and Sherlock still not accepting that his sister is here.
"Stop here, please," Alex abruptly said, the taxi stopped and she climbed out.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock looked at his sister.
"I'm making things worse, you have a case to run and I'm just being a mind-block. I'll be out and about, don't be surprised if I come home late tonight," she closed the car door and the taxi drove away.
Alex sighed, she never liked Sherlock or Mycroft, they always thought they were better than her. It annoyed the crap out of her. The familiar London fumes filled her lungs, she grinned at being home. She felt her phone ring in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. Mycroft. She clicked the green button accepting the call.
"Hello, brother mine,"
"There is a car pu-"
"Yes. There is a car pulling up, I'll get in blah blah blah, bye," she hung up and saw the black car pulling up. She opened the car door before it stopped and hopped in. It only took a few minutes before she got to the place where Mycroft's office was. She never had a real name for it. Just "the place". She thanked the driver and strutted into the front door, a sign read Absolute Silence. She walked past the place where no sound was to be heard and into Mycroft's office.
"What do you want, Mycroft?"
"Right on time. How is Sherlock treating you?"
"The same. He's not acknowledging I'm actually here," she ran her finger over one of the chairs, "but I'm guessing you've been keeping tabs on me,"
"Always, sister. What are you calling yourself now?"
"Alex,"
"Alex, huh, what happened to Sophie? Or Angela, or Skylar?"
"I didn't like them, Alex, fits me more,"
"No, it doesn't," Alex shrugged, "why don't you go by your real name, sister dear?"
"It's because I don't like it. Why am I here, Mycroft?"
"How was your stay?"
"It could have been better, of course," she looked at the eldest brother, lost weight, still single, afraid, £2,000 suit, still smoking like a beginner, getting too much sleep, busy, still stone cold. She chuckled, he hasn't changed a bit, she thought. Alex sat down in a chair and tapped the arm rhythmically, the two sat in silence.
"Well, sorry to waste your time, I should get going." Alex stood up and gave a weak two-finger salute to Mycroft.
"Sister, have the meds helped?" Alex paused, she sighed.
"Which ones?"
"All of them,"
"You want the real answer or the one you want to hear?" Mycroft walked over to her with dead eyes.
"The real answer,"
"Sure, I don't feel like myself when I take them,"
"That's what meds do, little sister," Alex scoffed.
"I'm not stupid, Mycroft!"
"No, you're not, you're insane," Alex rolled her eyes.
"Goodbye, brother, see you later," she walked out of the building.
London. A busy city full of many different kinds of people. The mediaists, the 'smart ones', the hermits, the normal ones, all of them in London. But all of them are the same, yet they don't know that they are the same. People like to think they're different. Alex knew who was faking it, even if people didn't know they were. She knew things people didn't want to know, she knew things that she wasn't supposed to know. People would call her insanely good at guessing but she never guessed, she always saw.
In the dark, she was like a shark finding a good meal, a tiger hunting a gazelle. She was the shark or the tiger, whoever she chose was the gazelle.