"Sherlock are you listening to me?!" John yelled to his flatmate.
"I'm sorry John, I couldn't hear anything over your incessant, idiotic gibberish." Sherlock put his head in his hands.
"Sherlock. All I was trying to do was tell you there's a case." John sat in his chair.
"Boring." Sherlock rolled on his back, facing the ceiling, on the couch.
"...And it has Moriarty written all over it." John finished his sentence, causing Sherlock to face him.
"Less boring, continue John." Sherlock sat up straight, listening this time.
"Seven hours ago two women were walking around to the park, and on the swing set were two men..." John started to say, but Sherlock interrupted.
"John, that is barely something that the Scotland Yard needs to handle." He scoffed.
"If you would let me finish one lousy time!" John yelled and Sherlock became silent, "As I was saying, there were two men, dead on the swing set, swaying back and forth. Both had symbols on their chests. A radio playing next to them the tune of Staying Alive playing. Sound interesting enough for you yet?" Sherlock grinned.
"Oh yes, very." Sherlock shot up, off of the couch. As they prepared to leave, John received a call.
"Hello, yes we're on our...What? How is that? No. Alright, goodbye." John shut off his phone and slipped off his jacket.
"Mary again?" Sherlock laughed, and headed towards the door.
"No actually, it was Greg Lestrade. The case has been solved." Sherlock rolled his eyes at him.
"You must be joking. Those idiotic simpletons could not even solve a double homicide case John." Sherlock turned the door handle.
"Sherlock, I am being serious. They said some woman came in and looked at the evidence." He stopped him from opening the door.
"Oh, joy, some police detective. Please John, don't make me laugh." The detective smirked.
"They said her last name was Holmes."
"John, I am not the only being on Earth with the last names Holmes." John opened his mouth to say something more, but Sherlock answered his phone. "Blood."
A voice could be heard from the other side of the line, Mycroft. "Brother, my men are coming to meet you there, I need to speak with you."
"Can't you simply tell me on the phone?" Sherlock replied, annoyed.
The dial tone sounded. Frustrated, Sherlock waited on the couch for his older brother.
After about two hours, he became bored and impatient. "John, how much longer will they take?"
As if responding to him, the door to the flat opened and Mycroft strutted in.
"Hello brother of mine, mind sending your little boyfriend away so we can have our discussion?" Mycroft gestured to John who was scowling.
"I am not his boyfriend. I'm leaving." John walked out and slammed the door behind him.
"What do you want Mycroft? Make it quick." Sherlock swung his legs back onto the couch so he was lying on his back again.
"I would like if you would pay attention to what I am saying." Sherlock groaned, turning back to his original sitting position.
"Is this about the case earlier today?" He looked up at his older brother whom was sitting in John's chair.
"As a matter of fact, yes." Mycroft moved pieces on the chess board, so they were perfectly alligned.
"Do continue brother." Sherlock rolled his eyes, uncaring. Instead of answering, he handed Sherlock a file.
"What is this?" Sherlock studied the manila folder.
"Perhaps you should, oh I don't know, open the folder!" He smiled, seeing Mycroft upset always brightened his demeanor. He carefully opened the file.
It read as follows:
Juliette Angelica Victoria Holmes
Mother: Josephine Rowe
Father: Unknown
Born: 1990
"Those were a few results from a DNA test I had done, after her hat was left at the crime scene this afternoon." Mycroft took back the folder.
"So, I do not understand the significance Mycroft. You interrupted my day for this?" Sherlock leaned back on the couch.
"Well I'm cross matching the DNA at the moment. We're still waiting for the results." Mycroft picked up his phone, results instantly being streamed to his Iphone. His eyes went wide, "Dear God..."
"What is it now?" Sherlock had had enough of Mycroft.
"Sherlock, this woman is our sister." Mycroft looked shocked.
"But that's impossible." Sherlock said.
"It seems so, but unfortunately that is the case." Mycroft explained. "I've arranged to meet with her, at this address in 15 minutes."
"Whatever for? And why at my flat?" Sherlock complained.
"Because my brother, she helped us to clean up a mess. So now she is part of our dysfunctional family, whether she likes it or not." There was a knock on the door.
" Hello?" A voice said at the door.
Mycroft walked over to answer it. "Hello Ms. Holmes, please come in."
A very attractive woman with dark hair, a pale face, and light blue eyes walked in. She was feeling defensive but other than that I could barely read her.
"Pardon my temper but you two are not policemen and I have yet to be told my reason for being here. So I suggest you enlighten me." Sherlock laughed at how abrupt she was with Mycroft.
" My apologies, my name is Mycroft and this is my brother Sherlock."
"Hello." She nodded in both Mycroft and Sherlock's directions.
"Now. Would you mind telling me why I am here? I am terribly busy." She asked and crossed her arms.
" Busy solving cases for the Scotland Yard, you mean?" Her face went an even paler shade of white. " Why don't you take a seat?"
" Ms. Holmes, do you have any siblings?"
"No, I'm an only child." She hesitated before sitting in the chair.
"May I sit here?" She directed the question towards Sherlock.
"Why would I care? What a stupid question." He rolled his eyes.
"Well by the way you were looking at it, it seemed to hold some sort of an emotional value to you." She sat down on the old chair.
"Ha." Mycroft laughed.
"Do you know your parents well?"
"Yes, sort of, what does this relate to?"
"Quit toying with her Mycroft, we think you could potentially be related to us."
"How is this even possible? I mean I don't even know my ... Oh my God."
"Oh my dear, I'm sorry, but it is. Welcome to the family?"
Juliette
"Wait, give me one moment." I tried to process what these strange men were telling me, "Alright. I am Juliette Angelica Holmes. However, you most likely knew that, considering you have a file on me." I had snuck the folder out from their hands.
"It's impolite to sneak you know." I flipped through my file, to say they knew a lot was an understatement. "How interesting, seeing my life on a piece of paper." I shut the file and slid it across the floor.
"So, you have come to terms with the fact that you are our sister?" The one called Mycroft questioned.
"I don't really have a choice in it, so yes. Now the question is what do we do now?" I looked over to the taller, seemingly sociopathic one, Sherlock.
"Well you help on cases, obviously." Mycroft answered.
"And if I refuse?" I glared.
"You would be obstructing police business." Mycroft replied, smirking.
Sherlock seemed to need a moment to talk to his, our, brother alone. Of course, I stayed close to eavesdrop.
"We don't need her Mycroft, you realize I am the smartest person here, correct?"
"Don't flatter yourself, brother."
"How long did it take her to solve the case?"
"4 maybe 5 hours?"
"And did she have a partner, a full laboratory, and days of research?"
"Well no, she just got lucky, Mycroft…"
"I have another case, take her with you."
"No, I shall not."
"Oh yes you shall, or do I have to do a random drug inspection? Hm?"
"Cretan."
"It was nice catching up with you, blood."
I walked back into the room, casually. "Leaving so soon?"
"Yes, I am afraid I must. It was…enjoyable meeting you, sister." He took my hand to shake it.
"And you as well brother." I returned the hand shake.
He left out of the flat and Sherlock stood. "I assume you heard about the case, from your place in the corner."
"You assumed correctly." He slipped on a black trench-coat and scarf.
"Huh, interesting". I accidently said out loud.
"What is so interesting?" He gave me a look that could kill.
"Oh nothing, your wardrobe is just very sensible. You did not seem the Milford coat wearing type, but it is very clever. As you probably know, despite this coat being wool, it is quite waterproof because of its double Irish tweed bonding. Just very interesting, is all." I shrugged, trying to gauge his reaction. For a split second he appeared to be impressed, then turning back to disinterested.
"That is precisely the reason I chose this, actually." He tied his scarf and muttered quietly, "Maybe she isn't such a complete Neanderthal like the rest of them."
I put my simple water resistant pea-coat back on my shoulders and tied the belt around it.
We took a taxi to a red brick building on the edge of the street, I noticed a few police cars, but that was the only thing out of the ordinary here.
I followed Sherlock out of the cab and I paid the driver, unlike him, I had at least a sense of what etiquette was.
We walked up the stairway to the third floor, make a note, 3rd floor, room 321…
"What did you say?" I realized I had said that out loud.
"Oh nothing, I'm thinking." I answered.
"Well stop." He turned the corner into the room.
"Well, well if it isn't our neighborhood pest." Sargent Sally Donovan said.
"Sargent. This is Ju…" She interrupted him.
"I know who she is, she helped us solve a case earlier today, pretty quickly I might add. Thanks again." She put out her hand and I shook it.
A gangly man poked his head out of the apartment's kitchen, most likely where the crime took place, and stepped out with us.
"I'm afraid, I haven't had the pleasure. Detective Anderson." He held onto my hand a bit longer than was considered friendly, not to mention his pulse quickened, and his pupils dialated. No, no, perfectly ordinary.
"I'm Juliette Holmes, it's nice to meet you, detective." I made eye contact.
"Please, call me Phil. Pardon my prying, but did you say Holmes? Any relation to…" He pointed back to Sherlock.
"He's my brother, half-brother to be specific." I shrugged. "So, the body is in the kitchen, correct?" I pulled on a fresh glove from my pocket of my coat.
"Um, yeah." Anderson stuttered.
Sherlock practically ran past me. No matter, I only needed fifteen minutes, I had 8 possible situations in my head, so far.
My morbid brain had already gotten carried away. "Extraordinary." I mumbled, looking at the desecrated corpse in front of me.
Sherlock was saying something about equations and having to do some tests in a lab, but I was examining the body. The body was torn apart, there was no questioning that, however that was too easy. I turned over the body to find a miniscule poison dart, similar to one used when hunting large game. I slipped this in an evidence bag and into my pocket. I looked over to the window, unsurprised to find it partially open. It was just large enough to slip in this poisonous dart. I do want to study this later on, but there was a case to solve.
"We need to go back to Baker street, do some tests, examine pictures. Go to the morgue…" Sherlock began to mumble again, mainly to himself.
"Not necessary." I sighed.
"Pardon?" He spun around.
"I said there is no need, I know what happened, open and shut." I sat on the old couch.
" ." He gritted his teeth slightly.
"Gladly. You see, the victim is most clearly mutilated, there was much blood loss. Also, as you can see, this was not the cause of death. If you look at the victims mouth, you can see it is slightly foaming and there is a rash on his arm. Seizure, caused by a severe allergic reaction. Nothing is visible, of course, but if you look here," I opened the back and carefully pulled out the small vial with the needle attached to show him. "This was inserted into his back, very artfully done, I must say. This poison dart is used on many animals in the Sahara, used by poachers to kill large game. Therefore, this was the cause of death. Find out the serial number, who sold it and to whom. Then you will have your killer."
The room was quiet. "That is highly unlikely." Sherlock scoffed.
"A bit jealous, aren't we, freak?" The Sargent sassily remarked.
" Whatever…" Sherlock began is descent of the stairs.
I started to follow, but an arm grabbed me. "That was amazing." Anderson said, eyes glinting.
"Thank you, but it was nothing, really." I scratched my neck.
"Here." He handed me a slip of paper. "In case you need anything."
I flipped over the card to see his number written on it. "Thank you."
I walked out of the building, to see the taxi pull away. "Thanks for holding the cab for me!" I yelled. "Jerk." I sighed, and prepared for my lengthy walk back to my own flat.
After a block, I felt too tired to continue. What is wrong with me? I had the perfect sleep last night. I'm never this tired. Now there was a stabbing sensation in my leg, I could feel.
I reached my hand behind my calf in an attempt to soothe the aching area, until I hit something. I pulled and I knew what I had found before I saw it, a dart. Just great.
I woke up in a dark room, no windows, on door, and I'm tied up in a chair.
"Oh she's awake! Why hello there sleeping beauty. Waking up for your Prince Charming I see. Jim Moriarty…Hi!"
Great, just what I need, a psychopath, well better play along. "Oh, hello, my name is Juliette. I'd shake your hand, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment."
He giggled insanely and turned to face one of his blonde minions. "Ooh, I like her."
"So…I don't mean to sound too much like a cliché damsel in distress, but why am I here?" I asked, and looked him straight in his crazy eyes.
"Well my pretty damsel, you're quite the little detective, aren't you?" He stepped closer.
"I dabble, here and there, although nothing professionally." I shrugged and turned away. His eyes possessed a strange quality to them.
"Oh my dear, it is considered polite to make eye contact when having a conversation." He tilted my head back towards his. I gulped and faced him. "There, isn't that better now?" He whispered. "Now, care to tell me why you interrupted my little game?"
"G-game?" I questioned, as I started to turn away from him again.
"Uh-uh." He held my chin in his hand. "I have a game, with a certain consulting detective. I create cases that only he can solve, or so I thought. How did you do it?"
"I, just, observed." I swallowed my fear.
"Oh, you are a clever, clever little mouse." Moriarty tipped up my chin. "This, might just work my dear, welcome to our game." Everything went black.
