A/N: So I just came up with the idea of this fic and I'm debating on whether or not I should continue writing it. Comments will be very welcomed, both positive and negative ones, as they help me write better.
This is an initial draft, the story night go through changes if I will decide to keep writing it.
If I will continue writing it, I will probably post the next chapter during the next week: Tuesday/Wednesday, after that, I will post a chapter every weekend.
I really hope you'd like it, as I like the idea of this story in my head and I think it will be interesting to continue writing it.
Enjoy!
Amanda stood outside the house where she knew Sherlock was living. She hadn't seen him for five years and wasn't sure how will he react to her return. Probably anger. Though calling Mycroft would be his second action once he will overcome the shock. She started having second thoughts about the whole deal, but she also knew it was too late to turn back. She made a decision, and she has to keep it. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. An old woman opened it and looked her up and down.
"Client?" she asked.
"No, I'm… I just need to see Sherlock. I was told this is where he stays." Amanda mumbled to the looks of the unconvinced woman.
"Of course, deary." She said as she let her in. "Right up there. They're always there." She added, pointing at the staircase leading to 221B.
'They?' Amanda thought and walked up the stairs. She vaguely remembered the mention of a doctor that worked with Sherlock, but she couldn't recall the name. She hastily opened the door. Inside, she could hear the familiar voice of Sherlock and another one she hadn't recognized. She walked into the living room where she saw Sherlock laying on the couch.
"It was an honest mistake!" He yelled.
"An honest mistake means it only happens once, not ten times!" Yelled the other man out of the kitchen. "How many times must I tell you, Sherlock: You cannot punch a suspect in a police interrogation simply because they..." He stepped out of the kitchen and stopped mid-sentence as he saw Amanda.
Sherlock looked up, curious as to why his friend stopped talking and froze as he saw Amanda. "Amanda." He said, his voice emotionless.
"Sherlock." She replied, preparing herself for what will happen next. A million possible scripts passed through her mind over the past days since she returned to London, but neither of them was him stepping up and pulling her into an embrace. Her arms automatically wrapped around him and she held him close, finally letting all the feeling she suppressed rise up to the surface.
She forgot how much she missed him.
"Amanda," Sherlock said as they finally freed each other, "this is my best friend, John Watson. John, I'd like you to meet my sister, Amanda."
"Sister?" John asked while shaking Amanda's hand politely. "I never knew you had a sister."
"And since when do you do friends?" asked Amanda. "Though I must say," she added, her eyebrows raised while examining the person in front of her, "no complains here."
"He's kind of an exception as to being my friend." Sherlock said, ignoring her comment and the blush that rose on John's cheeks. "And yes, John, I do have a sister. Though I hadn't seen her in the past five years." He added, shooting Amanda an accusing look.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but I had to get away." Amanda explained, truly sorry for her elder brother. "I felt suffocated. Between mother and father wanting me to go to Cambridge and Mycroft always at the lookout, I had to get away."
"I understand that, but going off the radar for five years?" He asked. "A bit of an overkill here, don't you think?"
"Mycroft." She replied, not elaborating.
Both Sherlock and John realized it was enough, as anyone who knew Mycroft could understand why it was needed to entirely disappear in order to get a break from him.
"Never mind that," Amanda said, putting a fake smile on her face. "The important thing is that I'm back here."
"I need to call him."
The smile slid off Amanda's face. "I know." She said with an excepting sigh. Not that she had much choice of that matter. "I'll wait here with John."
"What?" Asked John, but before he could do anything to protest, Sherlock was off.
"So," Amanda said, half a smile on her face as she watched John get more inconvenient with every word she said, "how did you get to become a friend of my brother?"
"It just… sort of… happened." He said, causing Amanda to laugh.
"That is how things usually go around with Sherlock." She said, her hand on his arm. "Don't worry," she whispered in his ear, "he gets better with time."
Just at this point, Sherlock entered back into the room. John looked relieved from not having to answer Amanda's comment. "He's outside." Sherlock told Amanda and she gave Sherlock a hug and planted a kiss on John's cheek, just close enough to his lips to make him feel uncomfortable, right before heading outside. "Sorry about her," she could hear Sherlock telling John right before she left the room. "She can be a bit… weird sometimes."
'No kidding.' Amanda thought as she walked out of the flat and entered the big, black car that parked there. Immediately as she entered, she could hear a familiar voice.
"Marisela Louisa Amanda Holmes, what the hell were you thinking?" Asked Mycroft, looking at her with anger in his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but he held out a hand to stop her. "Five years." He said. "You had five years to contact and explain yourself, but you didn't. You've lost your chance. Do you have any idea how worried was I? How worried were Mother and Father? How much it affected Sherlock? Do you know he nearly relapsed?"
"I never meant for any of it to happen." Amanda mumbled.
"Of course you didn't." said Mycroft. "That's just what happens when you don't think!"
"I was thinking!" She said, mad at him. Within less than five minutes, he managed to remind her why she left in the first place. "I was thinking about myself! For once in my life, I did what was best for me. And let me tell you something – I don't regret it for a moment!"
Mycroft studied his younger sibling for so long Amanda began feeling uncomfortable. She wasn't going to say another word, though. She was sick and tired of explaining herself for those who didn't care. As the minutes passed on with no remark from Mycroft's behalf, she decided she isn't gonna take it any longer.
"Let me out." She said.
"Amanda…" Mycroft tried.
"No." She said sternly. She was not ready to listen to him talk any second longer. "Earlier I've missed my chance to explain. Now you've missed yours. Let me out."
"Amanda, please, I'm ready to listen –"
"You are never ready to listen!" She yelled, the frustration from her overprotective family showing up its signs. "All you ever do is pretending you're listening, only to make me keep quiet. And I'm sick and tired of it. Let. Me. Out."
"Can I at least take you back to Baker Street?" Mycroft asked, worried how she will find her way back home in the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.
"No." Amanda replied.
He opened the car door and she climbed out of it. She felt the world spinning around her as she rose too quickly, but didn't show, so that Mycroft wouldn't have a reason to stay. He looked at her one last time as she turned and walked away.
"If you need anything," he said, "you know you can always call me, right?"
Amanda hadn't as much as looked at him as she dialed the number she learnt by heart during the past years.
"Hello." Said the cold, yet familiar voice from the other end of the line.
"Hey, it's me." She said, as she began every conversation with him. "I just met them and they don't suspect anything. I'm in."
She could hear the smile in Jim's voice. "Good girl." He said. "You have fifteen minutes to be back to the usual place. And you better not be late like last time."
She shivered from the memory of that occasion, and promised herself she will not be put through this again. "I'll be there." She said, only to the sound of silence, as Jim hung up already.
She hurried on her way, afraid to become, once again, the subject of Moriarty's wrath.
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