The Hourglass of Amaranthine

Chapter One: Unexpected

"Violet Scott. I'm Sherlock's cousin." Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened at the sight of the lady on her doorway. She was beautiful in every aspect. Her deep blue eyes hypnotic, her black curls falling loosely on her shoulders. A woman of average height and cheeks showing a natural shade of scarlet.

"Oh... I'll call Sherlock then, dear." The landlady smiled at her sweetly and headed for the stairs. Violet returned the smile knowingly and watched her walk away. Her eyes wandered at the ornaments that decorated the narrow hallway of the flat. She couldn't imagine her cousin living in these conditions.

Rapid footsteps filled her ears followed by continuous statements that evidently showed intelligence and ingenuity. She smiled unintentionally and not before long, the tall figure she imagined in her head emerged from the top of the stairs.

"What are doing here? I thought you were meeting up with Mycroft?" Sherlock spat the last word as if it was toxic poison.

"I did. I asked him where you were staying." Violet's eyes instantly brightened up. She was quite fond of having conversations with Sherlock. Her mental abilities matched his and his of hers. Mycroft Holmes may have that ability as well but she never felt compelled to him as compared to Sherlock.

"You asked him? What, are you losing your ability to think and eliminate certain areas of London and make a deduction as to where I might be staying at the current moment? That's very uninteresting, Violet." He narrowed his eyes at her, a hint of disappointment was written on his face but the other percent couldn't care less.

"I know exactly where you're staying given the fact that you've taken homage to Mrs. Hudson's hospitality and refused to leave her accommodation even though you know its very risky considering the news of your imminent death making its way to the telly therefore broadcasting it all over England and Baker street should be the last place you should be and yet here you are, trying to solve minor crimes in your sad lonely flat with no other companion except that trusty John Watson you seem so fond of." Her arms were crossed, a gesture of challenge, which the consulting detective immediately noticed.

"Yes, indeed. It might impress some mundane people but you do forget who you're speaking to and judging by the way your hair is fixed, it would seem that you had a fight with your father but then again, it could be the blowing of the wind but that would be proven false since the direction of air would be east so that's very unlikely. There are bags under your eyes that can either be an evidence of crying or your lack of sleep, or maybe both. The state of your shoes shows that from Mycroft's, you refused to take a cab, and decided to walk an entire mile to get here. Your family's rich now what would urge you to not take the cab? Ah, perhaps its the withdrawal of money that your father imposed because you've done something against his principles. Now, what would that be? It could be an arranged marriage but he's a very modern man and does not believe in traditional practices. So that leaves us with unexpected drinking or the refusal to continue your studies. But clearly, you've been alcohol-free since the day before, evident by your dry lips so that leaves us with the halted studies and therefore, getting kicked out of the house and the only men you trust would be friends from childhood, in this case, that would be either me or Mycroft."

"You haven't changed a bit." Violet laughed through her nose. This is the quality of his that she most certainly liked. Sherlock's mouth twitched which in his case was a huge sign of affection. Unexpectedly, that simple movement of his facial muscles was enough to make maiden's heart skip a beat.

Before he could notice, Violet turned her head away from him, her hair creating a curtain. It's dangerous to let him see her flushed cheeks even for just a few seconds. That time frame would be more than enough for the detective to make a deduction and that was the last thing she wanted to happen.

"Sherlock! I found your harpoon in my bedroom again. I thought I made it very clear not to-" A voice from the stairs interrupted the newfound silence. It was gentle yet stern, an aura that seems to be coming from him as well.

Soon, a short man, no taller than five foot seven, entered the scene. His sentence was cut short when his eyes landed on the woman standing before his roommate.

"So this is the famous John Watson." Violet stated rather than asked. She did a quick but discrete scan of the short man from head to toe. There was nothing extraordinary about him. He looked more average than most people and she couldn't figure out why Sherlock would want to hang around with a guy like him.

But then again, no one, not even her, knows what goes on inside the sociopath's head.

"And... you must be...?" John's eyes immediately went to the Sherlock. His back was facing him so the doctor didn't see him rolling his eyes. Abruptly, he span around and did a introductory gesture.

"John, Violet. Violet, John." He muttered under his breath, obviously irritated that he'd have to do with the formalities.

John walked towards her until he was only a feet away and stretched out his arm. "Sherlock's cousin, if I'm not mistaken." Violet replied with a delicate smile. "You're not."

Nobody in the room, except her, knew that John's words were like daggers in her heart. To be frank, it was only the work of a single word.

Cousin.


Ooohh... *gasp* Is this considered incest? Should I stop writing this? Should I continue? Are you curious what Sherlock's reaction would be? I don't usually write stuff like this. Please comment what you think or favorite (if you liked it). Also, if I do continue this, there would be an appearance of a certain woman. wink wink ;) COMMENT!