Sherlock wasn't just an ordinary man, no, he was so much more. Sherlock Holmes was an intellectual genius, he was after all, a consulting detective; The only one too. Staring up at the ceiling he closed his eyes, he hadn't had a case in quite some time and he swore that he could feel his very brain being eaten away by the disuse it suffered every minute that passes. "Sherlock? Sherlock we're out of milk. I thought I bought some yesterday." John's voice echoed from the kitchen. Sherlock ignored him, he had little patience for any of John's complaining. He had other things on his mind, more important things, like, for example, the whereabouts of one Jim Moriarty, it wouldn't be long before he made his presence known to Sherlock once again. "Sherlock! Sherlock are you even listening to me?" Opening his eyes, Sherlock looked up at John who seemed quite irritated,
"Would you mind? I'm trying to think." Sherlock snapped bitterly,
"Oh, is that what you call this?" John retorted, "I would call this wallowing in self-pity. You need to get up and look for a case instead of doing… this!" John cried in anger. Sherlock sat up,
"Oh? And what cases? I refuse to help little girls look for pet dogs!" He cried standing up and pacing in front of the couch,
"Well why don't you see if your brother needs a hand with anything?"
"Help Mycroft?!" Sherlock exclaimed, "With a case! Don't make me laugh." John smirked,
"Well then, it's probably not a good time to tell you I invited my sister over for tea." Sherlock crossed his arms, "And I would appreciate it if you weren't a dick."
"Why would you do that?" He questioned. John shrugged,
"I thought it would be nice to see one of my family members. Considering I haven't seen her in years."
"That is a terrible idea and I am astounded that you thought it would be anything other than a terrible idea!"
"Oh Sherlock dear!" Mrs Hudson's voice rang, "Sherlock are you here?"
"Oh god! Will this torment ever end?" Sherlock cried as he flopped back down onto the couch, listening only to Mrs Hudson's footsteps that echoed up the staircase. "Sherlock, you have a guest." Mrs Hudson smiled warmly as she looked at Sherlock, who turned his back to her,
"Tell Harry Watson that the tea has been cancelled."
"Well, well, isn't that just lovely." The voice of a woman said. Upon hearing the unfamiliar voice Sherlock sat up, his eyes falling on a woman of average height, she had waist length blonde hair that had been straightened with hazel eyes and she wore long black tights and a leather jacket. As Mrs Hudson took her leave, John raced forward embracing the woman tightly, despite the half-hearted pat on the back he received from her. "So this is Harry Watson?" Sherlock asked curiously, judging from what John had told him of Harry, this woman was the complete opposite of what he had initially expected. John turned to face him,
"Ah…. No. This, Sherlock, is my little sister, Alex Watson." The woman, Alex, raised her eyebrow at the sight of Sherlock,
"Sherlock Holmes I presume? I've heard quite a bit about you." She said looking him up and down, her brow furrowed, Could it be that she's quite possibly analysing me? Sherlock thought as the woman smirked and made eye contact with him, No, anyone related to John couldn't have the capacity to understand the many layers that makes up an individual. "I must say, you're not what I expected." Alex said placing a hand in her jacket pocket and pulling out her phone. Sherlock paused,
"That's because most people find it difficult to understand the difference between reality and expectations." He snapped despite the fact that he had originally expected her to be Harry Watson. Alex raised an eyebrow, a small smile appearing on her lips,
"I did warn you about him." John whispered to her. Alex however simply continued to smile, "Although I'm starting to think I should've warned him." John muttered more to himself rather than anyone else.
"Fair point, Mr Holmes. However, an expectation of an individual is usually built up on information one has gathered on the individual. An expectation is built in order to have a foreground on the person and have some idea on what to expect. I was simply referring to the fact that I didn't think the so called 'great' Sherlock Holmes would be grumpy man who relies on his Landlady to answer the door and parades around in his pajamas's in the middle of the day." Alex finished crossing her arms. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and as he opened his mouth to reply to the woman, he was cut off by his flatmate,
"Um, well, perhaps I can get you a drink… Alex…?" He said nervously looking to his little sister who was in a staring contest with the consulting detective. "You know what, I'm just going to get us all drinks." John said loudly before heading towards the kitchen.
"I solve cases. Does it matter whether I'm dressed appropriately or not?' Sherlock asked. Alex shrugged,
"Well, I suppose not considering what I've heard about your reputation." Sherlock narrowed his eyes,
"And that would be?"
"Well, quite frankly, you're a man who enjoys to outsmart everyone in the entire universe and is considered to be a complete show-off. So naturally the more attention you get the happier you must be." As John returned, placing the three glasses of juice carefully on the table, he turned back to Alex,
"I thought we agreed you'd play nice." He hissed, Alex simply shrugged,
"That was before I met Sherlock." Alex smiled looking to Sherlock once again,
"Are you positive you're related to John?" Sherlock asked,
"I have my doubts." Alex replied. Sherlock smiled in amusement, the difference between the two siblings were outstanding, even the way the talked, dressed and even walked were stark differences one couldn't help but pick up.
"Tell me John, why have you called your sister here on such short notice?" Sherlock asked locking his eyes onto John, who gave a nervous chuckle,
"Well, Alex is new in town and needed a place to stay so I thought with a third person helping with the rent, things could be much easier?" Sherlock stomped his foot,
"Without informing me you were going to allow a woman to move in with us?" Sherlock exclaimed, John sighed, placing his head in his hand,
"Oh god, would you grow up, Sherlock? She has no problem with sleeping on the couch, it's only until she finds a place of her own." Sherlock however, was still unimpressed at the thought of Alex Watson moving in with them, so far his impression of her was not exactly favorable. But seeing as how John was his only friend, putting up with his brat of a sister wouldn't be too much effort, would it?
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