A young girl, around the age of 19, walked briskly up the door of one 221b Baker Street and knocked. She impatiently waited another 5 minutes before knocking again, rather displeased that the door had been not opened sooner. Finally a short man opened the door, stared at her for a slight moment. "Can I help you?" the girl nodded and looked him over once before speaking. "Doctor Watson I presume. Yes, indeed…" It seemed she was talking more to herself and then she looked him in the eye and continued. "I need to speak to Sherlock." The man, Doctor Watson, took a step back in surprise and then regained his composure and shifted so he blocked the doorway just a bit. "Who are you?" The girl smirked a bit and took her delicate hands out of the confines of her coat. "An interested party. May I please speak to him?" The good doctor bit his lip before nodding and letting her in. "I suppose so."

The girl quickly went up the stairs toward the apartment and Doctor Watson followed. "How did you know he lived here?" The good doctor was trying to get answers but sadly was asking the wrong questions. "It's on the website, of course. He really should be more careful about what he puts online." Watson nodded in response and watched the girl intently as she opened the door to find Sherlock sawing away at his violin.

"Not in a good mood I see Sherlock. Is a case giving you a bit of trouble?" She stated it bluntly and Sherlock looked up at the visitor for a second before going back and sawing one last note out. "Why are you here?" The girl didn't look offended in the least and simply smiled back at him. John used this opportunity to try and figure out what he wanted. "Who is this Sherlock?" Sherlock simply ignored him and focused his attention on the girl. She, in response, sat down on the couch and took her coat off. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and put his hands together in their chapel position. "I came to check up on you. Mycroft's been a bit worried, per usual." The girl finally answered. Sherlock scoffed and leaned back in his chair, motioning for John to sit down. The girl smiles a bit before leaning back into the couch. "I'm not getting kicked out anytime soon then. How nice. I had rather thought that saying 'Mycroft' would earn me a seat on your stoop." Sherlock laughed a bit and shook his head. "That would be rather irrational of me, wouldn't it?" The girl smiled. "Oh yes, I keep forgetting you're the kinder one of my brothers."

If John hadn't been sitting he would have fallen down. "You're his sister, then?" He shook his head. " …I should have seen that coming, she said the same thing Mycroft said to me when I first asked him who he was." The girl, Sherlock's sister smirked. "Oh yes, I thought that was a nice touch. Shame you didn't notice it earlier." Sherlock nodded "You must forgive him Enola, sometimes he's as stupid as everyone else." The girl smiled. "Oh now now Sherlock, he's much brighter than most." John beamed at the comment but then swallowed the grin and regained his composure.

John tilted his head. "Sorry, not to be rude, but why the hell would your mother give you all such strange names?" Enola looked up "Well I can't explain Sherlock and Mycroft, but mine I can explain. When I was born our father had already left. It was just me, mummy, Sherlock and Mycroft. Mycroft was off gallivanting about trying to become the British Government and Sherlock was just being himself. Since you can spell you know Enola is alone spelled backwards. Mother must have felt very smart, probably like a fortune teller in her own mind."

John looked at her and didn't know what to say, so he turned to Sherlock. "I don't have an explanation for my name or for Mycroft's so you can just assume that the woman wanted to torture us." Enola scoffed at this before abruptly standing. "You tortured her just as much big brother. Now, I want tea…" She stood up and turned sharply on her heel and gracefully went into the kitchen. She glanced at experiments on the kitchen table and shook her head. "What a mess you made Sherlock." She examined the chemicals for a moment and then straightened up. "Sherlock." She shook her head, "it was whoever is allergic to bananas." Enola smirked and went to the cabinets to get a teabag. She stopped just short of the knob and drew her hand back. "I can smell the decomposing flesh from here." She walked back to the couch and sat gracefully, crossing her legs at the ankle. "One day you'll get you're blogger killed, big brother."

A/N – so I've never written anything for Sherlock as you can tell. It's my new obsession. And then I remembered that I used to read this book about Sherlock having a sister, yeah yeah so I decided to throw her in there because the idea intrigued me. I'll give you a full description of her in maybe a later story because 3 million ideas are bouncing around in my head. So cheers, hope you kinda maybe liked it and I'm sorry if Sherlock and John are out of character. Review maybe to help me get better? I've been trying to grasp how to write them but it's hard…so yeah constructive reviews would be simply lovely. Thanks.

Edit: Alright guys so Enola's age is 19. For the age difference between Mycroft and Sherlock I'm going to go with ten years apart and…I fixed up the chapter, the old one just wasn't up to par. This story will just be a collection of stories, in no real order most likely