Ah yes, the story behind her name. There isn't one. Perhaps not yet, but the name just came to my mind and I decided to name her that.
The words echoed in his mind. 'John, this is my younger sister'
"What —?" He was certainly very confused now, "No, y-you never said anything about a sister"
"Yes, my darling sister is still studying. The last thing she needs is for the world to know that one of her brother's a consulting detective and another is the British Government"
John looked at her properly for the first time and noted that she looked a bit like a cross between Sherlock and Mycroft. She was not very tall, about 5'1 but she had a good shape and build for her height — not too thin or too large, just an hourglass-shaped-in between. She was dressed in a dark purple sweater with a pair of dark jeans and worn converse, the opposite of the usually immaculately dressed Sherlock. Her dark hair contrasted with her fair skin which only brought out the blue in her eyes more.
"Are you done examining her John?"
He coloured slightly, coughed and offered his hand, "John Watson, but you already know that"
"Bytha Holmes. Sorry, I don't," She avoided his hand while she cleared her throat, "Now that all the niceties are over, care to help me set my things in order brother? I doubt you could do it telepathically from here"
"The human mind knows no bounds. Especially mine"
"Yeah, so does your pride"
To John's surprise, instead of growling or grumbling, Sherlock chuckled. He followed his younger sister down the stairs to the flat in the basement and John trailed after him.
'Bytha Holmes. Ha. I would have expected no less from a Holmes. They do seem to have an affinity for peculiar names. Mycroft, Sherlock, Bytha'
221C was dusty and stuffy with boxes piled here and there. Light was streaming in through the thin curtains creating little pale yellow squares on the faded carpet. He followed them into the living room — the same living room where Moriarty left his little 'present' for Sherlock.
"So this is the room you were telling me about," she said, "From what I've read on John's blog, it seemed like you had a lot of fun on that case,"
"Yes that was rather amusing, it's a shame what happened to the people in the flat. Although, I did in fact, solved the case,"
"Sherlock, that's not really the point," she began. John's thoughts of finally having a normal, feeling Holmes in the family was shattered when she continued.
"But oh well, people do tend to die. Next time you have a case, bring me along okay? I've been so awfully bored, I'm glad I moved to London for my Masters — far more exciting. And who better to bring crime to the doorstep than my detective brother?" she smiled.
Bytha went about pulling out some photo frames and setting them out on the mantel. Sherlock picked one up which looked like her and a close friend hugging in a park somewhere and he gave her a questioning look. She shook her head sadly, took it from his hands and stared at it for awhile before setting it back on the mantel. Her mood seemed to have dampened considerably. John mentally noted to ask Sherlock about that. They had finished unpacking all the boxes labelled 'kitchen' when she thanked them for their help and insisted they go back up to 221B. John took the hint she wanted to be left alone and escorted Sherlock back upstairs despite his protests. In the safety of their flat, Sherlock began to complain.
"John," he said irritated, "She still has many boxes to go, why did you drag me up here?"
"Sherlock, you twat, you can't even tell when your own sister is upset,"
"Upset? She looked perfectly fine to me,"
"Yes, that's because you're an insensitive bastard,"
At that, he gave John a long hard glare.
"The photograph, Sherlock," he said patiently, "What's the story behind it? Why was she so unsettled about it?"
"Kate," he mumbled.
"I'm sorry?"
"Kate, her best friend. She went missing over two years ago,"
"No one's been able to find her?"
"Of course not, John! If not she wouldn't still be missing," he snapped.
This was obviously a sensitive subject to touch upon and John didn't want to press it, although he was very curious. Sherlock sighed.
"Mycroft and I haven't been able to do anything about it. And Bytha can't help but feel a little guilty for her disappearance,"
"Why?"
"Because she led the kidnapper to Kate,"
