I do not own Sherlock, or its characters, they belong to their respected owners. I only own my OC and any other I chose to introduce on the future.

Just so people know, this will not be a Sherlock/OC. It's a Mycroft/OC but with a very close Sherlock/OC friendship.

Enjoy :)

Ice Man No More

Waltzing up the stairs, Mrs Hudson led Kate up the stairs to the door labelled 221B. Kate suddenly felt incredibly excited, it was the first time in, god, eight years that she would be seeing John again. She could not believe that it have been that long, for not long before she went to university, John was deployed to Afghanistan, which worried her a lot. They wrote almost every week, but it didn't stop the constant feeling that the next time she saw him it would be in morbid circumstances. She shook the thought from her head, and remained thankful that he was home safely, even though he did get shot. But he was alive, ad that was what mattered.

"Hoo hoo" This made Kate laugh a little as Mrs Hudson knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a reply.

"There's a lovely young woman here to see you." Mrs Hudson said with a smile, she wanted to see his reaction when he saw his sister. Stepping into the flat, Kate scanned the room quickly. It was a decent size for a flat, quite dark too. The walls were painted a variety of dark browns, reds and purples and over on the far wall was an old fireplace made of wood and stone and above it on the mantel piece was a skull, a dagger pinning some letters to the wood, a standing clock and some loose change. Kate had learned to be extremely perceptive to her surrounds throughout her police training.

Turning her attention back to the arm chairs, she saw two men sitting in either of them. One was John, who was sitting reading the paper in the red chair with his metal crutch resting against it, and opposite him was a man who was aimlessly plucking at the strings of his violin. That must be Sherlock. He looked exactly like John had described him. Abnormally high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes with extremely pale skin and a sweeping cupid's bow.

John turned at Mrs Hudson's announcement. Kate smiled at him, he looked exactly the same as he did when he left, only now his normally sandy hair had a few stray strands of grey in, possibly from age or stress. His blue eyes widened as he clapped eyes on her and his straight mouth pulled into a massive grin.

"Kate!" He almost shouted and leapt from his chair to hug her, forgetting his crutch. Sweeping her up in a huge embrace, Kate laughed at how although he was almost nine years older than her, she appeared to be the elder.

"Hey big bro." She said, hugging him back twice as hard.

He pulled away and held her at arm's length, a mix of surprise and happiness on his face. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you were going to be here for another couple of weeks."

"I got an early reassignment. Thought I would surprise you."

Mrs Hudson was in the background, busying herself, making an extra cup of tea for Kate. Sherlock however, had still not moved or acknowledged her presence, or even blinked since she had entered the room. "Job well done." He laughed.

"Sherlock, do sit up and put down that blasted violin!" Mrs Hudson scolded him as she set down the tea set on the coffee table by the sofa. "You have a guest." Sitting down on the sofa, John limped to collect his crutch and joined her and made her a fresh tea. Sherlock had done as his landlady had instructed and had abruptly stopped plucking the string and placed the violin down on the side table next to him. He was now fixed on staring at Kate, which was quite unnerving.

"Young. Well ish. Probably about twenty two, twenty three. Graduated from university not too long ago, and looking at the slight tan of your skin more than likely somewhere warm or with a coast line, like Bristol or Kent. Your appearance alone can tell me your occupation. Blond hair, naturally curled, no colour added within the past six months, more or less, tweezed brows and the lesser than the norm make up that most woman wear, you've gone for eyeliner and lipstick whereas most woman wear about ten times that. So you care about your appearance, but not so much that it becomes an obsession, but still enough that you still care to look presentable. Possibly a teacher. You're obviously John's younger sister, all you have to do is look at the nose and mouth for any obvious signs of relation. More the fact that he has not stopped bringing you up in every conversation he feel necessary to have. And not to mention the height and weight, virtually the same as John, smaller than most women your age and a little heavier too."

"Sherlock!" John hissed, glaring at his flatmate.

But yet he pressed on. "By my pointing that fact out, I can sense some hostility in both you and John, judging by the way you've suddenly straightened up I'd say some tragic childhood memories are involved. Bullying more than likely, oh people can be cruel can't they?"

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that had crept into the room. John was torn between glaring at his flatmate in disbelief or passing his baby sister apologetic glances on his behalf. Sherlock was still and emotionless. Had he even realized that he had just summed up her whole childhood in a single word? Bullying. All through her childhood, Kate was every bully's dream, she was not fat, but because she had freckles and braces and a liked to do thing like read, god forbid she liked to read, and the fact that she was not unhealthily skinny, people just seemed to target her.

"Yeah, they can." Kate said taking a sip of her tea before setting it down and standing from the sofa. "Thanks for the tea Mrs Hudson, but I think I'd like to unpack now." She said rather quietly and the landlady left the room to go and prepare Kate's flat for her. "Thanks for letting me stay John." She looked across the room as she made her way to the door. "And by the way Sherlock, I'm twenty-six, a graduate from the University of Edinburgh and I am not a teacher but a police officer." She approached the consulting detective and stood in front of him, he too rose to meet her, a sign of respect maybe?

Wow. Kate thought, she'd never realized exactly how tall he was. Now she knew how her brother felt. As he towered over her, she stuck out her hand. "Detective Superintendent Kate Watson."

John held his breath. His sister was never one for being tactful, in a way she was like Sherlock, once she got started there was no stopping her. Sherlock stared at her hand for a few seconds before finally taking her hand and slowly shaking it. "Sherlock Holmes - Consulting Detective."

And then she was gone, down the stairs to her new home, John turned to Sherlock and looked quite furious. And with good right to. "I don't know what the hell just happened but one thing Sherlock, that's all I bloody asked. All you had to do was to be nice or at least pretend to be civil. Can you not even manage that?!" And off he went, after his sister to make sure she was okay, as after all most people felt a little bit victimized after on of Sherlock's deductions.

John found Kate in the living room on 221C, unpacking her suitcase and sorting them into separate piles of clothing. He knocked on the door frame quietly and took one look at the expression on her face before moving to give her another hug. She did not look upset or even pissed off, in fact he couldn't exactly tell what she must have been feeling.

Kate sighed heavily as she rubbed his back, like he used to do to her when she was upset as a child, she felt exhausted from her long morning travelling and she was starving. "You okay?" John asked with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Surprisingly yes."

John held her at arm's length again and cocked a brow. "Really? Because most people who go through that" He pointed in the direction of upstairs. "Often feel like either killing him or running and hiding."

Kate laughed at this, she'd always loved how dramatic John could be. "Honestly, I'm fine. Yes it did annoy me how blunt he was but I still can't get over how he knew all that."

John shook his head. "I have no idea. Within seconds of meeting him, he could tell that I'd been to Afghanistan by my haircut and tan." They both laughed and Kate looked around at her new flat. It was nice. Lovely and homely. The walls were painted a pale yellow and green, with contrasting dark furniture. The living room was basically furnished, with a cream and blue fabric sofa and a matching arm chair with a dark side table and coffee table. The kitchen was quite small, but still large for the size of the flat, it was fully fitted with a fridge, cooker and counters; in the centre of the room was a round table with four chairs around it.

As she looked into her kitchen, she realized that she had no food what so ever. "I would offer you a cup of tea or a biscuit but I have nothing in."

John grabbed her coat and handed it to her, "Come on. Let's go for a coffee and a catch up, then I'll take you shopping afterwards." He help Kate with her coat before walking into the hallway to collect his from the hook by the front door.

"Give me a second John, I left my purse upstairs." Kate said as she was already halfway up the stairs. She entered the living room again and saw that it was empty, much to her surprise. Spying her purse on the coffee table next to her discarded tea, she grabbed it and made to leave but almost collided with a dark figure behind her.

"Oh sorry Sherlock!" Kate composed herself, smoothing a loose curl back behind her ear. "I didn't see you there."

"I realise now that my earlier actions were inappropriate and frankly uncalled for." He told her in a deep voice that surprised Kate, he did not look like his voice should be that deep. "I apologize for that, and I suppose I should say that I am rather glad that you will be staying here."

Now that was a turn of events. Kate cocked her brow, "You are?"

"Of course." He stated in a matter of fact way.

"Are you just saying this because John shouted at you?"

"Partly." He stated before walking away and picking up his violin to play. Kate listened for a while, he was good, amazing in fact. She walled pulled back by John shouting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Shouting a goodbye to Sherlock, who was too busy composing and drifting around the room to acknowledge her closing the door behind her.