a/n: Thanks for the reviews :) I'm still not sure how far I'll get with this one. Depends on what you guys think of it so far.

Review please!

Enjoy~

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Cordelia Holmes was perched on the chair her brother sat in most often, eyeing the two men in front of her with great interest. Sherlock had been in the same position for over two hours now, which she was comfortably used to by now. Even as a child, her brother had taken up the same stance. Fingers pressed together like praying, but she knew it was far from that.

Lia's gaze travelled over to other man, the one that interested her most. Sandy brown hair ruffled to part to one side, worry lines creasing his forehead as he continued to read the newspaper in those strong, military hands. The doctor wore a creamy white cabled jumper, and she could tell by some worn threads that he loved it a lot. A gift then? Probably from his sister. Ah, yes, his sister. Lia noticed the slight tired look in his eyes, meaning his sister wasn't doing so well the past couple of days. Bright, blue eyes met hers and she locked onto them quickly. The past couple of hours since she had met him – he hadn't said a word to her and avoided her curios gaze. Now she had him locked. Focusing on the ocean colored eyes, Lia felt a rush of emotions all at once. Worry, obviously, she had just deduced that from just his facial expression. But then there was a wave of anxiety, a hint of compassion, and-

He broke eye contact, but Lia had already sensed it.

Jealousy.

Lia's lips quirked into a content smile, and she finally sunk back into the chair. Jealousy was always a curious trait in people – with just a thread of jealousy; it could turn into a battle, a war. And she was always up for a war.

"Dr. Watson?" Lia mused, and in return got a quirked brow from the man in question. "You should call your sister if you're so worried about her."

A long, dramatic sigh escaped from her brother's lips. It basically meant for her to shut the hell up. She ignored it.

Dr. Watson merely blinked at her, shock clearly laced in his emotions, but he had a knack for hiding those when he wanted to. "My sister? How did you know I had a- wait, how did you know I was worried…"

He stopped mid-sentence, shock fading from his gaze. Lia could just sense his thoughts being pieced together and finally saw it click in his eyes. "Oh, right."

"Cordelia, why don't you go bother Mycroft." Sherlock muttered from his place on the sofa. "Obviously John is feeling quite uncomfortable with you here-"

"Oh, brother, nonsense. Dr. Watson enjoys my company." Lia gave the doctor a small smile. In response, a faint blush flourished his cheeks and he stared at the floor.

"Cordelia."

Lia looked over at her brother and was met with a controlled glare. She clenched her jaw in protest, but all he did was raise an eyebrow. She loved Sherlock, she really did. For Heaven's sake, he was family. But even Mycroft was nicer to her – he spoiled her when they were younger.

Being the youngest in the family had its ups and downs she guessed.

John watched Cordelia leave the flat, her black coat whirling behind her. He stared at the door for a couple seconds longer, hearing the downstairs door shut firmly as she left.

The doctor drummed his fingers along the arm of his chair and then got enough courage to steal a glance in Sherlock's direction.

The consulting detective was sitting up – when had he sat up? Their gazes locked, and finally the other man sighed. "Okay, you have questions."

A smile touched John's lips, his words bringing up memories. He shook his head a little. "No questions. I'm just…confused."

"You're wondering why I or Mycroft never told you about our sister, the youngest Holmes sibling. That's precisely why."

John blinked and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He tried again. "I don't really see what's wrong with her, to be completely honest."

His statement was met with utter silence and he realized it was the wrong thing to say. Sherlock stood up and climbed over the table, walking directly over to his flat mate. "She is always up to no good – it's annoying. Cordelia has always caused trouble for Mycroft and I, along with my mother." He huffed. "It's as if she doesn't know how to put her talents to good use – it's maddening. I always have to clean up after her mistakes." With a quick look at John's raised eyebrows, he continued on. "Of course you wouldn't know this – you just met the girl. And I hope this is all you see of her – she is to stay at Mycroft's flat until her leave, and not to disturb our work."

John waited a few seconds and when he felt it was safe, he laughed a little. "You really don't get along with your family, do you."

Sherlock pursed his lips. "I would rather not talk of her anymore." He grabbed a folder off of the desk and practically threw it at the other man. "These are the details of our victim's past connections. I need you to look through them."

"What? Why can't you?" John protested, though he was already opening the folder.

"Too busy. I'm thinking."

As Sherlock walked off to the kitchen, John's thoughts trailed to Cordelia. She didn't seem that bad, he thought. But from his experience with the consulting detective and the brother who practically controlled the British government, John knew there was more to Cordelia than just a pretty face.

Sherlock's phone buzzed once, indicating he had gotten a text. John glanced over his shoulder and watched the raven-haired man pull his eyes from his microscope and to the cellphone's screen. He visibly paled.

John closed the folder and threw it carelessly back on the desk. He made his way over to the kitchen. "Sherlock? What's wrong?"

The ex-army doctor took the phone, reading the text and tried his very best not to laugh.

Cordelia will be staying with you. -MH