Taking her Holmes phone out of the zippered pocket inside her jacket she texted Mycroft.

Coming up the back way. – M

The guards looked up at her, one was about to stop her before the other, a fellow she knew, grabbed his arm and shook his head. He pointed at something behind their desk. She knew it was a picture of her, with her name at it. She screamed silently, cursing Mycroft once again. Her picture should not be that easy for the world to see. She slid behind the corner and pushed a button that was placed low in the wall.

A door slid open to reveal a lift. A small flat screen popped out of the front. She placed her palm on the board, a blue light reading her handprint and the doors opened slowly. A sweet voice rang above her, Mycrofts new assistant. He was forever going through them. "Welcome Miss Holmes. Your brother is expecting you."

"Yes," Melaine drawled. "I'm well aware of that." How could he keep hiring these flippant women was beyond her.

The doors binged softly and slid open, she was in a hallway behind Mycrofts private office. She stopped, her hand shaking slightly as she turned the knob. John stood up as soon as she opened the door, he was slightly hunched over and the pain in his eyes was unbearable. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, then, taking a deep breath she walked in, closing the door behind her quietly.

"Right then," Mycroft stood, glanced at his sister and then back at John. In less then a moment Melaine was holding John in her arms, even though he was taller then her, he looked small today. "I'll give you two a few moments."

Melaine, who was every bit as smart as her brothers, and more deadly contained the one thing that they both lacked. A heart. Of course Sherlock had changed since he met John, and both brothers loved their sister and mother. But they had never gotten the hang of showing people how much they cared. He quietly let the room, knowing Melaine would do a much better job at fixing John then he ever could.

John gasped when she walked in. Her resemblance to Sherlock was more then he ever remembered. Though she was shorter then her brother, but quite a lot actually, and her eyes were purple and not greenish-blue like Sherlocks. They could almost be the same person, but he was not attracted to Sherlock as he was to Melaine.

He remembered when they first met, it was a few weeks after he had moved into 221B. She had quite literally rushed into the flat, obviously having her own key. Sherlock was gone one some flight of fancy or another and John was only in a very small towel. A grin was playing across her beautiful face and her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.

"You must be John!" she gasped, out of breath. "Is Sherlock here?"

"A…A…Are you his girlfriend?" he managed to stutter out. He knew he looked quite the fool with his hair sticking up everywhere.

"Heavens no!" she laughed, her voice was silky and sweet, almost like a purr. He wanted to listen to her speak forever. She walked over to him, or rather prowled, then circled him. He flinched when she ran a fingertip over the scar near his shoulder. "Was it really very bad over there?" her voice was hushed.

John stood straighter, the soldier in him coming out. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the details." She continued to run her fingers over his different scar, she sank to the floor and traced the scar on his leg. His breath hitched in his throat as he looked down as the mass o f curly dark hair, he began to blink quickly.

"For Gods sake Melaine," Sherlock came bursting in. "Leave John alone!"

John looked up at Sherlock, then down at the woman. Instantly he knew they were related. She jumped up gracefully and gave her brother a wicked grin. "What if John doesn't want me to leave him alone?" She trailed her fingers over the muscles in his arms. He bit on the inside of his mouth, his eyes locking on the wall behind Sherlocks head.

"You're making him uncomfortable," Sherlock sighed. "See! Its written all over his face, and he's as rigid as a bloody statue."

Melaine stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I shouldn't blink then? Should I?" John turned and stared down at her, his mouth slightly open. He had never desired a woman like this before.

"John, you're allowing my sister to turn you into a puddle on the floor," Sherlock glared at his sister. She just stuck her tongue out at him, then smiled sweetly at John.

"Right then," John turned stiffly away from her, wishing Sherlock would just leave. "I think I'll go change again. Wait!" he yelped. "Your SISTER!? Sherlock! She's your sister!" he looked down at the small girl. "You're his sister!" and pulled away from her as if she were on fire, sitting down quickly.

"Well now you've gone and done it Sher," Melaine sighed and sat gracefully into Johns lap. "Now I wont be able to play with him any longer." She looked back at John, arching her neck gracefully.

"He's not your toy Mel," Sherlock sat just as gracefully as she had, into his own sitting chair, holding his palms together as if in prayer, his dark curls falling into his eyes.

John didn't quite know what to do with himself, he was still in his towel mind you and his hands were awkwardly placed by his torso. He didn't know what to do with them. "Stop twitching Doctor!" Melaine gasped. "You can put your arms on the arm rests." So he did just that.

"So you're Sherlocks sister?" John cleared his throat, he felt Sherlocks eyes burning on him. But he didn't seem to care. Not when he was looking at her.

"Melaine Holmes," she smiled, her face lighting up. "The little sister they never tell anyone about. Sherlock is always saying he's the black sheep in the family," she glanced at her brother. "But really I am."

"She's really not," Sherlock shifted. "She has Mycroft," he paused. "And I guess myself as well wrapped around her finger."

"This one?" she held up her pinky finger and showed it to John. "That's Sherlocks finger," then she lifted her middle finger and frowned. "That's Mycrofts," and finally lifted her ring finger. "You can have that one."

"For GODS sake Melaine!" Sherlock jumped up and grabbed his sister by the arm. "Leave John alone. He doesn't want to play your silly little games!" He roughly pulled her up and thrust her into his own chair, then began pacing. "What American made you into this person?"

"You know perfectly well that it wasn't America or an American who made me this way," She hissed through her teeth, her eyes blazing, Sherlock flinched away. "We three are cut from the same cloth Brother of Mine. Look in the mirror. We are exactly the same."

Melaine stood up as Sherlock came towards her. John noticed there was something in Sherlocks eyes, a sadness he had never seen before. He wondered what the Holmes were like as children. Clearly Sherlock loved his sister.

Melaine shoved Sherlock as he tried to grab her into an awkward hug. "Just remember who pulled you out," she shifted on her heel, leaned down and kissed John on the cheek. "Nice to meet you Doctor, you do own this finger so you know." She trailed it lightly over the scar on his arm. Then turned and left the two men staring at her.