Disclaimer:I (sadly) own nothing that is included in any of my stories. All characters, names and copyrights belong to the fantastic writers of fantastic shows and are borrowed by myself for the enjoyment of readers on . All scenarios are a product of my (overactive) imagination and are purely for entertainment purposes; NOT for any personal monetry gain.
However I do own Cleopatra Holmes and her back story as she is my own creation.
Chapter Two
A day later Mrs Hudson was nervously pacing her lounge waiting for the faceless Cleopatra Holmes to arrive. Going by Sherlock and his brother Mycroft's behaviour she knew that there was a lot to be worried about in terms of Miss Holmes' character. Who would she take after? Would she be as changeable and socially unacceptable as Sherlock? Or like Mycroft, pompous and controlling? Or she could be a nightmarish collaboration of the two. Deep down in her mind Mrs Hudson hoped that Cleopatra was neither, her own normal person. Maybe that's why Sherlock had never mentioned her because she was too ordinary.
Suddenly the buzzer ran. Somebody was outside wanting to come in. Her heart hammering, Mrs Hudson answered the intercom.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mrs Hudson its Cleopatra"
Yes yet again she sounded normal but Mrs Hudson had learnt that she shouldn't judge a book by its cover. She wouldn't have known that just by his voice, her husband was a psychopath before she had met Sherlock.
"I'll let you in"
Mrs Hudson all but ran to the door from her downstairs flat to the front door wanting to know Cleopatra as soon as she could. Finally she opened the door and was astounded at what she found.
Cleopatra Holmes was the younger spitting image of her brother Sherlock. Her thin nineteen year old angular frame, dark mess of hair that was slightly longer than Sherlock's as it was just resting on her shoulders but was still sticking out horizontally with shed loads of hair spray, her eyes which were the same liquid silver that pierced into Mrs Hudson's soul. The only difference was that her bone structure was a little softer, more feminine that Sherlock's and so was her mouth.
She was wearing a black long coat almost the spitting image of Sherlock's but with gold buttons that reached down just past her knees, a grey suit vest top and jacket with black jeans and court shoes. Behind her she had a huge black suitcase that seemed to indicate she was staying for a long time.
"Mrs Hudson" said Cleopatra giving her a broad smile, Sherlock's smile snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Come in dear, you must be frozen" said Mrs Hudson ushering her in "just go straight up those stairs and you'll be in your brother's flat"
Once upstairs Cleopatra surveyed the living room belonging to her brother and his friend John Watson. There was a few items of furniture that she recognised as Sherlock's which he had back at their family home in Devon. Items such as the Skull painting on the wall and his desk that was cluttered with junk. Some items, such as the sofa and the two chairs she had never seen before.
"I apologise for the meson behalf of the men" said the old landlady "I try to tidy up but..."
"Sherlock always seems to untidy it I know from experience Mrs Hudson. I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this but I'm quite spontaneous like that" she smiled again and plopped herself on the leather sofa.
"So where is my dearest older brother?"
"He's gone out to dinner with John. A monthly thing, I think it's the only way he can get your brother to eat properly"
Cleopatra nodded, dropped her coat onto the sofa and made her way into the adjoining kitchen.
"Anything to eat I'm starving?" she declared
"I'm not sure dear, knowing your brother probably not. I'm glad that somebody in your family eats properly"
"Are you kidding me? This is the first piece of food I've eaten in three days"
"Why?"
"I never have time when studying"
Mrs Hudson had just turned away to hang Cleopatra's coat up when she heard a scream. She turned back to see the young adult sitting on the side of the table clutching her average sized chest.
"What is it?"
"I had forgotten my brother's habit of putting dead things in odd places. There's a female's head in the cupboard "
"What! I must remove it!"
"No don't do that, he's probably doing a delicate experiment on it."
An hour later Cleopatra was sitting once again on the sofa lounging and eating the cold pizza she found in the fridge when the door slammed shut and Sherlock's voice floated up.
"All I'm saying John is that the waitress could not have had the right experience to serve us that wine"
"That's no excuse for you to get us thrown out of the restaurant!"
"You enjoyed those chips didn't you?"
"Yes but that isn't the point"
"Causing trouble again brother?" said Cleopatra smirking at Sherlock's surprised face when he entered the room and saw his baby sister lying on the sofa.