Sisterly Love (BBC Sherlock) (Johnlock)

The Unexpected Arrival

(John's POV)

The rain was falling in sheets as John darted from the taxi. Carrying grocery bags in both hands, he started to try to get the key from his pocket to unlock the door of the flat he shared. But he stopped when he noticed that the lock was broken and the door opened a crack. Cautiously, John opened the door and started up the steps.

When he opened the door, he immediatly noticed a figure sitting in Sherlock's chair. With curly, brown locks and a dark trenchcoat, he first thought it was Sherlock himself. But the moment that figure opened its mouth, John knew otherwise.

"You're not Sherlock," observed the bright, feminine voice.

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Sherlock scowled upon entering and seeing the girl. "What are you doing here?!" he exclaimed, looking immediatly at John for an explanation, like he'd brought her here.

"Don't look at me, she was here when I came home. She said she was a friend of yours," John attempted.

Sherlock sighed, his eyes not leaving her. "More than a friend, John. This woman is my sister."

John's mouth dropped. "Sister?! Since when did you have a sister?!"

She tutted before saying to Sherlock, "I can't believe it? You've never even told your boyfriend about your own sister?"

"I'm not his boyfriend," John answered reflexively. "In fact, I have a girlfriend."

"No, you don't," she said. "She broke up with you today. You didn't quite get it, being the whole 'we should take a break' thing, but she most definetly did."

John sighed. "Should I bother asking you how you knew that?"

She smiled. "I knicked your phone." True enough, she then pulled his phone out of her pocket and handed it to him.

"Ok, who are you?"

It was Sherlock who answered. "Her name is Elizabeth Holmes. Though you might know her better by her alias, Leah Reyes."

John's eyes widened. "/The/ Leah Reyes? From Britian's Most Wanted?"

She smirked. "My eldest brother is the British government, my second brother is the greatest detective to walk the earth. What did you expect me to be? A housewife? Anyway, friends call me Lizzy. And you are?"

"John Watson, ex-army doctor," he answered, warily shaking her hand.

Lizzy smiled and leaned forward, pulling his hand so he had to do the same. "Pleasure to meet you, John," she said in a low, seductive tone. John had to repress a shiver of desire.

Sherlock cleared his throat across the room, and she let go of his hand and straightened. He waited for a moment before saying, "You never answered my question. What are you doing here?"

She smiled innocently. "Do I have to have a reason to visit my dear old brother?"

He stared at her without responding.

Lizzy sighed. "I've gotten into some... trouble recently. The kind that you tend to specialize in."

He looked at me. "Would you mind leaving the room for a moment, John?"

John gave him a look that clearly said 'are you serious' but reluctantly left the room.

(Sherlock's POV)

Sherlock sat down in the armchair across from hers, letting her continue.

"Somebody employed a group of eight, including me, to 'take care' of a few people. After we completed the job, however, he started have each of us killed to cover his tracks. Five of the original eight are now dead."

He regarded her coldly. "How is this my problem?"

Lizzy allowed her tone to become almost pleading. "This person, whose identity I don't know, is after my life, Sherlock. What I need is for you to find him and stop him."

He let out a single, hard laugh. "You accepted an assassination job from an unknown employer? What on earth could have possessed you? Was the money good?" he asked ruthlessly.

Her eyes narrowed as she muttered, "There wasn't exactly a choice given in the matter."

Sherlock frowned, thought silently for a moment, then answered, "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but I can't help you."

Lizzy gasped as though she could not have possibly imagined getting that response. "Can't? You mean you won't?"

His gaze remained on the floor. "I refuse to be dragged into the middle of this problem you have created for yourself. If you want protection, you should go to Mycroft. Besides, I'm sure you are perfectly capable of handling it yourself."

She glared at him with a furiously hurt expression for a full minute before she commented, "You and John seem to have a close relationship."

His eyes snapped to hers, but he feigned a calm chuckle. "Is that the best you've got?"

She grinned a bone-chilling grin, as though she'd already seen enough in that one response to reach a conclusion. "It is enough."

After a moment of silence, her features relaxed into a pleading expression. "If you insist on not helping me, will you at least let me stay here for a few days?"

"Why?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Because I had to leave my previous residence in a hurry, and I have no where else to stay."

"But where would you even sleep?"

"She could sleep in my bed," John said, walking back into the room. "I mean... um... with me on the couch, not... you know."

Sherlock eyed him suspiciously. "Were you listening?"

"Of course not. I only was walking back in when I heard that last part."

Lizzy smiled John, then at Sherlock innocently. "So it's settled, I'll sleep in John's bed!"

Before he could come up with a response, he noticed Lizzy lean in and whisper something in John's ear that caused him to blush. He had to bite the inside of his lip to maintain an emotionless exterior as he got up and began to rosin his bow.

Lizzy glanced at Sherlock before she smiled at John and asked, "So is somebody around here going to have the decency to take me out to lunch? I am famished!"

John smiled back and opened the door. "After you."

She spared Sherlock a smug look before she walked out the door with John, /his/ John, following close behind her.

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Author's Note: So what do you think? Please comment your thoughts! I look forward to hearing your opinion!