The Other One *Editing*

Chapter 1 - Another Holmes

Sherlock could hear the scratching of a lock being picked followed by the soft patter of feet. Who was it? Not a client; no doorbell. Not John; too light a step. Not Mrs Hudson; she was staying at her sister's for the weekend. So, who?

As the footsteps reached the landing Sherlock moved over to the door and pulled it. "What are you doing here?" He said as soon as it swung open. A young girl was framed in the doorway. Despite the water running down her face she was grinning like Cheshire Cat. "Nice to see you too." The unknown guest said pushing past him into the room. She had a warm voice with a slight hint of a cockney accent. "Cool place you got here." She said, dumping a large rucksack on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock repeated, following her into the room.

"Weathers horrible isn't it?" She said, squeezing a stream of water out of her dark brown hair.

"Elizabeth Victoria Holmes why are you here?!" Sherlock shouted.

"Okay, okay! You're the great Sherlock Holmes," Elizabeth said, an eyebrow raised. "Make a deduction."

Sherlock closed the door and sat down. He glanced at her before saying, "Your train was at six twenty-seven right in the middle of rush hour, but you bought your ticket at midday. Then there's the state of your hair and clothes," he said gesturing at her as she pouted. "If you'd taken a taxi here or been in a nearby station, you'd be drier. So why would someone walk for so long in the rain? Because the streets were busier than the station. Big umbrellas, people rushing for shelter, who would notice you? You needed to stay hidden, so you wouldn't be followed; which means that our parents don't know you're here and neither does the school."

"As good as always." She said, a smirk creeping onto her face. "And still a show-off."

"So, you've run away, again."

"You could say that I suppose."

"Okayy." He said, his hands moving to his chin as his fingertips touched. Lizzie rolled her eyes, recognising this action as the end of the conversation. "Well since you seem to have lost the ability to speak to me, I'm going to get changed. As you so nicely pointed out I'm soaked." Sherlock was far too engrossed in his own thoughts to even notice Lizzie leave the room.

When she returned with her soggy clothes replaced Sherlock's back was to her. Sherlock was glaring out the misted window. "Don't even think about." Lizzie said, each word dipped in venom.

"Think about what?" Sherlock said, whipping round, hands behind his back. "You know what!" She said, her eyes narrowed. "If you call mum or the school I will run, Sherlock and you know I will." Sherlock looked into her eyes. They were green like his but brighter and stubbornly staring at him. "Fine but I've switched your phone back on," he said, passing it to her. "Mycroft knows you're here." Lizzie didn't say anything. Just snatched her phone off him and curled up on the sofa, flipping her hood up as she did.

Mycroft turned up within ten minutes to find his siblings staring at each other, Sherlock cross legged on the coffee tables. "So, has she's said why she came here?" He said, looking at Lizzie. She gave him a small slide glance before returning to her staring match.

"Mmm mmm." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head slowly; not breaking the glare from his sister's eyes. They carried on their conversation trying to engage Lizzie, but she didn't say a word. "Why is she ignoring us?" Mycroft huffed.

"Angry? Or," Sherlock said, leaning forward and pulling down Lizzie's hood. She looked up as if just noticing they were talking to her, pulling out one headphone.

The sound of indistinct music blared out as she said, "You two aren't as smart as you think you are." Mycroft and Sherlock looked at each other, stunned, before looking back at her. "Mycroft." She said, nodding her head towards him. "Elizabeth." He nodded back. "So why have you run away this time?"