The Holmes' Sister

The Bunsen Burner.

Nothing happened the next few days, just the usual routine: Argue with Sherlock, Feed Ivory, Search for cases that are never there, and once again argue with Sherlock.  Unfortunately I haven't seen 'Anthea' since my abduction, so I haven't gotten the satisfaction of cutting her right hand off.  Although Sherlock continually asks Mycroft about the hand chopping, for he is entranced by the idea of a freshly cut off hand to experiment on.  Mycroft always says no to cutting the girl's hand off.  But I will, one day.  Hopefully.

"Anistyn."  Fingers snap in front of my face, and my eyes snap to the person with anger.

"What."  I snap at the person who seems to look a lot like Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"Where's Sherlock?"

"How should I know?  I'm not his babysitter, ask the cat."  I point towards Ivory, and the Detective looks at me with concern, "I was attempting to be sarcastic, obviously that was horrendous, and I'm never trying it again." 

"What are you doing here Lestrade?"  Sherlock opens the separator between the main room and the kitchen, then walks into the main room holding a cleaver looking bored.  I silently wonder what experiment he was doing.

"I am here to offer you a case."  Lestrade replies, looking carefully at the cleaver in Sherlock's grasp.  He holds the manilla folder out towards Sherlock, but I swipe it away from him, looking at it myself.

"Boring."  I hum.

"Dull."  I sigh.

"And all around unexciting."  I say in a bland tone, tossing the file back to Lestrade, "What was your first name again?"  I wonder aloud, out of plain curiosity.

"Graham."  Sherlock puts in, and Lestrade looks at him tiredly.

"Greg, it's Greg.  And keep the file, incase you do decide to figure it out."  He sighs, and leaves.  Sherlock turns to me.

"Five young adults, all 'friends', three women and two men.  Go to a cabin for a weekend, when they return one's missing; one woman.  The two other women said they were swimming in the lake, and the two men said they were looking for firewood.  Simple really."  I say, handing him a picture of the inside of the cabin that shows just one room:  a table with five chairs, a kitchen, sofa, and fireplace.  The oven was previously lit, and the chairs are out of place.  The fireplace was also was lit because of the ashes in it.  He nods in agreement to the easy case.

"I'm going to call Lestrade, and tell him I solved it."  I huff, and I walk to the kitchen, not wanting to be interrupted by Sherlock.  I dial him on Sherlock's mobile, since mine was somehow 'misplaced' as Sherlock put it.  I found the remnance of my beloved mobile in one of his many bunsen burners.  Burnt to a crisp.  Everyone gets bored some time or another so I can't exactly blame Sherlock that much, but he's buying me a new mobile.  I press the call on Lestrade's contact, and it rings.

"Yes Sherlock?"  He answers tiredly.

"Lestrade it's Anistyn, Sherlock burned my mobile."  I roll my eyes and look over to Sherlock who seems suddenly very interested in the floor.

"He wha- Nevermind that, what is it?"

"The youngest woman thought the missing one: a Jane Doe had a thing for her boyfriend- the youngest man -.  So they had a fight, the youngest knocked Jane Doe out.  She had to think fast and I bet you the fireplace was going, so she put Jane Doe in the fire, and threw the bones into the woods.  Surprised you didn't figure it out yet."  I swiftly say, surprisingly he kept up.

"Burned her?!  Well, we'll have a look to see if we find any bones, but for now thanks."  And with that he hung up, well I did, not wanting to have small talk.  I walk into the main room where Sherlock is still avoiding eye contact with me.

"Sherlock, I understand that you get bored, I do too.  Now go buy me a new mobile."  I order, and he opens his mouth like he's about to say something but thinks better of it for once and leaves the room.  I smirk and plop down into my chair, I love it when I have leverage against my brothers.  Smiling I get out a pencil and paper, writing various maths equations to keep my mind busy.  Soon enough Sherlock shuffles into the flat.  I turn around and look at him, then to the bag in his hands.

"Your back."  I greet him, holding my hand out for my new mobile.

"Yes I am, why are you doing maths?  I th-" 

"Sherlock, one way or another I have to keep my mind busy, I get bored too easily, like you, and I try not to take it out on the wall as often."  I state as Sherlock hands me a shiny new mobile, "Sherlock, this is better than my previous one."

"Well, you're my little sister."