Born Into It

Chapter Two: Happy Birthday Blaire

Blaire.
First and only child of Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper.
Possesses abilities she should not.
She will be taken.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaire's POV

"Happy Birthday."
My dad stood, smiling over my bed. He smiled the same excited, showy, nervous, smile he always did when he's found a great puzzle to solve and wanted my help.

"You've got a case, haven't you?" I asked, opening my eyes to see my father, awake, and in full Sherlock dress. Besides the hat, obviously.

"Pfft. Why would you think that?" He asked.

I sat up, yawning, "Because, I am the great daughter of Sherlock Holmes, and you've got your magnifying glass and a letter from Lestrade in your pocket." I noticed.

"Alright." he admitted, "I know, I said I'd give you a day off, but I could really use your...help."

I sighed, "I don't know...Its my birthday." I really didn't want to use my...special ability on today of all days. "Can't you work on it tomorrow?"

"Please, Blaire? It's a rather difficult case and your help would be invaluable." he pleaded.

"Tomorrow?" I again offered.

"We might not have time." he whined.

I sighed again.

"C'mon, I thought you liked it." he argued, sitting on my bed.

"I know. I do. I really do. I just...I don't want to use...my...ability." I explained, "I...I feel like a freak." I admitted.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." My dad told me, "It's a right good tool."

"It...it bothers me, that's all."

"Why? Don't you prefer it? It must be much better then the alternative."

"Well, yeah...obviously, but doesn't it bother you?"

"Why would it bother me?"

"I'm your daughter. You've known me 19 years, yet I'm still the only one mystery you've neglected to solve." I explained.

"I find it rather exciting. Never a dull moment, eh?" He smiled and put a hand on my cheek, "You definitely have your mother's eyes." He analyzed me with a strange seriousness.

"I miss her." I commented wistfully.

"I know." My dad said, "I do too."

We each looked over to the picture of my mum, Molly Hooper.

"So," I finally said, "I'll be down after I shower. We can head off to-"

I looked him over, awaiting deductions that naturally came to my father. I just didn't have his gift. Still, I tried.
"Bracknell?" I guessed. When it came to deductions I wasn't quite as confident as my father.

"You aren't looking." he criticized.

"Yes, I am."

"No...not really."

"Dad, I'll come with you, but you can't make me use the sight."

He didn't look convinced, and rightfully so. I could never last long without it.

He kissed my forehead, "I'll see you downstairs, Blaire."

He exited my bedroom.

----------------------------------

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had long, black, hair, and pale skin. My eyes were a light brown, just as my mother's had been. However my eyes were more than that.

I took a deep breath and did something I hadn't done for quite a while. I activated them. I activated my eyes. I fully activated my eyes. All I had to do was think and blink. I knew I shouldn't. I somehow just knew. It seemed wrong, unnatural. Oh, but I craved the sensation. To be able to see. To really see.

I opened my eyes and everything was intensified. I could notice tiny things; the lid on the toothpaste tube wasn't screwed on all the way, there was a dead fly in the corner behind the toilet, my hairbrush had been used by someone with lighter hair (probably my friend Kate). If I concentrated- If I really concentrated, I could make out fingerprints. It was amazing. I could see everything.

I forced myself to turn them off. For a moment I was completely blind. Then I partially activated my "eyes." My sight returned to normal.

I sighed and walked downstairs. I was living with my dad. I had no where else to go, so I helped out with cases. I loved it. I absolutely loved solving crimes. The thrill, the adventure, the challenge. In this respect I was much like my father.

I found him ready to go by the front door.

"What about breakfast?" I asked.

"We'll get it after." he decided.

"You seem confident that this will go swiftly."

"We make a good team." he winked.

He paused at the door. "Left Lestrade's letter upstairs. I won't be a moment." he ran upstairs. He called back, "Hail a cab will you? To-"

"Brentwood." I smiled, stepping out of the doorway.

I suddenly began to feel light headed. I sat down on the steps in front of 221b, where we still lived. I began to feel drowsy and laid down on the steps, clutching my dizzy stomach. Had I been poisoned? Drugged?

I felt my father's arms around me, "Blaire?! Blaire!" He called, but his voice seemed distant.

I fell unconscious.

---

I awoke in a white room. There was a man facing my opposite. He turned and I screamed.

"Moriarty?!" I asked.

"Oh yes." He replied, giving a mad smile.