Enola Holmes HIDDEN IRIS'

2 - You are being emotional

Sherlock's POV:

I stood in Enola's apartment, her usually organized house a mess from the attack.
I hadn't been able to think clearly, not since she was taken, cases like this were simple, I had gathered that the apartment was staged, I just couldn't find where she was truly taken, or who this Tristen Strot was, the fingerprints that covered the apartment matched him and another man who was unknown, along with a note, a calling card possibly, 'Good Luck'.
Coming back to 'the scene of crime' was supposed to refresh my brain, instead I found another person snooping in the dark.
Grabbing them by the shoulder, I easily pulled them back, throwing them to the floor, a scream escaped the female's lips, "Bloody hell!" The woman gasped, "That is no way to treat a lady!" She yelled at me, scrambling away from me before she kicked my shin.
I groaned, the pain coursing up my leg, sick of the 'fight' I grabbed her neck pulling her up and slamming her against the wall, "Who are you?" I asked, trying to see her through the darkness.
"Ow!" she proclaimed, taking a second before replying, "I suggest you let me go, unless you want to die?" I was about to scoff until I felt the sharp blade against my neck. I pressed harder into her neck testing her, a flash of light shining past the window causing my grip to loosen, her dark eyes familiar, "Sherlock?" She knew me.
Regaining my composure I felt her blade drop, tightening my hold again, "Who are y-" another flash of light allowed me to see her clearer.
Her features had sharpened, her hair no longer wild curls, it was tamed, straightened, her dark skin smooth and untouched, "Kindrea?"

Kindrea's POV:

Twelve and a half years ago...

I ran through the vast green meadow as Sherlock ran ahead, 'The game is not fair if you never get tagged' I shouted stopping my run as I panted, my curls coming loose from the ties hold.
Sherlock laughed, walking back to me but keeping enough distance so that I could not tag him, 'Just because you are slow doesn't mean you can't win,' he spoke with a cheeky tone.
I rolled my eyes, lifting my dress slightly, 'You do not have the challenge of running in a dress!' I explained, 'If I were in trousers I would be faster than you!' I giggled, 'You are sloppy when it comes to running, your legs are too long for your body,' Sherlock foreign hurt.
'Go get trousers and we shall see how fast you truly are,' Sherlock teased, taking a step forward, I rolled my eyes again, scoffing at his flirty behavior, 'You roll your eyes again and you might just see your brain,' he laughed, taking another step forward and grabbing my waist to lift me from the ground.
'Sherlock!' I yelled, a smile claiming my lips, 'You!' I hit his shoulder, 'Don't know how to treat a lady!' I laughed, I took another step forward, a plan formulating in my mind, I placed my hand on his chest staring into his eyes, those stupid blue eyes, they read every thought I held, 'Tag' I whispered.
Turning to run only for him to try to grab me, stumbling in the process and causing us both to fall, both of us laughing at the occurrence, 'The dress is a little annoying,' he blamed the ridiculous fabric for our fall.
I scoffed, my laughter leaving only the reminisce of a smile, 'It was your clumsy legs that made us fall, not my dress!' I claimed.

I pushed the man off of me, "What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, his tone expressing no emotion what-so-ever, just like I remember 'emotions cause mistakes' blah blah blah.
I rolled my eyes, turning back to him, "None of your business, Holmes," I hissed, heading to the door, I would come back for the panel when he left.
"You turn up at my kidnapped sister's home in the middle of the night, I think it is my business!" Sherlock revealed.
I groaned, Tewkesbury! I headed for the loose panel, "I didn't know it was your sister," I said plainly, yanking the panel back, I furrowed my eyebrows, what the hell? I pulled the board of wood from the gap, the crime board rolling out smoothly.
Her most recent case, the board was organized unlike my cluttered chaos of a crime board, "She was close," Sherlock smiled, "She never let me see her board, I could never find it," he chuckled to himself.
Moving me to the side he started to analyze the board, I pushed it back into the wall, glaring at the tall male, "This is my case!" I said through gritted teeth, "You came to a dead end, it's my turn," I pushed him lightly towards the door, "If I need help, I will gladly ask anyone else," I smiled sweetly.
Sherlock stopped letting me move him, staying in his place, "She is my sister, and I have already solved most of this case!" he scowled down at me.
I kept the smile on my face, "You're being emotional," I whispered through my grin, using his words against him, "Emotions cause mistakes," the recognition in his eyes was enough of a reaction to give me satisfaction, "Bye!" I gave him a little wave, walking back to look at Enola Holmes' crime board.
Sherlock opened the door, ready to take his next step out of the staged scene, I sighed, closing my eyes.
Why did he have to be Sherlock bloody Holmes? And why did I have to be the emotional one?
I caved into the empathy I felt for him, "Enola was investigating the disappearance of a girl," I called to him, my back towards the overly muscled man.
I heard the creak in the floorboards that told me he had stopped in his tracks.
Looking over Enola's board I saw where she was heading with the investigation, I saw where the kidnapper had taken the girl, only Enola hadn't concluded who took her, the clues lead too perfectly to each other, it was set so that Enola would be in the wrong place at the right time.
"Your sister found her," I lied to Sherlock, looking back to see those piercing blue iris' boring into my soul.
He could always read what I was thinking.
Or he used to be able to.