Chapter 1- Hamish

I stare up the grand steps to my new academy. It's my first day at a new school of my junior year, and already I have a bad feeling. The last place I went was an all boy's, and I was pulled out for being bullied. Having two dads didn't seem to be acceptable to any of the young men there. Uncle told my dad that this school would be a better fit for me, since there's girls here too. I hope he's right.

"Have a nice day." John says as I jump out Sherlock didn't bother to show up, which is probably a blessing in disguise. He's always deducing people to a sniveling mess. Don't get me wrong, he taught me all his tricks, but deducing people aloud can seem rude.

The hallways harbor looks of curiosity; my first period class is my salvation. Advanced Placement Chemistry sounds like a good course to start the year on. The teacher, Professor Black, pairs us up, wanting for us to "meet new people", or some other malarky. She paired me with a brunette girl, and she's actually quite attractive. Who am I to complain?

I extend my hand in offerance. "I'm Hamish."

She accepts. "Sabrina." Her smile only confirms my deduction that I like her.

Chem. was a ton of note-taking the first day. I already knew all of the topics covered. Will all my classes be this easy? Prof. Black promised that we'd "get into the lab next week". Boy I hope so. I actually didn't mind the note-taking. I was quietly chatting with Sabrina the whole time. Apparently she was adopted (deduced that one first) by her two dads (hey, I have a pair of dads also!). Another thing I learned is that her flat is near where I live, so I suggested that we study Chem. together sometimes, although it's clear we don't need to study. She agreed, however, and we exchanged numbers.

My other classes were easy and dull. Calculus, Advanced European History, Advanced Literature, and Political Science; all of them Pre-College classes. I doubt John was surprised when he picked me up.

"How was your day?"

"Regular. Well, I know what a regular day will feel like." I reply as I hide a grin and pull out the square of paper with Sabrina's number on it.

Too bad Sherlock noticed my happiness when we got home.

"What's her name?" He asked as I walked through the living room, barely looking up from his novel.

"Who's name?" John asked, engaging the worried parent button that I swear is programmed inside everyone except Sherlock.

"It's just a girl I met in Chem. today," I say defensively. "Her name is Sabrina."

They don't ask me any further questions. I am grateful.

Chapter 2- Sabrina

I never mind the walk home. Along with observing people, it gives me time to think about things. Plus, nobody will mess with me, since I have a handgun, a knife, and pepper spray in my bag at all times. Father and Papa say it's precautionary, but I like to think that I have the career that either of my dads have. I'll inherit Father's business someday, anyway.

Stepping into the contemporarily-decorated flat, I notice that Father is working from home today. Don't ask how I know. If Jim Moriarty is in a room, you better believe that he'll make his presence known.

"Sabrina, darling? Good afternoon. How was school?" he asks. There's the standard father-daughter greeting: a half-hug, a quick peck on the cheek, something to make his affection feel genuine.

"Lovely, thank you. Will Papa be joining us tonight, or-?"

"Sebastian is out for the evening, so tell the cook it's just us too tonight."

"Alright." Sometimes Papa went on business trips unexpectedly. Well, Father knew about them, but I didn't.

Dinner conversation is usually polite and customary, until Father sets down his napkin.

"So," he begins. "I hear you have a little suitor."

I sigh. "Father, I thought you dismissed the spy from such a service."

He shrugs. "There's more than one way to acquire information. So, who is he?"

No sense in turning back now. "His name is Hamish. He's new to the academy."

"Is there a last name he gave you?"

"He didn't give it to me, but I saw it on his notebook. It's Watson-Holmes."

Father's face is a blank slate, a terrible sign. "Sabrina," he finally says quietly. "Do you know Hamish's parents?"

"He has two fathers, but he didn't name them."

I fear Father will burst.

"Sabrina, darling, remember that story about the difficult man i had to deal with? Remember Sherlock Holmes?"

I stand up, then sit back down. It can't be. "But- but that's not- I didn't think he'd have a son. Oh, man." There's no way Father will let me date Hamish now.

"Exactly. So why don't you read some of your book, and let me take care of this?"

"No!" I say almost too quickly. "I mean, don't blame him for something he didn't do. It wasn't meant to happen. A minor mishap, if you will."

Father gives me a suspicious look. "Fine then. You end it, or I'll end him."

Chapter 3- Hamish

My phone buzzes. It says Sabrina's calling me. I go into my room and shut the door for privacy.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Hamish. It's Sabrina. From Chem?"

I try to sound casual "Hey. What's up?"

"Well, it's just that-" She stops. I think I can hear muffled sobs from the other end. Why is she crying?

"Sabrina? You okay?"

"I- I don't think we can be lab partners. I don't even think I can ever see you again. It's too dangerous."

"Why would us seeing each other be dangerous?"

"Because they'll try to kill you."

"What? Who's 'they'?"

"I just learned that my father and your father are sworn enemies. If we're together, both my dads will try to murder you."

"Wait, are you telling me that you're the daughter of Moriarty? The criminal mastermind?"

"Yes, yes. And your fathers despise my fathers as they do yours."

We're silent for a moment. Sabrina's obviously upset about this. I can't say I'm too happy either. She's the first person aside from my family that I actually care for. She's how I always pictured the princess in the fairy tales Sherlock told me when I was little. Not to mention her enthralling personality. How can I never see her again?

"So," she finally says. "what do we do?"

I try and analyze all of the options we have. But then I realize that I have no other options. My heart ruled my head one time, and if that's enough to anger Jim Moriarty, I'm about to dance with death. If I fell in love in just a day, there will be no easy way out. Good. I didn't want to make this easy for anyone anyway.

"I'm not giving you up." I decide.

"But, our fathers-"

"If you feel what I think you feel for me, which I know I feel for you, then we can't let our parents rule our decisions."

"Are- are you saying you love me?" She asks quietly. I can almost hear the scandal in her voice.

"Yes, I think I am. I love you."

"The feeling's mutual."

"We'll think of something, I promise."

We said goodnight and hung up.

I didn't sleep much that night.

Chapter 4- John

Sherlock and I pull up to a nice hotel. We received a note requesting that we arrive at the Posh at 10:30 sharp. I had no idea as to whom sent it, but Sherlock obviously knows. Apparently sharing that information with me wasn't necessary.

A bellhop waves us over. We are handed the key to room 320 as discreetly as possible, and then the boy flees the scene.

Room 320 is set up like a meeting room. There's swivel chairs and a giant table. And to top it all off, there's a consulting criminal with a sniper next to him.

"Sit down, gentlemen. We are under a truce for now." Moriarty mostly tells me. We sit across from the pair.

"So we all know this is about Hamish and Sabrina." Sherlock says. "John, don't look so surprised. Of course she's their daughter."

"Yeah, and she's been getting too friendly with your son." Moran chimes in, looking threatening.

"What to do, what to do." Jim says, making it sound more like a statement than a question. I'm almost positive as to what Moran would like to do.

"Well, we're not hurting the kids!" I pipe up, and Jim shares a look with Sherlock. "And why can't they be together anyway?"

The other three men in the room give me a look that embodies the question Are you daft?!

"So, if John is done with his, erm, alternative ideas," Moran starts. "I have an idea of my own."

Chapter 5- Sabrina

Months fly away and I could care less. School is boring, my fathers don't really like to get involved with my life; it seems only one person really cares about me, so naturally we sneak out whenever we can. Papa hasn't caught on yet, but I don't pay any mind to it.

We usually meet in the park. It's a big estate, so there's a lot of places to hide in. It's nice to have someone who really understands me, what it's like having two dads, etc.

We've only kissed three times so far. He seemed to be as nervous as I was, so we agreed to take things slowly. I don't mind not kissing; looking at his eyes are enough for me.

I was rather surprised when Hamish asked me to dinner at his apartment .

"John's the only one home, and he doesn't mind our relationship, so-"

I answer with a kiss on the cheek. "I'd love to."

Thank the Lord that Father and Papa were out of town for the weekend. I feel like skipping as I casually walk to 221B Baker Street, which I decided is the perfect address name. Hamish looks dumbstruck when he opens the door.

"You- you look beautiful." It's only a cocktail dress.

"You look pretty spiffy yourself." Button-up shirt and dress pants. Suave.

John is very kind. He's a rather short fellow, but from the enticing stories he tells us over our dinner, I can tell he's quite lethal.

After tea and biscuits, John excuses himself to speak with their landlady. Hamish and I sit next to each other on the loveseat, the space between us quickly decreasing.

"I really do love you." He quietly says as he leans in for a kiss. I meet him halfway and I can almost hear a choir sing.

"You know," I begin. "Father and Papa are gone all weekend. If you want, we could spend the day at my place."

Hamish smiles. "It's a date."

John's footsteps draw near and we scoot further apart.

Chapter 6- Moran

Watson's landlady let me in without a second thought. I try my best to be patient, but I can hear the three of them upstairs talking. Laughing. Your son has probably snogged my daughter and you laugh, Watson? I was going to have words when John came down to talk.

No, I wasn't. Jim told me to behave, so I'll have to be nice. Ew. Nice.

John casually walks down the steps. He sees me and gestures to a parlor, probably the landlady's.

"How's it going?" I sit in a fluffy chair, indicating the apartment above us.

"Really well. They suspect nothing." John replies. He looks upset.

"What is it? You're not thinking of going against the plan, are you?"

"No, but I just wish they could be happy."

"Look, Watson. I know you'd do anything to secure your son's happiness. Personally, it kills me to see Sabrina upset. But James likes the plan and Sherlock likes the plan, so we have no choice."

He looks at me like I'm some kind of alien. "Just because we're not the masterminds doesn't mean we don't have a say, Moran."

I shake my head. "Well for me, I usually go with whatever Jim says. It hasn't failed me yet."

"Okay. If you're sure, then let's follow through with the tasks assigned to us."

I nod. Jim was taking care of a client in Norway, and Sherlock was in his family's summer home in Brussels. I was the one to suggest that John and I execute the plan. I can at least tolerate the man, unlike the relationship between James and Sherlock.

We stand and exchange goodbyes. He lets me out of the back door so Hamish and Sabrina don't see me.

Of course, if they had been snogging like I think they have been, they wouldn't see me anyway.

I take out my phone and speed dial #1.

Jim picks up. "How's it going, Tiger?"

"According to plan."

Chapter 7- Hamish

Sabrina's flat is not that far from mine, so I try to enjoy the walk and buy some time. I need to calm myself down. Jim Moriarty isn't going to pop up unexpectedly, he's on a business trip.

The Moriarty's flat is really nice (Well, it's also Moran's, but Sabrina only took Jim's last name). The decor is all contemporary and modern, but there's a sleek coldness that comes with the style of beauty. Sabrina warms up the room with her presence.

Most of our day is spent talking, like any other day. Near the end of the day we agree to watch a movie. It's in French, which neither of us speak, so it's no surprise when Sabrina falls asleep in my lap. Trying to be the gentleman the academy wanted me to be, I cover her with a blanket, move her to the other side of the couch as gently as possible, compose a note explaining the lateness of the hour, and slip out.

"Where have you been all day?" John asks when I get home.

"With Sabrina." I smile back.

"You don't say," he feigns shock. "Fancy a trip to your uncle's tomorrow? There's something I need to speak with Molly about, and your uncle wanted to see you anyway."

"Sure." I reply.

Uncle Mycroft lives in the country with Aunt Molly. They live in a big mansion that I've gotten lost in more than once.

The moment I step into the house I'm whisked away by a maid to Uncle's study. He's sitting in a leather armchair, reading some novel (written by a politician, no doubt).

"Sit down, Hamish."

I sit, and try to listen as Uncle begins a well-prepared speech about family tradition, and how I'm the sole heir to the Holmes fortune (Uncle never wanted kids). The speech droned on for half an hour. I zone in and out, but thankfully tune in for the last bit.

"...is why I find it necessary to bestow this heirloom upon you."

It's an old ring, dated back about 50 years. "It's beautiful, thank you."

"It was your grandmother's. She would have wanted you to have it. Give it to someone special, eh?"

The ride home from the country was quick. Sherlock still isn't back, but I do my best to keep John distracted. Sabrina hasn't texted me back yet. I wonder if she's okay.

Chapter 8- Sabrina

I wake up on the couch to find myself wrapped in a blanket and Hamish gone. He pinned a note to my sheet, explaining how it was getting late and he didn't want to wake me up. I love his handwriting. The note is promptly tucked inside a small box I hide under m bed for sentimentals. Most of these things are notes he's written to me.

Suddenly, my phone rings.

I answer. "Hello?"

"Sabrina?"

"Papa?"

"Get your emergency bag. I'll be over in two minutes."

The line goes dead. My emergency bag is stashed in my closet; nobody knows about it. I grab it, stuff my secret box in, and wait by the front door. If I needed my bag, I knew there was trouble.

Papa bursts through the door. "There are gunmen on their way to kill you," he says breathlessly. "they're upset with your father. I need to grab a few things, then we have to go."

While he's packing his guns, I scrawl a message to Hamish. I'll post it once we're at a safe distance from London.

"Ready? We need to go."

Father has a private jet fly us out to the French countryside. A handsome mansion (passed down over generations) awaits us. I stare at the note in my hand. Is it safe to post it? I decide against it and throw it in the wastebasket.

"Sabrina, dear. Come here." Father walks into the room. I hug him, which is one of the oddest gestures our family can make.

"Father, may I place a phone call?" I ask, batting my eyes.

"Whatever for, dear? Everyone you care about is right here." He gestures to himself and Papa.

"Well, it's just that…" I gulp. "There's one other person."

Papa's expression matches Father's: sour. "Is it that Watson-Holmes boy again? YOu know you two will never end up… allies."
Father puts a hand out, signaling I've got this. "Sabrina, dear, you know we care about you very much. But, this relationship with Hamish can never be. You are my heir to the network. Hamish will probably follow in his father's footsteps. How can you love your enemy?"

I don't respond. I hadn't thought about that. I will rule the network one day. I will become like Father. Hamish wouldn't love that. He wouldn't love me.

I run to my room in the house and lock the door, flinging myself onto the bed.

Suddenly, a tapping sound appears at my window. I look: it's John.

"Mr. Watson? What are you-"

"Shh! Long story. I couldn't help it. Sebastian, James. and Sherlock want to make Hamish believe that you're dead. I can't let that happen."

"What? So there are no actual gunmen?"

"None at all. They plan to conceal you until you take over the network, and by then Hamish will want to kill you himself."

I gasp. Hamish kill me? No way can I let that happen! "So what can we do?"

"Moran is going to pretend he's on your side. He'll try to give you a drug to knock you out. Take this instead." He hands me a small vial. "It'll take the same effect as Moran's drug, but you won't be out for as long. And when you wake up, if all goes according to plan, Hamish will be there."

I eagerly nod. This plan sounds solid. But-"What if it doesn't work?"

"What do you mean? Of course it'll work. It's foolproof! I should know; it's mine."

John is starting to sound like Sherlock. I only nod and take his word that everything will work out.

A few minutes after John leaves, Papa knocks on the door. I let him in, and he sits on my bed next to me. "This isn't what I wanted," he begins, "but James wanted it. Your father is only looking out for you, Sabrina. I didn't want to resort to this, but-" he holds out his hand. There's a small yellow pill in it. "here. This will make you a little tired, but it should have the desired effect."

The desired effect. That means it should make the pain go away. I take the pill from his hand. "Thanks Papa."

He smiles and leaves the room.

I drink the vial.

Chapter 9- John

I step into Mycroft's jet quickly; I need to get back to Baker Street. Hopefully Sabrina will have taken the vial by now.

My phone rings. It's Sherlock.

"Is it done?"

"She thinks I've gone rogue. I'm flying back now. Then we can tell Hamish." I reply.

"You sound upset. Has something gone wrong?"

"No, it's just I don't think any of this is right."

"John, if Hamish continues to court Sabrina, a catastrophe so great would occur n the system of life and we would have to call on the Doctor. Again."

"Surely that wouldn't happen! Why can't they be happy?"

"I see where Hamish gets his irrational emotions from."

"They're in love, Sherlock!"

I get no reply from him for a few moments. I know he's analyzing what I've just said; he's thinking about how love feels to say to someone, because Sherlock doesn't profess his love for others often. Finally he replies: "...that's too bad. Goodbye, John."

The line goes dead. Damnit! Sometimes I wonder why I'm with /sherlock in teh first place.

I step off the jet far away enough from Baker Street. A cab waits for me.

As soon as I pay the fare, Sherlock is opening the door to 221B.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Ready."

Chapter 10- Hamish

I check my phone again.

0 messages.

Why hasn't Sabrina texted? It's not like her to ignore me.

John and Sherlock burst into the apartment. They had both been gone on a case the whole evening.

"Hamish-" Sherlock starts, but John stops him.

"Maybe I should…" he says to him. John turns towards me. "Hamish, let me start by saying that nobody wanted this to happen, and that… that in the end, it only matters that you two were truly in love."

My heart pace quickens. My tongue feels like cotton. "What happened?"

John swallows. "Sabrina was poisoned by some men who wanted to get even with her father. The men were found a block away, shot dead. By Moran, no doubt." he adds.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock cuts in. "she's dead."

Sabrina dead? No, no no no impossible! I saw her a few short hours ago. She was so radiant, so full of life, so… not in a coffin.

I reach for words but they escape me.

"Since you were her, erm, suitor, her fathers have permitted you to visit her body privately before the wake." John says quietly. He tries to put a hand on my shoulder but I run to my room and shut the door.

What can I do?

I make my plan quickly. I pull out some needed supplies: a knife in case anyone tries to stop me, a vial of poison I nicked from Scotland Yard, and my grandmother's ring. I was told to give it to someone special.

Well who more special that Sabrina? Who would I rather be with forever?

And John and Sherlock will have to plan another wake.

Mine.

Chapter 11- Moran

The jet touches down outside of London. Jim and I carry Sabrina's unconscious body to a private car. It looks like she's dead. John's medicine really did the trick. Sabrina hadn't taken the sugar pills I gave her. No, she had been too afraid.

Some think it's wrong to govern your children with fear. I say screw them, I'm a great dad!

The car takes us to St. Bart's, which is all but closed. Molly waits for us at the door.

"Molly, dear," Jim starts. "I see your brother-in-law has filled you in?"

"Yes," she replies quietly. "I don't think it's right, but I guess I'm bound to help. Come along."

Molly and Jim have been allies since Jim told her about our past with Mycroft Holmes. I wonder if he knows Jim told her.

She takes us to a smaller room, with a coffin laid out ready for our daughter. We had changed her clothes to look more funeral-like. It looked pretty realistic to me.

Next, Jim and I meet Sherlock and John in a small security room. We'll watch the scene play out, and if anything goes wrong, we'll be ready.

Molly leads Hamish into the room, shuts the door as she walks out, and-

What?

"Moran! John! Get in there!" Sherlock yells at us.

We both grab our guns and run for the room.

Chapter 12- Hamish

Aunt Molly escorts me into a small room. On either side of Sabrina's coffin are tall candlesticks with pointy edges, sharp enough to kill a man. Other than that, the room is empty.

I slowly walk to Sabrina as Molly leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Good. I didn't want anyone to disrupt this.

I take out the ring, slide it onto the knife, and place it between her cold fingers. Then I take out the vial. I raise it to my lips, but a cold hand grips my wrist.

It's Sabrina. Her eyes are open, and she's breathing normally. How is this possible? She smiles and all I can do is pull her into a hug.

"The gunmen didn't kill you?"

"There were no gunmen. Only our fathers."

Suddenly we hear loud, angry footsteps headed towards us. I look for an exit; there's one! A little closet to the side. We run in, and Sabrina barricades the door shut with a candlestick.

We turn to each other. She wants to say something but I kiss her instead. She doesn't argue.

"I thought I'd lost you." is all I can manage.

"I wouldn't leave you like this." she replies.

"If you tried I'd just have to marry you." I jokingly say.

She laughs. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

"But I could." I pull out my grandmother's ring, which fell off the knife when she woke up. "Will you? If our fathers don't kill us, that is."

She covers her mouth with a hand and nods. We kiss again.

People are on the other side of the door, trying to break it down. We hear the voices of John and Moran. We're both terrified. Sabrina's back is to the door.

Suddenly, the candlestick comes crashing down.

Into Sabrina's back.

It's killing her.

Chapter 13- John

Moran and I break down the door, only to find Sabrina half dead, one of the candlesticks in her back.

Hamish is there, holding her close, watching her die. She's wearing the ring he just inherited.

Oh no.

Her body goes slack, and Moran runs out of the room, yelling "James! Get in here!"

"Hamish," I say quietly. "don't do anything rash."

"Why should I listen to you?" He replies, his words like ice. "You're not my real father."

So Hamish had figured out that he was the child of Sherlock and Irene Adler. I can't say I'm surprised, but it still hurt. "Does it matter? Just, don't do anything you'll regret."

I turn to see Moran run back in, Sherlock and Jim at his heels. Sherlock yells "No, don't!", and I turn again to see Hamish drink the vial of poison.

Then, everything happens at once. Sherlock lunges for the closet, Moran hides his face in his hands, Jim calls for Molly, and Hamish drops to the ground.

Dead.

It's been a year.

Moriarty and Moran haven't been publicly active lately, though they're probably still taking clients.

We visit Hamish every day. He lies where Sherlock's fake grave was, across town from Sabrina.