Blog of the Niece of a Genius
Hello world,
I'm Lillian Marie, the second consulting detective in the world.
It's been two years since my fathers death and my arrival at 221B Baker Street. I've been deducting and insulting my friends and neighbors here but, all in good fun. Uncle Sherlock (He's not my real uncle. I'm the daughter of a childhood friend with nowhere else to go.) and I have solved three cases together. He's quite interesting, although very loud most of the time. He yells at the television, shoots the walls, and plays the violin. While there I've had fun, but dearly miss my father. His name was Anthony Cole. I never knew my mother, her name was Lily Grace.
I began to write on this blog to, hopefully, release the past and move forward. Uncle John said it would help. He made blogs about living and solving crimes with Sherlock before I came.
"Lillian, how old are you?" Sherlock said poking his head into the door.
"Fifteen." I stated.
"Where would you hang out, if you were normal?" He asked coming in the room and beginning to pace.
"In a cafe, wait, what do you mean 'If I was normal?'" He looked at me with his stare that could kill.
"Do you want to stop a murder?"
"Yes, been in here too long." I replied. He smiled and winked at me. I smiled back and grabbed my deep purple scarf and wrapped it around my neck as he left. I pulled my coat, which was similar to his, around my shoulders. I sighed. It was good to be back.
Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf.
"Why do you treat her so, different from everyone else?" Mycroft said coming threw the door.
"Why do you?" Sherlock replied.
"She's a child."
"And I'm her guardian." Sherlock was fed up with Mycroft, always asking why, when he knew the reason.
"Do you see her as Lily? Because, dear brother, she is not."
"No, I do not see her as Lil- Get out."
"As you wish, the file is on the table." Mycroft said turning to leave.
"Hello, Uncle Mycroft." I said as he turned around.
"Hello, dear, How have you been?" He asked gently.
"Very well, thank you." I replied. He started to go around me. I grabbed his arm. "Who is Lily? My mother, as in Lily?''
"Yes, and we will talk later about it." He whispered. I let him go and he slipped around me.
I walked into the main room. Sherlock was standing in the middle, deathly still. God, I hated it when he did that.
"Sherlock?" He didn't move. I walked up to him and gently touched his arm. "Sherlock?"
"Yes, Lily?" He replied dazed. I drew my hand back and punched him in his arm. He drew back aghast.
"What was that for?" He asked.
"Your standing there while we have lives to save let's go!"
"Ladies first." He said waving his arm to the door. I pointed my nose in the air and walked forward with grace. He laughed in his deep voice. I smiled.
"Allon-sy!" I shouted.
"The game, my dear, is on!"
"Stop shouting, you two are acting like children." Mrs. Hudson came into the foyer where we currently were.
"Ah, Mrs. Hudson, we will be needing tea when we return." Sherlock said following me to the door.
"Not Your Housekeeper."
"Yes, you are, now shut up and make tea." I said playfully. Sherlock and I stepped out of 221B and began to laugh. As it subsided, I looked at him curiously.
"When is the murder going to take place." I said reaching into my pocket.
"Two hours, at the Cafe des deux Moulins, on 3rd." He looked away and took this moment as an opportunity to take out my 'Sherlock Hat' and place it on my head.
"Taxi!" He called seeing one riding down the road. H e turned around and shook his head. "I was serious when I said 'No, hats in the house'."
"But, Uncle, we are no longer in the house." I had made a point. He sighed.
"Fine but let's go." He said. I nodded and followed him into the taxi.