I do not own any of the da Vinci Code characters… though I wish I did
Morning broke somewhere over Greece. The dawn splendour washed over the sleeping face of Robert Langdon, sending pink-orange rays dancing over his burly features. The thin strands of grey that had started to appear over the past few months shimmered in the early morning light.
Travelling from Boston, Langdon had taken a large sleeping pill as soon as the Boeing 747 had become airborne. Sleeping, he found, was the best cure for claustrophobia. It was also the best way to keep his nerves at bay. The prospect of the reunion with Sophie had been plaguing his sleep and mind for the past week.
He'd had the unfortunate slip of tongue during a recent lecture of calling all of the female students that had answered questions 'Sophie'.
"The Mona Lisa appears larger on the left?" a brunette questioned, staring blankly at the blown-up image that flickered on the projector screen in Langdon's lab.
"Yes, Sophie. An undoubted symbolic reference to the Divine Feminine."
"Lana, not Sophie, sir"
Langdon apologised, his face flushed.
"And Mona Lisa is a reference to Amon L'isa, the name of Isis?" a redhead asked from 4 rows back.
"Correct- you are all catching on so well. Now, Sophie," he pointed to another brunette sitting inconspicuously at the side of the stage "I believe you have the answer to the outstanding question of 'Parallels between Isis and Horus and Mary and Jesus'."
"Adeline, sir." The girl replied
"You got a thing for a chick called 'Sophie', sir" a jock called from the back, his friends laughing.
Robert contemplated the question.
Do I reply? If I do, it will be all over the Arts faculty before I know it. But it would explain all my Sophie references. Do I dare go for the sympathy vote? Surly the women will understand… maybe they will control the boys…
He went for it.
"Yes, Mr Union, I do happen to have a 'thing' for a woman named 'Sophie'." Langdon stared the jock down, hoping he wasn't blushing too profusely.
The women sat up a little straighter, taking full interest.
"She hot?" the jock pressed
Hot? Beautiful.
"She is… what you would call… classic beauty." Langdon replied, hoping that would end the conversation.
"Where'd you meet?" the jock pressed again, clearly having fun now.
"Paris."
The women sighed, turning to their neighbours and initiating giggly conversation.
"So she's French?"
"Yes, she is French. Back to the…"
"You have a Parisian girlfriend! That is so CUTE!" the brunette squealed. Her friends obviously agreed, as they too seemed to be looking at Langdon differently.
Langdon blushed. Cute… was that a good thing?
"Where in Paris? A café on the Champs Elyesee? The Eiffel tower?" the brunette asked, leaning dangerously forward off her lecture seat.
"Uh…the Grand Gallery of the Louvre, actually. Now the Mona-" Robert replied, wishing he hadn't initiated this conversation.
"NO WAY! Was it love at first sight?" she pressed, clearly having no regard for Langdon's growing discomfort on the topic.
"Not exactly. Now back to the Mona Lisa, please." He said in his most teacher like voice.
The girl cowered and sat back in her seat.
As the Sun rose further over the horizon, brilliant sunlight shone straight into Langdon's eyes, causing his pleasant dream to end in a blaze of dazzling fire before his tired, bloodshot eyes slowly fluttered open.
In the moments of disorientated bliss between waking and full consciousness, the smiling nymphish face of Sophie Neveu melted into the bubbly face of the American Airlines flight-hostess making the morning rounds of the front cabin.
"Good morning, sir." she chirped in a far too bubbly tone considering the hour. "Breakfast will be served shortly and we should be landing in about an hour and a half."
"Thank you" Langdon managed to mumble as he sat up fully, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to rid them of the early morning haze.
Casting his gaze around the cabin, Robert realised that he was the first to have been rudely awoken by the Mediterranean sun.
He scowled at the window.
"I knew I forgot to do something before I took that pill" he mumbled, searching for his boots underneath the seat in front.
Standing, he closed the shutter he had left open and cursed the business men who still slept soundly, their window shutters closed.
Shuffling towards the galley toilets, Robert gave himself the same lecture he always gave himself when faced with the impending situation.
It's just a toilet. Perfectly safe. Everyone else uses them. They have all survived. No need to worry. Just wash your face. In and out. 2 minutes max.
Coming face to face with the cubical door, Robert took a deep breath and opened the door. Closing his eyes he crossed the threshold and let the concertina door snap behind him. Now trapped in the 2x1 meter cubical, Robert opened his eyes to his own reflection.
His hair was messed, eyes bloodshot and gummed in the corners, harsh stubble had formed around his chin as he had refused to shave before flying.
Sighing, he pushed the hot water lever down and watched as the mini-basin slowly filled with temperate swirling water. Splashing his face and wetting his hair, Langdon returned his gaze back to his reflection.
"What are you doing, Robert?" he asked himself. "14 years, cradle snatcher, 14 years."
He'd had this conversation many times before. Every time he had some up with an abstract reason why it was justified, even though at the back of his mind his conscience had been screaming for him to let Sophie go.
Staring into his own eyes, he searched for a reason why, how this relationship could ever be justified.
"Do you love her? Do you know what love is, Robert?"
His face still dripping, Langdon emerged from the toilets and walked curtly back to his seat.
Breakfast service had begun. A hostess with dark brown hair pulled back into an elegant ponytail roused the passengers politely from their sleep as a second followed two rows behind with the breakfast cart.
"Good morning, sir." She greeted Langdon in the same bubbly tone as the other hostess had.
"Good morning," Langdon adjusted his vision to read her name tag pinned on the left lapel of her navy jacket "Annette. Do you know the local time in Florence, by any chance?"
The hostess looked at the gold watch that hung from her left wrist. All flight attendants adjusted their watches to the local time of their destinations as soon as they are airborne, or -if they have the luxury of a dual time watch- in the crew briefing before takeoff.
"6:25 Florentine local time. We should land about 7:30; the runways are practically barren until 10." She smiled before moving on to the stout woman in front.
"Good morning, m'am"
"Coffee or tea?"
The second hostess had caught up. Gathering a coffee cup and placing an assortment of fruit and pastry in a basket, she didn't look at Robert until he answered.
Knowing that even though they offered tea, they didn't have any on the cart, Robert asked for coffee. White, no sugar.
Sophie had said her flight landed at 4pm.
"Either gates 24,5 or 6" she chirped, running around her Parisian apartment gathering clothes while balancing a cordless phone between her shoulder and her ear. "At least that's what the travel agent said. Air France is obligated to gates 24,5 and 6… or something like that. What time do you get in?"
Not knowing why he did it, Robert had lied and said that his flight was to land at 9:30pm.
Some time to figure out dinner plans…find a good restaurant…final adjustments.
"Don't eat the airplane food, though." Robert had scoffed
"Why? Air France food is usually quite good. Well, depending on the class. I went to Berlin once for a Crypto conference and the muffins were good, that was in business class though- DPCJ has certain standards when sending Agents abroad. But, another time on the way to London, I had this horrible excuse for beef Wellington." She had teased. "But it was English food."
"Yes, but if you land at 4- you will be just in time for the last lunch servings in Florence. Airplane fake ham, cheese and alfalfa sandwiches or pasta Neopolitna in Florence?"
"Aeroplane, Robert, Aeroplane." She giggled
Absently, Robert sipped his coffee and pulled his croissant apart as the first glimpse of the Italian Peninsula came into view.
What will happen next... you'll find out when I update... when will that be?... maybe Thursday...
Omg!... not really, but yeah.
Read and review because it makes me feel special