Francesca Moor. She was tall, blonde, beautiful and popular in her school years; now though, she lived in a basement flat in London, throwing occasional parties with bass so loud you would feel it travelling up your legs and through your body. Her landlady, Mrs Hudson, allowed her to throw them, she was a friend of her parents' and would go out for the night every now and then, escaping the noise.
After her two year A-level course in forensic science, she had vowed never to return to the subject. Her teacher was a nightmare, her class was horrendous and her decision to change was made too late into the year; leaving her stuck with a snooty Mrs Phillips and a B grade in forensics. It'd been six years since she finished education, leaving her at twenty four with an unstable job and limited career options to expand to.
She climbed onto the coach which was to take her from Heathrow airport into London central, where she'd get a tube to Baker Street stsaion and lug her suitcase home. Settling down into her seat, she pulled out her earphones, and leant against the window, wating for everybody to board the bus. Her eyelids were dropping already and she was asleep in minutes, her face pressed against the glass at a rather unflattering angles for anybody on the outside to see. She woke slightly when the bus began to move, turning her body in the other direction to lean on the empty seat on her right.
She heard a deep voice mutter something under his breath before she felt the seat, or what she had presumed to be the seat, turning away from her.
"Mycroft.." He hissed, and she heard quiet laughter from a seat somewhere off to the other side of the bus.
To save any more embarrassment for either of them, she turned again, replacing her face onto the window and hearing a small sigh of relief from the man. A minute or two later, a voice came over the radios from their driver, giving them times and places he would be stopping at. She took the chance to sit up and wipe her eyes before turning to the man.
"Hey, uh, I'm sorry if I-"
"Shh."
She was taken aback by him and how quickly he had cut her off.
"Bit rude.." She muttered. "I just wanted to say-"
"Stop talking; I'm thinking." He saaid simply.
Sophie huffed, folding her arms. For her, this journey couldn't end sooner.
Hi there, this is my first proper Sherlock fic! I'm sorry this chapter is a little short, but the next chapter will be longer :)
-A x