A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm starting this new story, so... Let's see where it goes! The first chapter may be dry, but I have some big ideas for the story.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything you may recognize. I just own the characters I create (Sibyl, her mom, Gerald, Louise, etc)
"Sibyl, you're going to be late for work!" I heard my mother shout from our Birmingham kitchen.
"Agh," I groaned, rolling over in my bed, reaching around aimlessly in search of my mobile.
A loud thud was heard, and I averted my sleep-clouded gaze to the floor right of my bed, where I saw the small device lying atop the floor. Unwrapping myself from the jail of blankets in which I had created during my restless night, I stumbled out of the bed, silently praying that I hadn't caused a lovely crack down the middle of my double sided glass mobile phone.
I bent down and ever-so-ungracefully snatched the device up, offering a crooked smile to the still unmarked treasure, allowing a grunt of satisfaction to escape my throat.
I pressed the round button at the bottom front side of the device, and looked at the time. 9:48.
9:48?!
In a sudden rush of panic, I basically lunged myself into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush and nearly poking myself in the eye with the medicine cabinet door as I hunted urgently for the toothpaste.
Two and a half minutes later I was yanking open each of my dresser drawers and pulling out random articles that may or may not be matching or suitable for my employment, but with little time to spare, I couldn't complain.
Hoisting the a pair of light washed and knee-ripped jeans up my legs, I looked into the mirror above my nightstand and realized that I did, in fact, look like a product of a cemetery; what with dark grey rings below my eyes and my hair tangled into something closely akin to a bird's nest.
Next I slid a grey tank top over my head, followed by a cream-coloured lace top.
Tank right-side out? Check.
Top inside-out? Check.
No one will notice, right?
Slipping on a pair of TOMS that clashed slightly with the colour of my jeans, I rushed to the kitchen whilst attempting to tame my unruly mane with nothing more than my fingers.
"Well look who's finally up," my mum said, winking at me teasingly.
"Morning," I said, ignoring her snide remark.
Hastily, I grabbed a bagel from the cabinet above me and pulled it apart, adding a thick layer of cream cheese before reassembling it.
"Can I take your car? Mine needs gas," I asked my mother, with a mouthful of un-swallowed bagel swimming around my mouth.
"Use your manners, don't talk with food in your mouth," my mum said, tossing her set of keys at me.
I fumbled to catch the flying set of jingles before uttering a "thanks mum" and then throwing a satchel over my shoulder and rushing out the door, keys in one hand and bagel and phone in the other.
I rushed to the apartment's parking garage, crashing into my landlady on my way, proof of my ever graceful composure.
Once again clicking the home button of my phone with urgency, I looked at the clock which now read 9:58.
Holy crap.
Four minutes later I found myself shoving the remainder of my bagel into my mouth and jumping out of my car, making a mad dash into my workplace in hopes of avoiding an applicable tardy.
"Ahh, well look who finally decided to show up!" I heard a man say as I entered the library.
"Oh hush, would you? I overslept, I'm sorry!"
"I'll write you in as on time, Sibyl. But if it happens again…"
"I'll be written in as late, my mum will make a fuss and my boss will tell me it better not happen again, then I'll proceed to say 'sorry, ma'am, I carelessly stayed up 'til two in the morning, thus causing me to oversleep. Won't happen again, I promise.'" I giggled to Gerald, before grabbing my name clip and heading to find a rack of books in need of return to their homes.
"Louise?" I asked, looking around for the short blonde that separated the many books onto carts labeled by genre.
"Yes, Sibyl?" she called from her tiny office, closed off from the rest of the large room.
"Can I put the crime books back in their section, please?" I asked, my eyes darting around the room in search of the cart labeled "Law/Crime/Court".
"So you can goof off some more?" Louise asked with a sly grin, emerging from her cube of an office.
"Well may I?"
"Knock yourself out, darling," she replied with a light wave of her hand.
I smiled widely before walking over to the carts and spotting the one I was in search of, wheeling it out of its' place and heading out of the arched doorway.
I reached my destination, proceeding to pull out a number of files and books, placing them in their alphabetical orders, until one particular file caught my eye.
'JAMES MORIARTY, CONSULTING CRIMINAL AND EXPERT CON-MAN
A collection of files regarding the world's greatest con man, hidden by many guises and unknown by most.'
What?
James Moriarty? As in Jim Moriarty? As in the fictional nemesis of the fictional sleuth?
Utterly confused, I rubbed my eyes before looking once again at the ecru coloured folder, a very fat folder, may I add.
Jim Moriarty simply happened to be my all time favourite fictional antagonist, specifically after Andrew Scott's brilliant job at portraying the man in BBC's Sherlock.
This must be an entirely different James Moriarty, I thought, quickly throwing the thought (and bit of hope?) that the man in these files was the same man in a show. A show about a sleuth that never existed, with an antagonist that never existed. It's a silly thought.
However, I pulled the stepping ladder off of the side of the cart and unfolded it so that I could place the file on a top shelf, hiding it away for the day so I could take it home with me later.
The day passed quickly, and before I knew it, I was writing off my shift and rushing back to the shelf with a ladder in hand. Hastily, I gripped the folder and skipped back to the front library desk, approaching Gerald once again.
"Gerry, I wanted to check these filed out, if that's okay?"
I handed the old man the file, and he inspected it before shooting me a toothy grin.
"You and your crime stories, you'll never get enough of them," he said, typing something into the computer, "one of these days, you're going to have to move away just so you can find new books to read! Won't be long and you'll have read everything on every shelf here!"
"I don't think I ever will," I said with a laugh, "but I don't plan on moving anytime too soon, so maybe I'll just have to read everything twice."
"Reading things twice doesn't suit you, Sibyl," Gerald said, handing the book back to me, "you're always craving new problems and you know it."
"That is true, too true, perhaps. I should be going!"
"Goodbye! Drive carefully."
"Thanks, I will! Bye, Gerald," I said, waving and turning before dashing out of the library.
And some part of me knew that I'd be up late again that night.