Regina "Queenie" Emily Watson was the youngest of the Watson siblings.
She felt crushed with the pressure of having an older brother and sister constantly weighed on her, she thought, even as she grew older, it was no question why she had been drawn to crime.
Nothing severe, no murder, no breaking and entering, just running, climbing and a lot of weed. The feeling of her feet pounding on the rooftop of a building and the rush of jumping between two buildings.
She had become a skilled free-runner by the time she was due to sit her A-level examinations, it was at this point that a tall, well dressed, young man spoke to her in private.
"My name is Mycroft Holmes, do you know who I am?" He asked. As Queenie adorned a hoodie - three sizes too big for her in a faded teal green colour - a t-shirt she had been sleeping in and a pair of leggings, along with her scuffed trainers, she felt slobbish in comparison to the suited man.
"Mycroft Holmes, you just told me. Not enough for me to know you a person, but enough to know your name, and that you're middle class working for a large corporation." She took in his suit and his face that had turned from a serious frown to a small smirk.
"Here," he passed a file to the eighteen year old she took it in her scarred and battle worn hands, from being scraped up against walls, metal and concrete over several years, "this is your brief, you are expected to take it."
She flicked through the file, pages upon pages of it had information on her small gang, all female, some older than her, yet she, of all eight of them, was the most talented.
"We want to take your skills and let you utilise them."
"In complete secret? Even from my family?"
"Complete and utter secrecy. If you take this on, you may never have the chance to see them again. After your examinations, of course."
"Can I sleep on it?"
"No."
"Then I'll accept."
Four notes sat on the Watson's dining room table, one for each person, one for John and one for her Mother, both clearly tear stained, one for Harry, the hand had been calm during this point, as they could tell from the letter to her father, her hand had clearly shook until the letter was illegible in places.
Queenie Watson was last seen the day she finished her A-Levels.
Welp. Welcome to Queen of Hearts, I have 36 A4 pages of this wrote in size 11 Arial already
-Ellie
