[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

032; You Call Yourself A Free Spirit

"Did you enjoy yourself, though?" Anthea's words scored through her, echoing with the same intent as Jim Moriarty's had when he had asked her if she were happy where she was at in her life. Looking back on all the mishaps and crazy adventures she had had, could she really say deny how alive she had felt for a second time? Julia was truly torn, when it came down to it. Part of her regretted not taking Sherlock's offer to stay with them all at 221B, if only for a bit longer, while another told her to flee, to run away as fast as possible before she were to get hurt any further. Julia found that a smile had crept up onto her face, drenched in sorrow and guilt.

"Yes, I loved every minute of it," she cooed, brows furrowing softly. There was a moment of reticence, as thick and as sweet as honey. The rosette's head tilted up and she looked out her window, watching the scenery pass by as she grew further and further away from the city that would always hold a piece of her heart. "I fell in love with London, the people. It almost hurts to leave it all behind." Taking a deep breath, she rolled her eyes and then snorted softly, shooting Anthea a shy glance of apology. "That was so depressing, I apologise."

She was smiling too, straight at the screen of her phone, which she had now traded for her computer. The mac lay shut in front of her, silver surface spotless and glossy. With a dismissive wave of her hand, the brunette shook her head. "No need," Anthea scoffed. "It's good to talk about these things sometimes."

How ironic, Julia thought tastelessly. Coming from the woman who is more interested in technology than human interaction. She fought the urge to get up and smack the device from her hand. The rosette cleared her throat and ended their discussion there, eyeballing the screen of her own apparatus and plugged her other headphone back into her ear canal. Slowly, she sank into her own thoughts, arms crossed as she pensively peered out the window. There was no backing out now, she suspected, and thus she migrated her train of thought from Baker Street and Scotland Yard to the topic of her family. Would her mother be please to see her? She knew her father would, but... after she had up and left without warning, she wondered if perhaps they would even welcome her back home.

Anthea excused herself, judging by her movements, taking her phone with her and most likely heading to the lav. If they won't accept me, then to hell with them, she thought. I've worked too hard, regardless of whether I've been unemployed. I've been kidnapped, I've thrown myself into the line of fire, I've jumped into the Thames and nearly ended my own life at the end of a gun. Julia felt a deep burning anger beginning to burn in her chest as she decided then and there that she wouldn't let people walk all over her and tell her what she needed to be or how she needed to act. If she didn't want a relationship, then that was her decision; if she couldn't find a job, that was her problem and she would work on it until she was successful. I've been through all this and I've come out on top, and I can be proud to say that I've chased after criminals, I've shut-down the black-market and I've saved countless lives.

Julia's eyes prickled and she tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. They're lucky to have me back alive, let alone at all. This is my life, damnit!

Motion quickly caught her attention and she scrubbed her dampening eyes, tugging out an earbud and muttering an apology as she shoved over. The gentleman settled down next to her, arms neatly folding up onto the table, an umbrella resting between their seats as he merely nestled until comfortable. A light and airy coalescence of aftershave, mint and English rain caught her attention, and she turned her head, eyes falling upon a familiar face. Julia let out a squeak of surprise and nearly jolted out of her chair.

"I hope that this seat is not taken," the eldest Holmes entreated politely. His crystal blues had her glued to her chair, dressed in a flawless three-piece dove-grey suit, his tie a flavourful pastel blue that complimented his icy gaze. Julia felt as if she were looking into the eyes of a snake. Had he come to ask her to stay in London too?