The party had ended and I waited for the car my father had texted me would be waiting in the main road in front of the university. I wait for about 2 minutes before a black car paused in front of me, the driver got out and opened the door for me. I nodded at him and got into the car sighing.
After reaching the airport and getting checked by security, I entered a private jet that took me back to my father's mansion in London from my school in the U.S.
When we got out of the jet another car was waiting for me, this time my father's assistant Andrea, who often called herself Anthea, was there. I smiled at the face that had been such a constant in my childhood, always waiting with a kind smile and warm hugs during hard times.
When my uncle Sherlock went into drugs she was there, re-doing my father's schedule, taking away his smokes, and making sure he ate properly when my mom was too caught up with work or out on a mission.
When an assassination attempt on my father left him in the hospital for a few weeks, she was the first one to remember I was still at home, totally alone, and had no idea of what had happened, and made sure to explain everything carefully and calmly. Not being too gruesome as so to scare me, but not spearing me from all the details just because 'I was a child' and 'children don't understand things like this'.
When my mother died she was there to give me food and reminded me of my manners, but also to let me grip her hand and cry on her shoulder when my father wasn't looking.
Seeing as it had been months since I had last seen her, I was extremely glad to see the familiar face.
"Sit down and buckle your seatbelt, Isadora. The faster we go, the faster we can get away from the traffic."
"Of course. Sorry Andrea" I responded with a blush of embarrassment.
"Try to be as polite as possible when we reach the mansion, your father is in one of his diets and it's giving him terrible migraines and a short temper."
I cringed, knowing how he got when in one of his moods from the few times I had seen him since my mother's death.
We finally reach the mansion and Adrea opens the door for me, leading me to my father's study and knocking on the door, then leaving with a polite smile to give us space.
"Come in!" I hear the tone of my father's deep voice shout.
I open the door and look at him, he is a lot older then the last time I saw him, I guess I'm a lot older too for it takes him a few seconds to recognize me.
"Isadora" he finally states.
"Father" I state looking him in the eyes, hoping to see love in them but seeing nothing.
"You know where your room is, Andrea took your measurements in the car, and there are new clothes for you there. You may leave" He says.
I bow my head with a slight nod and walk away, closing the door behind me.
YOU ARE READING
Melt his heart and hope it works (Mycroft's Daughter Fan-fiction)
FanfictionWhen asked about Mycroft Holmes's heart people might say that he is cold hearted or has a heart made of ice, people might also say that it's made of stone, some might even say he doesn't have one. Mycroft had a wife and daughter but when his daughte...
