(1937-09-04) Tim Meets Annie
Details for Tim Meets Annie
Summary: Tim meets Annie. Annie accidentally drops envelope. Tim brings Envelope to Annie.
Date: September 4th 1937
Location: London
Related: None

Another beautiful day in London! Well, for London, anyway. Storms of the morning have given way to an uneasy peace, with clouds still in the sky but now holding their bounty of water instead of shedding it down onto the crowded streets of the city. Despite the threatening rain, there's a warm breeze, which may, in time, prove to be the doing in of one Annie Taylor. On a lunchtime errand, the girl has forsaken both coat and umbrella, and is armed only with… a book. Of course, she's rarely seen without a book, but this one comprises her errand. A slip of paper is held in her hand, and she looks from it to the tidy houses that line this section of the boulevard, her brows drawn together in concentration and, perhaps, frustration.

Tim is about to take a picture of some scarf that someone down the street has lost and it's blowing about in the wind. Dancing through the air Tim watches through the viewer on his camera as Annie comes into the shot. Then as the Scarf almost with a mind of it's own, wanting to touch the pretty face of the passing-by Annie comes fluttering through the air and just might whap and then wrap around Annie's face if she's not, "Careful!" Tim calls in his thick brogue as he points to the scarf just after pressing the button quickly. It is a beautiful shot, made even lovelier by Annie's hair whipping all about.

Preoccupied, Annie doesn't notice the scarf in the least, until a voice calls out. She turns toward the sound, the movement taking her barely out of the path of the scarf, which tickles against her cheek as the wind tumbles it past her. A startled exclaimation leaves her lips, and she falters backwards… stepping solidly into a puddle on the walk. "Oh bother!" comes her clearly frustrated voice, but she still sees the humor in the situation and a laugh floats from her. She just shakes her head at herself, looking up again toward the voice, then after the scarf that's just gotten past her now. "Oh dear, is that yours?" Without waiting she steps quickly, managing to snag the fabric in delicate fingers, and it waves out from her grip like a colourful banner.

Tim winces and curls up behind his camera a little bit when she steps into a puddle. "Ss-sorry!" He feels it's his fault, saved her from a scarf only to give her a soggy foot! He gulps a little bit when she continues to socialize with him. Shaking his head to her question he looks a touch wide eyed and swallows hard. "Nono Miss. N.n.not mine." He points behind him to the car that's chugging along the road further down. "The d.d..driver lost it." He gives a boyish smile, it's a shy thing and he shrugs his shoulders and then points to her foot and then towards his door a few doors down from where he's standing. "T.t.towel?"

Annie walks toward Tim as he replies to her, a friendly smile on her lips. His hesitation speaking is noted, and she senses something of a discomfort behind it, which only serves to warm and soften her smile further. "It was well daft of me to not miss that puddle. A towel would be very kind." She pauses, as a thought occurs to her, and she pushes the book she holds toward the man with the camera, clearly expecting him to take it, "Hold this a moment, would you?" Hopefully he does, because she's already turned back toward the roadway, and a lamppost stationed there. With a quick motion she ties the scarf around the post, securing it with a big bow where it can be easily seen. "There. If someone comes looking."

Tim watches her, book in hand with bright emerald eyes. He for once almost forgets about the camera as he watches her so wittily ties the scarf in a bow around a lamp post. But right as she's done and looking back at him does he lift his camera to take another picture of her. His grin widening a bit more the moment the camera is in front of his face. "B..b.rillient." Placing the book under his arm he reaches up the now free hand to make sure she gets back down alright. "I'll just g.g.g.get that towel." He thumbs back to the same door and then offers the book back to her before he steps in a puddle himself as he's walking backwards a couple of steps, as if he doesn't want to turn away from the woman. "B.boh.bollox."

The offered hand is gripped lightly for a moment, before Annie releases it to take possession of the book once more. "Ta," she says lightly, amused at the picture he's taken. Ready to follow him, the young witch can't help a burst of laughter as he sinks his foot into water as well. "Aren't we the pair then," comes her light chiding. "Looks like it'll be towels all around."

Tim laughs at himself and lowers his head sheepishly, but also to watch the water dump out of his shoe when he tilts his foot to the side. "T.tuh.two t.t.towels." He remarks with that laugh still in his voice. To the door he leads her, but then gestures to one of a pair of chairs on the stoop to his home. "Don't wh-wh-wha-want ye, t.t.t.to f.fuh.feel ss-skeezed on." Meaning he doesn't want her to feel uncomfortable about being invited inside to a stranger's home. Not to mention, he has no clue if she's a witch or not. So there's the whole Statute of Secrecy thing.

The young woman shares the photographer's same cautions, else she would have produced her wand and taken care of their soaked little piggies in a blink. She follows him readily, and sinks into one of the offered chairs, her smile flashing up at him once more. "It's very kind of you," she offers again, before turning her attention to her wet shoe. Annie slips her foot out, tipping the modestly heeled sensible black shoe so a few drops fall from it.

Tim slips inside, now, he's decorated the house with zero expectation that he'll have company really. In all these years he's the only one that's ever seen his home. Usually people aren't sitting in his chair on the porch either when he opens the door. So Tim completely botches keeping said Secrecy Statute and the Keen Eye of Annie could easily notice some of the first pictures on the wall. One picture of a lovely ginger woman next to a rather stern looking older version of Tim waves to Annie from her frame at eye level when standing and tells her husband, "Look! Oh look! It's a girl, she's lovely. Hello dear!" Sarah Moody waves again from her picture trying to get the 'guests' attention and Tim quickly freezes and turns around, free hand sliding to where his wand is hidden. He'll have to obliviate the poor girl if she spots his mother's obviously moving picture! Or at least that's what he assumes he'll have to do.

Although her attention seems to be on the water slowly dripping from her shoe, Annie's eyes had shifted to the shy man as he attempted to slip through his front door, and her head lifts fully as she spots the pictures. Especially, of course, the one from which she is greeted. No surprise springs to her face as it likely would on a Muggle, but rather that smile, still steady, expands another measure. "Is that your mum then?" she asks, raising her hand and wiggling her fingers in a returned wave.

Tim looks between Annie and his Mum and moves to stand between the two when his mother scolds, "Invite her in, it's freezing out there!" He clears his throat trying to drown out his mother's meddling. A boyishly charming smile appears on his face and as he shrugs he nods a little bit. Noticing she's not freaking out he gathers that she's at least a squib, which makes him relieved if surprised at his luck that she's not a muggle. "W.w.wuh.would yeh like t.t.t.to come in?"

Annie ducks her head to hide a laugh at his mother's admonition to invite her in, and she stands, never one to disobey anyone's mother. "I would, ta." She stands, pausing again as she tucks the book under her arm, holds her wet shoe in her left hand, and offers her right out toward Tim. "You should know who you're inviting in. I'm Annie Taylor."

Tim takes and shakes the hand, "Tim Moody." Seems he has learned to at least speak clearly through his name. Quickly he steps aside to let her in and a flick of his wand has a fireplace in the sitting room roaring. "S.s.s.it. S.s.s.till n.n.n.need da t.towel?" Is asked after the door is closed. This question a bit of a 'test' to see if she's squib or witch.

Moody Residence London
Tue Sep 04, 1937 ((Tue Sep 04 21:18:25 2012)) (G,3 NE)

It is a summer night. The weather is cool and raining.

Nearly every surface of wall that isn't a door is covered in framed photographs of the Wizarding variety. There is clearly a talent behind the lens; it's evident in the composition, the lighting, even the subjects captured. Some are portraits of people, others are landscapes, animals, anything that caught the eye of the photographer. The pictures are alive with movement, and all the more fascinating because of it.
It seems that most of the thought in decorating has gone into the placement of the treasured images. Not to say there isn't care in the furnishings, but the stuffed sofa and matching chairs seem more like a necessary afterthought, and not the main focus of the house's inhabitant. Toward the back of the house a glimpse of a functional kitchen, nothing fancy, can be seen. Stairs lead upward, surely to at least a couple of bedrooms and the water closet. And the wall of the stairway, of course, it yet another gallery for the stunning photographs to be displayed.
Near the door leading to the front garden of the house, there is a door that one would normally expect to be a coat cupboard. A peek beyond reveals something far different, and far larger than expectations. This is the photographer's darkroom, perhaps the most important room for the resident. Wizarding space has made the space expansive enough for ease of movement, and everything needed is just an arm's reach away. The scent of developing potions is redolent in this space, and how it manages not to seep under the door and into the whole house is likely explained by more magical means. There is clearly a place for everything here, and everything is in it's place. This organization probably all thanks to an adorable little house-elf by the name of Bowie.

Her hand is soft and warm in his for that moment. "A pleasure, Mr. Moody." As she brushes past him, not having put her shoe back on and so rather step*clomping* her way in, any answer she might have had to his question is taken away by the sheer volume of photographs decorating his domicile. "Cor," she breathes out lightly, turning in a circle to take it all in. Ever keen to grasp the obvious, Annie asks, "You've taken all these then?"

Tim rubs the back of his neck after he's tucked the camera away in he dark room. "Aye." He nods to her question not minding the master of the obviousness of it. "Cuppa?" He then pantomimes and gestures about the towel again. Since she's making it very hard for him to not stutter.

Annie manages, just barely, to tear her eyes away from the fascinating display of photographic skill, pushing a fallen lock of hair back from her nose. "I would kill for a cuppa," she says, "But I'll have to scamper back to work. I've completely lost track of the time again." As she speaks she deftly slips her wand from a clever pocket along the seam of her skirt. A quick charm has her foot and shoe dry, and said shoe is dropped to the floor so she can slip her foot back into it. The wand motions toward Tim's own wet foot. "Shall I?" she offers agreeably.

Tim actually blushes a little and nods, but stays quiet. He ohs softly when she says that she has to get back to work. Believing she's being polite and he bolloxed up being a good host. "T.t.take c.c.c.care." He's getting progressively more annoyed with himself about his stammer.

A soft sweep of her wand, a little tickle at his toes, and there is one less wet foot in this sorry world of ours. Tucking her wand back away, Annie looks around with a wistful sigh. "I wish I had more time to look." She turns to him abruptly, "They're quite good, I think. I mean," a blush rises to her own cheeks and she quickly looks away, "it's not that I'm an expert or anything." Recovering her momentary lack of composure, Annie turns her smile back on. "Thank you for your hospitality, Tim Moody."

Tim smiles amazed and happy she likes his photos. "Ye c.c.can c.c.come b.buh.back. Sssee d.d…them any t.t.t.time." He offers her with a big smile and walks her to the door. "Good on yeh." When he speaks more in the Irish way than the English way his stutter is much less.

Annie flashes her smile one more time as she steps out the door. "I'd like that," she says simply. She turns away and starts to hurry off, not noticing the envelope that slips from the book she was supposed to be delivering. It flutters down onto Tim's doorstep as Annie nearly trots off down the street. The return address is noted as the London Library.

Wizarding Library West End London
Tue Sep 04, 1937 ((Tue Sep 04 23:26:49 2012)) (D,4 NW - N)

It is a summer night. The weather is cool and overcast.

The Wizarding area of the Library is of course for wizards only and is hidden from muggle sight. Every imaginable book a wizard could want can be found here, or most likely acquired upon request. During the day many wizards mill about at the shelves or are seated at the available tables in the circular space in the center of the surrounding shelves that ladders and stairwells wind about for stories above the floor. A dome of iron and glass high above the stacks at the top of the tower of knowledge allows the day light in. Some windows can be found scattered amongst the shelves.

The evening is fast approaching, bringing an autumnal chill to the air of London. Rain still threatens, but it's been kept at bay since early morning. It's typically quiet in the Wizarding area of the Library of London, and there are few patrons still lingering over books and periodicals. Annie moves around the area easily, well familiar with the space and as comfortable as she would be in her own home. She wears a robe over her Muggle street clothes, the hem falling just about even with the hem of her slender skirt. She hums, very softly, as she straightens chairs and guides books back to their shelves with graceful movements of her wand. Still, there's something of a distracted air as she works toward the day's end, every now and then the humming stopping as she pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment, before continuing on.

Tim has been practicing what he's going to say and how he's going to hand her the envelope that she dropped, in fact he's still practicing the motion when he comes into the Wizarding Portion of the Library. But then he spots her and even when not talking he can feel his tongue knot up. Quickly he tries to duck out of sight so he can compose himself. "Daft fool. Gettit togedder!" He whisper scolds himself.

Annie is in the midst of one of her strange pauses as Tim enters, but she doesn't exactly see him. She more sees, from the corner of her eye, a sense of movement, very quick, darting behind one of the bookshelves. There's never really a shortage of unusual things going on in the wizarding world at any given moment, so she waits, looking toward the spot curiously, for a few moments.

From the edge of the shelf the movement happened a bridge lock of red hair is followed by the peeking of an emerald eye. Both of which vanish instantly the moment he realizes she's looking directly at him. "Bollox! Just apparate away an' leave the envelope." He weighs his options outloud.

Something…. something seemed familiar about that tuft of hair and piercing green eye. Annie can't quite put her finger on it, and she begins to walk toward the spot, her heels clicking lightly on the solid floor. She hears the voice, but not the words spoken, and it seems like she ought to be able to place that as well. Perhaps she's slightly thrown off by his ease of speaking when he believes no one can hear. She slows as she nears the shelves, not quite stepping into the open, but rather more peering around the corner curiously, brows lifted in expectation of who she might find.

Tim is pacing about the stacks, "She's going to think you're a blighter now. Or worse. Just apparate away Tim. But then ye won't have this chance again. Maybe she dropped it on purpose? Maybe she didn't… maybe ye should stop talking to yourself you daft idjit!" With that he just nods to himself and turns about to pace the other way again. He goes back to practicing his introduction. "Greetings…no not greetings, bollox! Hi…Hello…Nice to see yee again…yes! Nice to see you again. Annie. I have this envelope for ye, it dropped right out of your book. Fancy that right? So here I am, making sure it gets back to ye..to you…" He takes a deep breath and does some mouth exercises and then turns around and heads right for where she's spying.

She really doesn't mean to eavesdrop, she should have just stepped out into the open, well she should just step back now then, but… she doesn't. The curious cast to Annie's face eases into her usual smile as she overhears him rehearsing what he wants to say. When he pauses for a breath she eases backwards, turns, and very quietly takes several fast steps away. But what to do now? Will he stand there all night? Cor, wizards are an odd lot lately. Well, there doesn't seem to be anything to it but to walk forward, clearing her throat, and reaching the corner as she calls in a library voice, "Hello?"

Tim was still practicing the suave sweeping offering of the envelope as he turns out of the aisle he whaps the envelope against her chest and then does that automatic wide eyed thing where you instinctively reach out and touch the person where you just hit them. That doesn't turn out very well and he's a bright as his hair as he quickly recoils his hands stammering what sounds like a curse at him and apology to her. Flustered beyond belief he's stammering so much that he just about drop the envelope in her hands, gestures over his shoulder and starts to back away quickly.

Shock. That is, undeniably, the only emotion that can be read on Annie's face in that moment. She automatically grabs the envelope, and her wide eyed stare drops. It takes a beat for her to register what she's holding, and when she does she is a transformed witch. "Tim!" Her voice is louder than it should be, and she immediately drops it, rushing into the aisle toward him, looking positively delighted. She's almost about to impulsively hug him, does reach out, in fact, to grasp his arms, and stops the movement abruptly, all too aware of propriety. Instead she simply beams at him, "Cor, you've found it! You are absolutely brilliant," she hisses excitedly.

Tim gives her hand on him quite the shocked look. After what he accidentally did he is still expecting a slap across the face. So her reaction has him confused and befuddled for the moment. "Wuh-whe-welcome." He stammers and the fact that after all his practicing all his hope and desire to not look like a stuttering idjit in front of her collapses in that stammered utterance.

Seeing his confusion, Annie waves the envelope in the air, her other keeping it's place boldly on his arm. "The letter, I can't thank you enough for bringing it, it was deviling me no end trying to remember where it could possibly have gotten to." Clearly, whatever else happened, this has made up for it and then miles more. Her hand squeezes gently, and she says with quiet sincerity, "You may have saved my job, Mr. Moody."

Tim looks surprised and then smiles wide, that boyish quality shining through again. He nods and tries to keep things brief in the talking department, "G-guh-glad." Taking a deep breath he looks mortified about the stammer.

Annie looks into his eyes a moment, her gaze softening as his face shows his feelings. Finally, she releases his arm, holding the envelope firmly in two hands now. "I need to put this away before I lose it again. Will you stay?" she asks, as the clock moves closer to closing time for the library.

Tim gives a little embarrassed blush. It's really hard to think that at one time Tim was one of the trainees to watch to excel in the Auror Office. He can't even talk to a pretty girl without stammering. He just gives her a nod in answer and then points to a stepping ladder by the door. He goes to sit there and wait for her, not occupying a chair, as she's putting those up.

"Good," Annie says shortly, with a nod of her own head. Of course, that pops a curl out of place, and she hastily shoves it back. She turns and hurries off, heels tapping the floor again as she goes. Just before she disappears toward the office, she hesitates and looks back, flashing Tim a smile, not really checking that he's not slipped away, no no. She secures the envelope and uses more magic than she usually does in setting things right for the evening, diligent even as she hurries to be done with her work.

Tim is still there, sitting on the rung of a ladder, now with a book on his knee the very near-by spot he plucked it from is 'kept' by his tweed cap wedged in between the books beside him. Even if it takes her quite a bit of time to be ready, she asked him to stay and she'll need an escort home, so he patiently just reads the random book he plucked from the shelves and wait. Though he often peeks upwards to watch her now and then.

Although she usually takes her time with the clearing up, enjoying the silence in the air and the smell of old books, Annie doesn't tarry with her duties tonight. Now that the crisis of the missing envelope has been averted, her mind is free of that worry, and she instead ponders Tim Moody as she waves her wand to start a featherduster swiping at the desk. Asking him to stay was an impulse, and she's not really sure she expected that he would. She also peeks at him as she works, and when she's finally finished to her own satisfaction she approaches him, a light coat over her arm and a plain black satchel in her hand. Both are deposited on a table near him, and she moves to shrug out of her cloak, still speaking in a 'library voice' by habit as she asks, "Did you find anything interesting there," and nods toward the book he reads.

Tim shrugs his shoulders closing the book and displaying it for her as he stands up. 'The Muggle Conspiracy', by Sinistra Lowe. "B-bitta ligh r.reading." He jokes with a chuckle and puts the book about Wizard Supremecy back into its space and puts his cap in his back pocket. He takes the chance up to 'snag' her jacket from where she put it down and he holds it up and spreads it out so that she can slide into it with ease. "R.r.ready t.t.t.to g.g.gg.go?" He takes a big deep sigh and offers his elbow to the librarian.

Carelessly stuffing her robe into the satchel, Annie smiles at his joke. "If you like that to cosy you to sleep at night, I can pull dozens more out for you," she rejoinders as she slips into the offered coat, looking back at Tim over her shoulder before she steps away and snugs the belt around her waist. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Annie tucks her hand into the offered elbow, and as they step toward the exit she asks gently, "Is it from uncomfortable situations?" She doesn't want to come out and say 'your stammer' and make him more self conscious, but she didn't miss him speaking so easily to himself when he wasn't aware of her presence.

Tim since he's been sitting here watching her at times the flustered affect is less now, his stutter is lessened now, it's just really when he looks into her eyes as they talk that makes him stumble. To her offer for a book like it he makes a face shaking his head. His expression alone shows that he doesn't agree with the author one bit about the need to eradicate the Muggles because they are out to ruin the Wizarding way of life and blah blah blah…hogwash! To her question very politely danced around he gives an uncomfortable sheepish half smile. He is wanting to explain it, tell her it's because he thinks she has an amazing /unique/ beauty all of her own and his brain has trouble processing words when he's in that sort of presence. But he makes the mistake of looking into her eyes an all he does is manage to wag his jaw, no words coming out as he gestures to her and then makes a circling point around her face. But still he can't form the right words so he just sighs and nods. "Aye."

Annie nods her understanding, but as a Ravenclaw she cannot help her desire to understand /more/, everything she possibly can. "My uncle," she says, her tone confiding as if this isn't something she discusses, and indeed her family isn't, "has a problem very much like this. He's a professor at a university, of all things, and has to give lectures all the time. He practices with me, and he's told me that he sometimes imagines that I'm the only one there and he gets through it without fail." Annie stops before they reach the exit to the Muggle side of the library, and turns to face Tim. She's got a good idea that she is perhaps the uncomfortable situation for him, so she gently takes him arm to guide him facing away from her, and then she turns her back on him as well. Taking a step back, she bumps against him lightly, and asks, "How long have you been taking photographs?"

Tim looks very relieved that she is someone who has experience with his problem and doesn't seem to judge him for it. That kindness unfortunately makes it that much worse to talk to her, but then she comes up with the clever idea of facing him away and facing herself back against him. Of course that press against him reminds him she's there, but like this it's much more comforting than it is befuddling. He takes half a minute, just breathing and trying to compose himself. To for get she's there and then answer. "Ssince Ah was eigh monts." Letting his brogue loose helps as well.

The young witch hadn't realized she was holding her breath expectantly until Tim speaks and she lets it out with a sigh. It worked, and it's a start. He might feel her relax against him more comfortably, and her voice drifts to his ears, "It seems to me, from all the photos in your house, that you are not only quite good, but you love to do it."

Tim reaches with his hand to find hers for just a moment to take it and give it a very grateful squeeze. He takes a bit to answer again as he gears up for continuing to have a non-stuttered conversation with his new acquaintance. "Ahdu, it's how Ah express mehself most o de time…"

While there's an oddity to having a conversation without looking at someone, there's still something comfortable about being able to put Tim a bit more at ease, and Annie smiles at the brief touch of his hand. "Is it what you've always wanted to do?"

Tim keeps it proper, keeps it gentlemanly - the touch to her hand is brief. She can feel his shoulders shrug. He is increasingly becoming more and more relaxed now. "Aye, well…ssort of. Mostly aye."

Annie takes a chance now, and turns beside Tim, letting her hand slide into the crook of his elbow again as she urges him to turn as well, and then start walking again. She keeps her head ducked to avoid eye contact, instead watching his feet beside her own. "You went to Hogwarts then? I was Ravenclaw," she offers, instead of simply interrogating him.

Tim bends his arm to 'hold' her hand and also so it's protected by the folds of his jacket when they get outside. He nods and smiles wide looking down at the ground as they walk. Though he of course keeps an eye on the rest that's before them so they don't collide with anything. "Aye. Gryff-ffindor." He peeks over at her for just a moment, he can't help it! "Nuh-1928." The last part there he uses an old man voice and pets at his very short scruffy beard with his hand like it was a long old man beard.

Annie glances at Tim from the corner of her eyes, laughing at his tone of voice and motion. "Cor, yer right ancient," she jokes back, lapsing easily into her Camden Town origins. "Jus' stay here by me, granda, little Annie will see you safely on your way." Her other hand comes over, taking his arm in a more firm hold as they make their way through the Muggle library and out into the London dusk beyond.

As they walk through the Muggle area of the library, it's closing down too, and there's a little old woman speaking of ancient. She is having trouble getting her things together so with an excusing pat to the hand on his elbow and a begging for a moment with a finger lifted he goes over to where the old woman is, helps her with her jacket similarly to how he helped Annie and she's all sweet and happy and thankful, until she hears his Irish accent when he asks her if she was, "Checkin' any these out?" and she then frowns and hurries along her way and checks her pockets to make sure that Tim didn't steal anything out of them. With a sad little chortle he returns to Annie and offers his elbow again.

Annie waits patiently, watching Tim's interaction with no little bit of interest. Clearly, he's a gentleman, thoughtful and kind. And she rather fancies the way his hair and eyes compliment each other, and his ease when he's not feeling all jumbled up. She smiles to herself, wondering if he'd ever be that at ease around her. Actually looking at her and not away. Ah well, a young woman's flight of fancy since she cannot quite imagine someone as singular as him taking an actual interest in her. There are a million reasons he could get tongue tied around her, and it never occurs to her for a moment why it actually is. She tucks her hand back into his arm companionably, forgetting herself and looking into his brilliant green eyes. Her lips part to speak, but this time she finds it's herself at a loss for words. Coloring lightly, she drops her gaze and tugs gently at his arm to continue on.

Tim once more protects her hand by 'squishing' it. He looks at her curiously when /she/ gets tongue tied. He chuckles and then starts to pantomime and comments, "Wh-we sseem like one of dem silent pictures." The pantomiming gestures are the dramatic sort of things you'd expect to find in a Silent Film.

A deeper blush colours Annie's cheeks at having been caught out so, and she immediately pushes silly thoughts away and scolds herself briefly for being daft. Again, she laughs at his antics, chiding lightly, "I'm rarely at a loss for words, Mr. Moody, so I suggest you enjoy the moment while you can."

Tim arrives with her at the doors about then, so he snaps to, giving the door a swing open for her while his other hand flicks up in a crisp salute. "Aye mum."

Annie steps lightly out the door past Tim, daring to poke a finger into his ribs as she mutters good-naturedly, "Cheeky." Along with the falling darkness, the rain still threatens and her blue eyes cast about. "Now, if the rain would only hold…." and as if she's summoned it, big drops begin to splatter from the sky, slow and lazy.

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