The Reporter and The Photographer

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Abigale

As I finished off the sandwich Tintin made me, I began thinking. "I think I know where we can start gathering information for your story." I said. Tintin looked up from eating. "How so?" He asked. "Well I was walking down the street, and there was a ,rather attractive, man who was extremely persistent that I take up a free dinner." I explained. Tintin looked at me like I was bonkers. "What?" I asked.

"Maybe he was just being friendly. Ever thought of that?" He said. I rolled my eyes. "Will you just trust me on this." I said softly. This time he rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do? Take you on a date?" He asked sarcastically. I looked at him with a smile.

"No. I'm not using you as bait." He said stunned. "Your not using me if I actually enjoy myself." She said crossing my arms. "Oh, who is trying to make a move now?" He asked. "It's not a real date, your not really my type, we just need to act like we love each other... Scope out the scene together." I explained. He nodded taking in the information.

"So this isn't you trying to flirt?" He asked. "No. Lives our at stake, girls like me our in trouble." I said as seriously as I could muster. He nodded once again. "I'll see you at five o'clock then." Tintin said.

I smiled, "See you at five o'clock." I walked out the door and headed to my flat.

....
It was 4:55 and I looked horrid. If I were crossing a troll bridge I'd make all of the trolls duck for cover. The fanciest thing I owned was a pink dress. I hate pink. I had a rose hair pin to go with it, so that made it all worse. And today is the day my hair wants to be lifeless.  I also wasn't that great at make up, as I did live on a farm with very little money.

I looked in the mirror. "Okay Abigale Gertrude Douglass, you can do this. It is just a casual thing, it's not even a real date." I told myself. Then there was a knock at the door. "Oh Christ he's here." I gulped.

I rushed to the door, and opened it. Tintin looked a lot better that me, he was wearing a simple blue tux. I looked up at him to see his mouth wide open. "Tintin, dear, close your mouth honey you'll catch flies." I told him. He snapped out of his daze.

"Abigale, you look stunning." He breathed out. I shook my head in disbelief, "No," I said, "I really don't. You on the other hand look dashingly handsome." He smiled. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Abigale?" He asked.

"You're not funny, being funny is my thing." I told him. He laughed, "Come on then, let's go." He put his hand on the small of my back and I stiffened up. "What? You said act like I like you, is this to much?" His whispered in my ear. "No, I'm just not used to physical contact." I told him. "Right, of course, perhaps around your waste then? I've never done this before." He asked/confessed. "Waist will be fine, just don't get to comfortable." I teased.

We walked down the stair cautiously, we were carful not to trip over each other. I felt really awkward. "Can we just hold hands instead, I've never done this before either." I blurted out. Tintin agreed happily.

His hand was unexpectedly cold, and rather soft. I wonder if he moisturizes? They were also somewhat callused, probably from all the dangerous things he does. I don't think I could ever be brave enough to do the things Tintin In counters.

I looked up and smiled. "Your quiff looks excellent in this lighting." I joked, trying to start a conversation and break some tension. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. "Why thank you. It took a lot to get it like this." He said. "You couldn't get it to stay down could you?" I asked. "Yeah..." He replied defeated.

We arrived at the restaurant to soon, time felt like it was flying buy me. Why was I so nervous? I don't even like Tintin. I squeezed his hand nervously.

"Ready?" He asked curiously.
"Ready." I replied.