(Untitled)

[patfiddlesticks]

Date/Time: 'The Shady Aftermath'; Nov 3rd, Tues; Afternoon
Location: Glasgow, London
Open to: Any
Involving; NPCs, James, Patrick

Comments

[jamessanford]

Ah, right. She did need to get back to the.. ah, estate, didn't she? He nodded grabbed his jacket, his house keys, and his cigarettes before looping his arm through her's.

"All right then," he replied, nodding. "Do this the right way -- you know how to get there better than I do."

After all, he wasn't going to waste travel faire to take a girl home when they could apparate for free. Psh.

[patfiddlesticks]

Anne-Laurie froze. Wait, he was going back with her. Slowly, she glanced over at him, then looked back ahead, blinking.

Oh, this wouldn't be good.

But she couldn't exactly tell him no, could she? So, swallowing, she nodded, "Oui." With a crack, they vanished, then appeared again at the Estate.

As she opened her eyes (she had a horrible habit of clenching them shut as she apparated), she let out a tiny sigh of relief. They were in what appeared to be a practice room of sorts - a small ballroom with mirrors and balance bars lining one wall, and mats spread out on the floor in a certain corner. An 8-track player sat on the floor by the far wall, next to a pile of clean towels. She had picked this place to go to in hopes that it would be empty, since Rochelle had been away so much that week.

"Here we are," she told him quietly, then glanced up to offer him a smile.

[jamessanford]

James looked around, his brows raised, obviously impressed. "So we are," he murmured, keeping his arm draped around her cozily. "Nice."

He waited, then quite quickly guided her through the door and into a corridor. "All right, so you gonna give me the grand tour, sweet cheeks? Please do. I can't bear to leave you so soon."

He smirked, watching her with that dark, manly gaze.

[patfiddlesticks]

Anne-Laurie took in a deep breath. Hoboy. "Oui," she replied quietly, albiet nervously.

As they started down the corridor, she was obviously looking around for something. They passed a massive amount of doors, about ten or so, each of which Anne-Laurie referred to as guest rooms. "They keep as many open rooms in their house as in their hotels!" she informed him, sounding almost amused with the fact. "Perhaps they one day move out, turn house into hotel as well. We never know."

After a few hundred feet or so, the corridor opened up into a platform with stairs curling down to the bottom floor. At the sight of this, she tensed up a touch. The front doors were right there, along with the room she pointed to and quietly informed him to be the parlor, then paused. She glanced both further down the hall and down the stairs. Obviously, either direction was bound to lead her to trouble. Down the hall? Patrick's bedroom. Down the stairs? Likely Alec, or maybe even a few of her fellow maids.

What a predicament.