The bags under her eyes were the sign of another late night spent at work and arguing via letter with the Oaf. She hadn't meant to call him a misogynist, not directly anyway, but he irked her so terribly at times she couldn't get him out from under her skin. It didn't help that they were still operating under the guise of an acquaintanceship. What the bloody hell was an acquaintanceship?!

She stumbled out of bed, her hair a mess and ink stained fingers rubbing tiredly at her eyes. Not even the prospect of attending the World Cup match was enough to rouse excitement. Not yet, anyway.

"Morning," she grumbled and flopped into her chair, thankful as always for Malou. Without her, Fallon would survive only on burnt ministry coffee. "Smells delicious, thank you," was her repeated mantra each morning Malou was around to make breakfast. She had a bite, then two. Before setting down her spoon rather abruptly and asking, "do you know what an acquaintanceship is?"