October 1st, 1895 - Halloween Party

Barnaby had convinced her to be a tad more adventurous with her time, so on her day off, she'd headed to London to the little Halloween event at the ice cream parlor. Normally she would have avoided somewhere so busy, but she was trying to be better about getting out and about. Her ghostly shadow hadn't been around when she'd left, but she was sure if he appeared at the house the maids would tell him where to go just to get him to leave. It was strangely endearing, but she would never admit to it aloud. At least she could say she had some sort of friend. It was more than she could say a few years ago.

The little shop was crowded, but Tabi slipped in anyway, taking in the decorations and everything with a small smile. It was charming, the way the lights and little bats floated around. She was enchanted by the whole thing. She couldn't help but to duck as a little bat went flying by and laughed at herself for her reaction. Tabi wasn't sure if she would be participating in any of the games, they all looked a little out of her depth, but this was one step at a time. Just coming today was a good way to dip her toes into these more informal settings. She used to be somewhat comfortable at balls, especially the ones for the hospital, or at a masquerade. Those were her favorite. Anywhere she could be a little anonymous.

Hopefully there were enough people around here that she could just come and enjoy some ice cream without it being a big deal. Tabi hated to attract attention, so hopefully she could just blend into the crowd. There were so many activities going on that Tabi was content to just watch for a few minutes. It would be better with some ice cream, of course, so she joined the queue to get a scoop, looking at the flavors on offer. They were quite different, but she wasn't sure what to try. She hummed out her indecision quietly, happy to wait a moment while she figured out what she wanted. Tabi tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she looked over the case one more time. "Oh I have no idea what to get." She mumbled to herself, stuck in the indecision of making a choice.

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Rhett Colton

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   Rhett Colton

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The doorbell gave a delicate chime as Rhett pushed his way inside the crowded shop. The absence of his spurs clinking faintly as he walked across the tiled floor felt strange to him. He paused just past the threshold, blinking at the sight before him. The little shop was lit by flickering gas lamps, their glow reflected in the glass jars filled with sweets and toppings for the ice cream on display. Behind the counter a young woman in a frilled apron smiled brightly, her cheeks painted with a dab of rouge and unless his eyes deceived him, a small black triangle on the tip of her nose - a cat's nose. The decorations were amusing as well, and he occasionally moved his head this way or that to avoid a collision with a bat, or even a spider that charged from the ceiling before retreating back once again.

He tipped his hat politely before removing it and brushing his hair back from his face. “Afternoon, ma'am,” he said. “I was told there was a saloon of sorts around here. Seems I may have taken a wrong turn.” Rhett said. He was, of course, speaking of the Leaky Cauldron. The woman laughed over the hustle and bustle of the room, which seemed like it was enough to make the brass fixtures tremble at times. The woman looked slightly confused. “Only ice cream here, I am afraid. Rum raisin, perhaps?” She replied, gesturing to the marble counter within which were great metal tubs sat half-buried in frost, each one labeled in careful copperplate: Vanilla Custard, Strawberry Fool, Treacle & Walnut... and that is where the names stopped making a whole lot of sense to him.

The cowboy squinted, the sobering realization that there wasn't an ounce of whiskey packed on ice back there. He'd seen ice cream, of course, but he'd never brought himself to actually try it. He moved next to Tabitha and leaned on the counter, curiosity flickering behind his dusty green eyes. He'd crossed deserts where the sun could melt a man's boots to the sand, and he'd felt less bewildered than in this moment. He heard the soft voice next to him speak up, to herself by the sound of it. Taking a step back from the counter he looked down at Tabitha, just at the moment she tucked her hair back. Rhett swallowed hard at the gesture. It was best not to notice it now, but that sure was a pretty ear.

He shook his head a little and refocused. “That makes two of us, darlin'. I was about to ask you for suggestions, but I reckon you're nearly as lost as I am, judging by what you just said.” He smirked some, giving his experienced face a hint of boyish charm. He extended his hand toward her, the sleeve of his red and tan flannel shirt was rolled to his forearm, the hand itself was rough and calloused along the pads of his palm. “My name is Rhett, Rhett Colton.” A grin spread across his face, giving him a remarkably friendly but rugged appearance, his other hand held his hat at his side. “Maybe we could help each other out of this mess,” he commented before nodding to the ice cream. His voice was deep but traveled well over the others.

  

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You know I recall somebody saying, "There ain't no cowboys left."
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Thank you so much for the graphics, Bee!

Her cheeks flushed when she realized that what she’d mumbled to herself had been overheard. It was a habit long ingrained into her mannerisms from working over cauldrons and in the store room of the hospital brewing potions. Fortunately, she was most often by herself for such occasions and therefore nobody was there to overhear her. Unfortunately, it seemed that she couldn’t quite kick the habit even out of the hospital. Surely Barnaby would have told her if he’d noticed? She should work on that.

The accent caught up with her before the embarrassment and Tabi had to quirk an eyebrow, clearly a little confused. She could have one of her own, considering she’d been raised in a bilingual household of English and French, but her pronunciation in English was good enough that nobody had ever commented on it. She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to being called “darlin” either. “Oh, I have a favorite flavor,” she pointed to the chocolate cherry that she usually got, “But there are new seasonal ones I think I would like to try.” It came out as the honest answer, because she couldn’t think of what else to say.

She took a moment to assess the stranger more closely. He was incredibly tall, dwarfing Tabi by a whole foot if she had to guess. He was clearly not from around here, judging by the accent and the hat, but he had a tough sort of handsomeness to him that was hard to miss. Charming certainly, but Tabi tended to pull that out of people unintentionally thanks to her lesser-half. The introduction also had her pressing her lips together to hide a smile. If it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t from around here, he certainly hadn’t any idea of proper introduction etiquette. “But I’m happy to help if you’d like. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Colton,” she couldn’t be rude and leave him without returning the favor. “Tabitha Chevalier.” She supplied her name easily enough, but was still a little flustered by the whole thing already.

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   Rhett Colton

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The smile on Rhett's face grew as he saw the flush in her cheeks, and he had to fight it from spreading even wider when she corrected him on his mistake of assuming she had been as ignorant as himself. 'Chocolate cherry', he repeated the words in his head. For some reason those words just etched themselves into his memory like a chisel striking stone, and for the life of him he didn't know why. Once he realized that no handshake was forthcoming, he withdrew his own and tucked the index finger of that hand into his pocket, resting it there. A little color was rising in his own cheeks, and he too, was feeling a little embarrassed. Between this and getting his guts kicked out by a mule, he'd pick the mule.

In Rhett's line of work, you had to know how to read a face for even the most subtle of hints. So, when she became a little flustered, he caught it. “Beggin' your pardon, Ms. Chevalier. I hope I haven't upset you none. I was just lookin' to pass a few friendly words, is all. I hope I ain't gone and offended you somehow.” He brought his hat up between both hands, and thumbed the brim of it idly. “I'd love your help, and I tell you what, how 'bout I buy your ice cream to make up for it? That Pumpkin Patch Crunch looks mighty fine.” He said, knowing that he would have rather hexed himself directly in the head, than to say the words 'pumpkin patch crunch' aloud, and silently vowed to do so if he ever uttered them again. But the color in her cheeks made him feel compelled to do something to make amends.

She had been polite as anything, but she seemed the sort to be polite, regardless of circumstances. He too, had noticed the size difference between them, and he felt keenly aware of it just then. Rhett was unsure if he should step back or not, concerned that he was invading her space or making her feel cornered or pressed. He was a man with a wand arm quicker than a rattlesnake, and yet this small woman, in an ice cream parlor of all places, had momentarily disarmed him of his surety. Slowly, one boot moved backward a couple of inches, followed by the other. He hoped the movement went unnoticed, at least consciously. He could not be more out of his element.

The girl behind the counter heard his words and immediately recognized an easy customer. Before he could even get Tabitha's opinion, two sundae glasses were placed on the counter, each filled with Pumpkin Patch Crunch and topped with whipped cream. “Reckon I'm a bit of a fish out of water, if you catch my drift. Ain't got the hang of how things work 'round here just yet.” He felt like he was talking himself into a hole, but he didn't know how to stop digging. He paid the girl, tucked his hat beneath his arm, and turned to face Tabitha—holding a glass in each hand. “Say, I noticed a few tables out front, care to join me for a spell? Maybe polish off these 'seasonal offerings'? You could even go as far as to point out all the ways I'm being an idiot, if your feelin' generous. Course, you don't got to if you'd rather not, or if that breaks some rule I am currently unaware of. Wouldn't dream of pressurin' you none, Ms. Chevalier.” It was the only plan he had, which wasn't saying a lot at the moment.

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   Tabitha Chevalier

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You know I recall somebody saying, "There ain't no cowboys left."
-
Thank you so much for the graphics, Bee!

There were certainly words coming out of his mouth, but between the accent, the word choice and perhaps something of… Twang? She didn’t know how to describe it, but Tabi was getting a little lost. It sounded nice enough, overly friendly even, so she didn’t mind, but it left her in the awkward predicament of pretending to understand what he said and asking him to repeat himself.

She didn’t have much of a chance to decide as the young woman behind the counter sought to choose for them (rightly so, they were stalling the queue) and so she was faced with a hopeful offer to try the ice cream outside at one of the tables and Tabs had always had a hard time saying no. (Especially after she hadn’t shaken his hand.) "Of course," she agreed. He had been awfully polite so far, even if she still wasn’t completely sure of some of what he’d said. Tabitha hadn’t missed that he’d followed through on paying for her ice cream, so it would be rude to turn him down now. She took one of the glasses in his hands gently into her own and smiled at him, albeit a little uncertainly.

Leading the way to the door she peered around and thankfully found a little table near the edge of the building to seat themselves at. "I assume it is safe to say that you are not from around here then, Mr. Colton?" She posed the question lightly, once she was seated at the table, ankles crossed beneath her chair, hands folded neatly in her lap. Could he even fold himself onto one of these diminutive seats? Tabitha eyed him curiously, wondering just who she’d found herself having ice cream with unexpectedly, but in the sense of having an adventure and meeting new people, she supposed she was succeeding today. She had to wonder if Barnaby would be impressed or vexed by her new company. Likely the latter and now she hoped (for once) that her ghostly shadow would not appear at the most inconvenient of times.

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   Rhett Colton

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Rhett would’ve been the biggest liar on earth if he said he had expected her to go along with any of it at all. However, when she took the glass from his hand, he was absolutely delighted. She had a charm about her, that much was undeniable. Of course, he had no way of knowing about her Veela heritage, but it didn't matter a lick, because it wasn't that part of her that was so alluring to him. It was the innocent confusion spread across her face and the feeling that they had, at least to some extent, put one another off their footing. Rhett found himself trying to stifle a chuckle that threatened to rise out of his throat at any moment. He had always been one to laugh easily, but lately, those moments had been harder to come by. So, he was thankful for even the hint of it now.

He turned to follow his new guide out of the shop and onto the street. The shadows were getting longer as the sun was trying to disappear behind the horizon, and a certain chill fought with the remaining warmth of the air. Now that they stood at the tables, it became painfully aware to him that he had misjudged the size of the chairs. Catching her glance, he was pretty confident it had occurred to Tabitha as well. “Who designed these godda...” He caught himself mumbling under his breath, and stopped abruptly. He wasn't about to speak any profanities in front of her and worsen her impression of him even more.

When she had fully seated herself, Rhett found his eyes taking in the length of her figure, and he inwardly smiled at her crossed ankles. Like her, he wasn't sure who he was sharing his company with, but he didn't regret it for a moment—though he would've preferred to have pulled her chair out for her. He slowly lowered himself into the one opposite her, trying not to miss it altogether and end up on the cobble stone beneath it. Once he had situated himself, he placed his hat on a nearby hook that had perhaps been used to hang a flower basket that summer. Finally confident that he wasn't about to introduce his face to the bricks he smiled uneasily at her. He looked rather comical, a man of his dimensions occupying such a small piece of furniture. “It looks like you wrangled me into a make believe tea party.” He said, with a slight laugh at the end.

“No, ma'am, no I am not. I am from the United States. Texas to be precise.” He tried to drop the twang as much as possible and to speak clearly to her. He wanted her to enjoy his company and not to spend the entire time guessing as to what he was trying to say, and he had the hunch she'd been doing just that. “I am an Auror by trade, and I wanted to see the land where my mother grew up. That is why I am here, if you were at all curious. I am assuming you are from these parts yourself? Though, if I am honest, you don't sound exactly like the others, there is a little something extra there.” Rhett said before lifting his hand and turning it a little side to side to make his point, before lowering it again and wondering how on target he actually was.

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   Tabitha Chevalier

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You know I recall somebody saying, "There ain't no cowboys left."
-
Thank you so much for the graphics, Bee!

Satisfied he wasn’t going to fall over or from the chair entirely, Tabitha reached for her ice cream, drawing it closer. She could smell the pumpkin and different spices already and was innately curious about the taste. Nearly as much about her new company.

The States, that made sense, though Tabs hadn’t the faintest idea where Texas was exactly, she supposed it also explained his somewhat rough manners. Not that she was going to say anything about it. If she were being honest, she didn’t mind. There was no skirting around the introductions or guessing at intentions. The forthcoming invitation was sort of refreshing. “We do enjoy our tea around here.” She mused, taking a bit of the ice cream delicately, savoring the flavor for a moment. It had a rich roundness to it that she liked, but it was strong. Just a little would go a long way.

His explanation for his visit made some sense. Tabitha had grown up here, though she hadn’t been born here. An auror though, that was also exciting. Tabi couldn’t even imagine such a career, but she was more often on the other side of dangers like that, which was where she preferred to be. She hoped this explanation put to rest his inkling that she didn’t sound like everyone else; of course she didn’t. The tone of her voice had a quality to it that stood out no matter how hard she tried to flatten it. “I have lived here most of my life, but I was born in France. We moved here to be closer to my father’s family when I was a toddler.” Not entirely unlike Mr. Colton’s reasoning, though she thought likely for a different reason beneath the rest. Her father had enjoyed his time in France, but her heritage mixed with her grandfather’s passing had pushed Harlan Chevalier to return to his mother’s family here.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about the States at large, is it much different where you’re from than here?” She asked, genuinely curious as she took another spoonful of ice cream to give him time to answer.

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   Rhett Colton

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Leaning back into his chair, as much as he could, he tried his own ice cream as she spoke. It was delicious, and the way his green eyes lit up for an instant, betrayed him. When she went on speaking about her past he found himself genuinely interested. Though, to be honest, she could've told him about the finer arts of watching mortar set between bricks and he would have been just as happy. She put him at ease, and that wasn't something easily done—not when you lived your life with your back up against one wall or the other. It was something in the way she carried herself that did it, and he didn't quite know what that was. It was somewhere between eloquent class and tender friendliness, and Rhett felt oddly comforted by her presence, though she knew nothing of his struggles. It was enough for him, now, to simply share the table with her.

He had never imagined for a moment that he would find himself jealous of ice cream, but as he watched her spoon rise and fall, he felt a keen hatred for every bite she took. While he had been denied a handshake, he was forced to watch a piece of cutlery take the glory from the field. The chill he'd noticed before grew a little as a cool breeze rushed through Diagon Alley and pulled him back to his senses. It wasn't enough to feel it in your bones, far from it—but it was enough to give your skin goose pimples and make your hair stand up. Rhett, seeing that small hand wrapped around her glass, produced a red bandanna quicker than a lightning strike. It was clean, neatly folded, and starched. The cowboy leaned forward, unfolding it as he moved. His eyes locked with her own for a moment, and he nodded gently as he slid the fabric around the base of her sundae, his fingers touching her own softly as he did so. “There you are, darlin'. So you don't freeze your little fingers right off.” His eyes insisted on his action, and said without a word that he would suffer no appeal.

Taking another bite himself, he pondered what she'd said and responded with a sagely nod. “Like I said, it's not a big difference, but it's there. I am happy to know the story behind it at any rate.” He nearly continued that thought but knew better.

“Texas is a great deal different from this place, you could say. It's a hel.. whole lot warmer for one and a lot drier for another. Sort of the gateway to the 'Wild West' as they say. Now that, I have no doubt, you have heard of. It's a little bit easier to find a bite to eat there as well.” He laughed a little, and gave her a playful wink. “That is the root of our little adventure as it were. I was trying to rustle up some grub for dinner at a place called the Leaky Cauldron and rustled up a Tabitha by mistake.” When he realized he’d used her name, he closed his eyes tightly for a brief moment and held up his hand. “I apologize, Ms. Chevalier. My desire to win a giggle or two, beat out my manners and commonsense. Please, don't take offense at that.” Slightly ashamed of himself, he took another bite in silence, if only to keep himself from speaking. There was a touch of color settling into his cheeks.

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   Tabitha Chevalier

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You know I recall somebody saying, "There ain't no cowboys left."
-
Thank you so much for the graphics, Bee!

Tabitha leaned back a little as he leaned in. There was something intense about his gaze that had her momentarily awestruck, remembering herself after his fingers brushed against hers. The handkerchief was unexpected, but thoughtful and Tabi righted herself after a moment, feeling the soft fabric beneath her fingers instead of the cold of the glass. There was that darlin’ again and Tabi felt the flush rising on her cheeks. Surely he knew that wasn’t exactly proper? Maybe he didn’t. It was truly hard to tell if this was just how he was, if she was having too much of an effect on him, or if he didn’t care about those sorts of things. He was turning out to be quite the conundrum.

She was starting to lean toward the explanation that she was influencing the interaction unintentionally, but there wasn’t much she could do about it without shifting her whole demeanor. If he only knew the actual story, he might not be so friendly.

And then he went and caught himself, apologizing for the breach of decorum and she softened again. “And now you’re having pumpkin ice cream for almost-dinner with a stranger instead.” She mused, allowing a small smile in spite of herself. “No offense taken, though I daresay you might give someone with more sense a jolt, tossing around casualties like that.” While Tabitha didn't stray from conventional social expectations, she didn't really mind when people happened to make mistakes. She had never met anyone from the States before, but she had heard their mannerisms could be a little rough as sometimes. It wasn't all that big of a deal, just something attributed to differences in expectations and culture.

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   Rhett Colton

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Rhett was a man who spoke with his eyes, he'd learned to use them because words often failed when dealing with someone who was set on killing you. Though he never said it, nor allowed it to enter his conscious mind, he enjoyed the expression of awe on her face. It was a silent confirmation that his intention had not been a reckless discharge, but hit just where he had been aiming. His eyes drifted momentarily to her bottom lip, hoping to catch a flicker of movement or even a pout to go along with that subtly stunned expression—though it was not as forthcoming as he had hoped. Regardless, he was happy she'd made use of the bandanna.

He didn't know her thoughts from anything, but her being half-Veela made no difference to him. He wasn't motivated by lust nor captivation—although, she was indeed, captivating. He was not a man to give himself over to seduction, be it intentional or unintentional, in the same way he was nearly impervious to stress. He was, in most respects, rock solid, and did not hand over the reigns of his emotions unless he truly meant to. Rhett was simply happy to be there, with her, and earnestly intended on enjoying the moment. While he had loosened his grip somewhat, it was not in a way that her innate charms could easily take hold. Rather what he did feel was generated purely by Tabitha being her natural self. For Rhett, the Veela part of her acted as a mere honing of the gifts she held, regardless of heritage—but it was not the star of the rodeo.

“Thank you, offending you is the last thing I'd ever wish to be guilty of.” He said, acknowledging her forgiveness. “I don't rightly understand the rules of this game, if you take my meaning? Where I am from, you tend to say what you mean and mean what you say. That is, certain things I do may come across as forward or unmannerly and that ain't my intention.” He released his spoon and sort of rolled his wrist as he spoke, “the bandanna for instance,” and he nodded towards it. “I could have minded my own business and watched as your fingers turned white from cold, but why would I do such a thing? It is my opinion that certain mannerisms serve to hide a laziness, or even a lack of responsibility in a man. If I see something that needs doin', I do it. I suppose, deep down, I felt the need to say your name and it just sort of bubbled up and surprised me. It's a very pretty name, Ms. Chevalier, and I suppose I just wanted to try it out for myself. It is a habit I will try to keep in check while in your company.” He smiled warmly at her, his words were genuine and he was not one to mince them.

He bit his bottom lip, hoping he hadn't said too much. “Would you like to take a walk with me around Diagon Alley after we've finished? There is still so much I ain't seen, yet. I give my word that I will be on my best behavior, and follow every social etiquette that I am aware of. Cross my heart, and hope to die.” The cowboy gave her another wink as he quickly crossed the center of his chest with his index finger. “I ain't forcing you into anything, mind, just offerin' it. Is that agreeable to you?” There came that boyish smile again, putting him somewhere between southern gentleman and clever rogue. His eyes glanced to her hand and saw no ring, and she'd mentioned no husband nor betrothed, so as far as Rhett was concerned he'd broken no boundaries. Now that the battlefield seemed a little more open before him, he was prepared to take the war into different quarters, and he'd hear a giggle escape her before the sun went down if it killed him.

  

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You know I recall somebody saying, "There ain't no cowboys left."
-
Thank you so much for the graphics, Bee!

Tabi listened to his explanation quietly, taking it in as she took a few more bites of her ice cream. It was interesting, to hear the different side of things. It was clear that his upbringing was vastly different from hers, but she found herself more curious than anything else. He was forthcoming with information, and though she couldn't imagine being so straightforward, she didn't mind not having to play the guessing game. She looked down at the handkerchief beneath her fingers, shielding her from the cold of the glass. She hadn't really felt it, but it was a thoughtful gesture nevertheless. Quietly, she agreed that there could be a degree of laziness hiding behind manners, but Tabitha had never been the sort to shy away from being of assistance in any way. Maybe that was why she liked her job so much.

The compliment to her name had her cheeks tinting pink again. It was really starting to become a problem. Her her skin was so pale that it had to be obvious even in the dimmer light of the late afternoon. "I do not mind showing you around, if you would like." Tabitha smiled softly. She was a woman of few words. Tabi tried to be careful with what she said, sometimes because of the veela half, sometimes because she thought that she didn't need to say too much, just enough to convey what she thought. Not to mention Tabs had always thought herself to be a better listener than anything. "I do not mean to be strict about societal conventions, it is just how I was raised." She offered by way of a little explanation. British society at large was much more regimented than even the French of her childhood. Tabitha was a product of spending most of her life and living under the expectations placed upon her. She tired to be the modest, reserved lady of her peers, but deep down she was always at war with a passionate sort of beast that she'd spent her whole life trying to tame and tamper down.

"We cannot have you starving because you cannot find the Cauldron, after all." The jest was lighthearted, only a fraction of what she'd heard form him so far. Fortunately, the Cauldron was hard to miss at the far end of the Alley itself, surely he would find it eventually, but there were plenty of other shops where one could find something to eat or even a meal. It was unlikely that he would starve, but Tabitha did enjoy London very much, so she didn't mind giving him a tour for a little bit. She didn't have anywhere to be until dinner itself, which she would have to excuse herself for at some point, but it was still a little ways off yet.

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Rhett watched as her cheeks turned a shade of pink, each time she blushed was more exciting than the last. She walked the line between exquisite beauty and charming adorableness, effortlessly—and the cowboy didn't know where to have her. He had to admit, there was something special about Diagon Alley that captured a sense of magic he hadn't yet known. While the people around him were not his countrymen, they were more than that in a way, and he hadn't experienced such a concentration of magical folk since his schooling years. The atmosphere had him more alert and attentive than usual, and that was saying a great deal, as nothing got by the auror. That being said, it made each blush appear, at least to him, as the first and last sunrise of his life. Perhaps that was too much weight to attach to such a thing, but Rhett didn't do anything by halves.

He nodded in agreement when she offered to show him around. “That sounds lovely, Ms. Chevalier, honestly. You have made my afternoon.” When she went on to explain her intentions concerning mannerisms and the sort, a part of him regretted hearing those words. He found the thought of her scolding him here an there for some slip in decorum to be little exciting. There was something about the image of this small woman, her eyes aflame with dignity and scandal tongue-lashing him for being an 'unmannerly and vulgar cur' or some such thing, that amused the hell out of him. He thought it best to add getting 'thoroughly scolded' by Tabitha to his mental checklist, right beneath 'making her giggle'. Outwardly, he only nodded.

He didn't know about the shame she carried, or that she struggled daily with a part of herself that she was less than proud of. Had he known such a thing, he could've perhaps said something to put her at ease, to let her know it didn't matter a bit more than anything to him. Rhett laughed when she mentioned the Leaky Cauldron, and it was a deep and pleasant sort of laugh, the kind that was unforced and genuine. As his laughter faded, a smile was left behind that reached his eyes and he cocked his head to the side like an inquisitive beagle, ”Ms. Chevalier, did you just make a joke?” He said before taking another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. When they had both finished, he stood and returned his hat to its proper place.

“Allow me, darlin'.” Rhett said, placing one hand on the back of her chair and his other stretched out for her to take, so that he could assist her in standing from the table.

  

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You know I recall somebody saying, "There ain't no cowboys left."
-
Thank you so much for the graphics, Bee!

"It's been known to happen, from time to time." Tabs quipped before she could catch herself. It was better than blushing again, at any rate, though she was sure it happened anyway. She didn't have many friends with whom she could joke around with, so she might have been out of practice, but Mr. Colton did not seem to mind. It felt appropriate, given their unorthodox meeting. Not to mention, she wasn't ready to admit her most stable friendship was with a centuries-old ghost who served as her best chaperon as well.

She had finished enough of her ice cream to satisfy the curiosity over the flavor (she liked it) to easily accept Mr. Colton's hand up. The hat was an amusing addition. It made him stand out even more, especially given his height, but she could not help but to think it suited him immensely. It certainly fit her image of where he was from better. Though she didn't know much about Texas, she was slowly getting a better picture. She picked up the glass using Mr. Colton's handkerchief and moved to set both of their glasses aside with the other dishes so someone else could use the table.

With that accomplished she toyed with the fabric idly in her hands, thinking about where best to show him first. "Is there anything you need specifically for your stay or would you just like to walk the Alley and see what there is to offer?" Which was essentially anything wizarding kind could need, but if he had anything in mind, they could start there.

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Barnaby Wye has blanket permission to interrupt Tabi's threads, please reach out if you do NOT want this to happen!