My first fanfic. Okay, so, I was surfing for Tintin fanfics and was surprised to find next to none. There are some on deviantArt but I'm not too fond of them. So I thought to myself, 'I know! I'll write one myself!' And so I began. I'm a fan of the comics but am disappointed by the complete lack of female characters, so I'm writing a major female character in this story.

Note: There are probably some inaccuracies regarding the newspaper, Le Petit Vingtieme. I do own a copy of 'Land of the Soviets' but my attention span isn't that good and so I'm not sure about the editor of the paper or where the office would be. But hey, this is fiction.

Disclaimer: Almost every character belongs to Herge and not me. Respect to Herge nod. Constructive criticism is accepted and encouraged on a first fic, but flaming will be frowned upon.

--------

Chapter One: An Irritating Presence

It was late summer. The leaves on the trees were beginning to turn orange, and the air had a distinct smell of autumn. It was still warm though, pleasantly so. A gentle breeze blew through the street in Brussels where the office of Le Petit Vingtieme was located.

On this particular afternoon, a boy was to be found walking down the street. It was hard to tell his exact age, though it could have been anything between 16 and 20. He wore a long brown coat, and his hair stuck up in a stubborn tuft. Around his ankles walked a small white dog. The dog's name was Snowy, and his owner was named Tintin. Today they were going to Le Petit Vingtieme for news on a new mission.

"This one should be exciting, Snowy!" Tintin told his dog. "They sent a telegram to Marlinspike, saying that they're sending a photographer with me this time. I only hope he's good."

It's jolly hot, Snowy thought to himself, panting. I only hope the evening is cooler.

They entered the office of Le Petit Vingtieme. There were three desks and four people inside. Two people sat at their desks speaking on the telephone, and the two others sat at the main desk. One of those people was the man Tintin had come to see – Jacques Hebert, the editor of the paper. Hebert wore small, round spectacles and was smoking a cigar. With him was a girl slightly younger than Tintin – Hebert's daughter, probably, she looked about the right age. She had long red hair, braided and tied with green ribbons, and her eyes were very blue.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hebert," Tintin said politely. Snowy wagged his tail in greeting.

"Oh hello, Tintin!" Hebert said. "Jolly good to see you after such a long time. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

"Good, good. And how is old Calculus and that friend of yours...er...Commodore Haddock?"

"Captain Haddock. They're both doing well, still at Marlinspike."

"Excellent. Now, do pull up a chair, dear boy, and we will get to the crux of the matter."

Tintin borrowed a chair from the nearest desk and sat down. The girl watched him. He found her presence slightly irritating, and frowned at her. She bit her lip in an ill-concealed smile, and looked at Hebert.

"We've received news from London," Hebert said, "and we want you to be the first to write it up in a report. There's been a series of kidnappings."

"Kidnappings?"

"Yes. Four children have gone missing, all from very upper-class families. The odd thing is, there seems to be a link – the fathers all know each other, but they don't live anywhere near each other. The police are working on it, but we want you to do a special report exclusively for Le Petit Vingtieme. Therefore we have booked a flight for you, straight to London, tomorrow morning. Your photographer will also go with you. I would like you back here in nine days time, with the report and photographs. Be at the airport at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Mr. Hebert. Goodbye."

Hebert gave Tintin a parting wave, and then began to dial a number on the telephone. The girl was watching Tintin again.

"C'mon Snowy," said Tintin, "let's get back to Marlinspike. We must pack before tomorrow."

He turned and left the office, Snowy at his heels. As he did so, he noticed the girl get up and leave too. Ignoring her, Tintin and Snowy made their way back down the street, towards the train station. After a minute or two of walking, Tintin looked over his shoulder. The girl was at the other end of the street. He turned a corner. She turned it after him. Tintin wound his way through a busy marketplace, then looked back again. The girl was still following him.

After some time, Tintin and Snowy reached the station. Tintin looked around for the last time. The girl was walking towards him.

"Will you stop following me?" Tintin exclaimed. The girl looked surprised, then cross.

"Some of us have trains to catch too, you know. You're not the only one." She was French; he recognised the trace of an accent in her voice. She walked away from him, towards the platform.

They waited for ten minutes, neither looking at the other. When Tintin's train arrived, the girl boarded it too. She made her way to a different compartment, giving him one last curious stare. Tintin and Snowy sat in an empty compartment, and soon the train began to move.

"What an odd girl," Tintin remarked to Snowy. "I hope I don't meet her again."