Archie's light, practised hand stole across the page, his pencil scratching gentle arches and curves into the paper. His back was against the concrete corner of the dead-ended backstreet, littered with rubbish and papers that the wind occasionally tossed about as Archie sketched into the book.

Archie's face was concentrated but calm, his eyes gently watching his ever-smooth hand stroking the paper with the pencil as he drew. The sketch was still in pieces: scratches of charcoal denoted arms, curls of hair, smiles on faces, shining eyes and legs of various shapes. But that was how Archie drew; in pieces at first, slowly coming together of it's own accord. His pencil leapt between parts of the picture, and Archie couldn't help but appreciate the quiet calm that engulfed him in his snatched moments spent sketching.

The padding of footsteps startled Archie from his moment of solace. His eyes glanced up quickly, already hugging his sketchbook to his chest. No one had any reason to wander down here by accident.

Her long red hair and red tank top made Archie recognise her in a second. Handbag slung across her body, green eyes quietly inquisitive, Theresa gently tip-toed over to Archie. Archie, terrified of discovery, tried to think of something to distract Theresa as he pulled his sketchbook tight against his chest.

Schoolwork. I'll say I'm doing schoolwork.

A-and in the back street because…. because the Brownstone is too noisy.

"I know that's not schoolwork." She said gently, although the words still made Archie shudder. This was why Archie had a problem with Theresa. Nothing was private around here. Theresa's long, elegant form leant against the brick wall, arms crossed and smiling kindly at Archie.

"No, it's, uh… for school. English." He stammered, his heart beating a little too fast for comfort.

Theresa raised an eyebrow.

Bloody psychic.

"In a deserted backstreet?"

"The brownstone's too busy. Too loud for study. Gotta, uh, keep focused and all."

Theresa smiled at that- it was a knowing smile, and Archie suspected she didn't need to use her powers to figure out he wasn't being totally truthful here.

"Sure." Theresa's eyes travelled down to the ground, and she kicked at the dirt with her shoe, watching it grind up. "Arch…?" She began.

"Yea?"

"You don't have to keep so many secrets."

"I don't keep secrets!" Archie stammered, much like a knee-jerk reaction. "I mean, like, only the normal amount. Everyone has some secrets. It's what people do."

Theresa sighed quietly to herself. "Yea." Her eyes lazily flitted up and down Archie, whom was still on the ground for now, cross-legged and still clutching the sketchbook. "Well, it's a pretty amazing drawing of the team. You should show it to them when you're done." Theresa pushed herself off the wall now, ready to head home but still watching Archie.

"After all, I play the lyre."