Hey guys, this chapter is fairly short and I do apologize, I haven't had time to edit the other half, I will update later, probably on Thursday, for both my stories if I can. I hope you enjoy this one, I had time after my clinic shift!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Adventures of Tintin

"Why Tintin, this is remarkable!" Mrs. Finch stood in the door way, looking around the finished flat as Tintin walked around the floor, giving all the boards a final stability test. Finally satisfied, he looked up and smiled at Mrs. Finch.

Tintin had to admit that this had to be some of his best work, turning around on his heels to survey the room for himself. The floors were perfect, solid and level, each plank matching the next. Around the area of weakness, he had added several coats of plaster and now everything was neat and secure. There was a small amount of spring in the boards still, but not enough to cause any problems. After he had successful plastered the walls to hide any cracks or divots, he'd set up sheets of wallpaper, leaving a straight line of ripples, going each way around the apartment. The painting of the textured wall paper had been harder than Tintin had originally thought, but he had finished it, making sure to check every crack between the ripples, providing two layers of the brilliant sky blue, with the just to right amount of green to match the sea. Tintin could not be happier with the way it had all worked out. Hands on hips, he smiled, feeling great pride as he collected his tools and stepped out the door to stand with Mrs. Finch, who smiled brightly at him.

"I don't think any professional could have done better. Thank you kindly Mr. Tintin," she shook his hand gently, handing him a sealed envelope stamped with the building name. Tintin took it gratefully and Mrs. Finch started down the stairs.

"You'll find a little extra in there, I told the owners about the painting you did and made sure they reconciled you for it. Have a good evening!"

"Thank you Mrs. Finch!"

Taking a deep breath, Tintin looked once more into the little flat he'd remodelled. It had been his home away from home for a week now and he was sad to leave it. He would be back on the docks the next morning, he had arranged to clean one of the tank ships, due to arrive around 5 o'clock. Sighing, Tintin walked down the stairs, back to his own flat. He could not help thinking that he would never see the inside of that flat again. He was so busy that he doubted he'd ever get the chance to meet the young women who would live in his little castle. It weighed on his shoulders as he opened the door to his flat and stepped in, feeling right away the loneliness of his dingy flat. It was stark in contrast and Tintin winced. When would he get the chance to fix up his flat?

Snowy barked up at him, pummelling his knees and Tintin looked down at him, smiling happily; Snowy always knew how to cheer him up.

"I guess one day we can do the same for our little house, huh Snowy?" The white terrier wiggled around by his feet, barking in excitement. Tintin reached down to ruffle his ears. The white dog followed him as he walked over to his window, sitting down a moment at the table, looking out over the little town. The streets were fairly quiet and considering the lateness of the hour, Tintin was not surprised. He had worked to the last hour and it was near on 7 o'clock. Reaching at his grumbling stomach, Tintin looked down at Snowy, who licked his lips.

"High time for dinner, eh Snowy?"

Snowy barked and Tintin stood up to walk to the kitchen. But before he could, something caught his eye. A movement on the street caused Tintin to stop and look down at the street again. Snowy leaped up on the table and looked down with his master. Tintin's curiosity peaked when he noticed a figure standing by the door of the apartment, his face covered in a large black cloak and tipped grey hat. Frowning, Tintin pressed his face to the glass in order to get a better view.

"That's strange, I don't recognize him," Tintin could just barely see the mans face, only catching a glimpse of a long nose and dark skin before the man turned around as if talking to someone. Tintin strained to look more. Was there someone else standing out there with him?

The clocked figure turned further so as his back was turned to Tintin. He looked as if he was talking to someone through a phone of sorts, some kind advanced walkie talkie from what Tintin could see. Itching to know more, Tintin lifted the lock on his window quietly and pushed the window open without so much as a tiny squeak. The man did not seem to notice as Tintin leaned out, turning his head in the hopes of catching any conversation he could. He was in luck as the man seemed to be in a heated discussion, as if trying to make the person on the other line understand something. Unfortunately the man had a heavy accent and Tintin could only pick up a few words out the long stream. He did his best to decipher.

"No no… tomorrow… checked with front… coming tomorrow… check back… ,"

Tintin leaned out further, not caring that his entire torso was leaning out. Snowy whined at his side and pawed at his back. Ignoring him, Tintin tried to pick up more, feeling his belt catch on the wooden frame off his window. Suddenly, he felt himself begin to slip. Pulling back quickly, leaned precariously out the window before Snowy pulled on his leg, causing Tintin to slid back into the window, crashing into his chair as the window slammed behind him. Snowy yelped and snuffled Tintin's face as he pushed himself up, scrambling up to look out once again. He hit his fist on the window sill. The man was gone, no doubt hearing the noise from Tintin's flat.

"Oh crumbs!" Frustrated, Tintin sat back down. What had that been about? What had the man checked for tomorrow and why was he coming back? The adventurous part of his brain kicking into full gear.

"Who was he looking for?" Tintin took one more look outside before walking into his kitchen, still thinking about the conversation. He had checked at the front? Did he mean he had come into the building to check about something? Or had he merely stopped to make a call outside the building. Tintin was too excited now to eat, his mind working double time trying to solve the mystery. Snowy on the other hand was still hungry and barked at Tintin until he was rewarded with a full bowl of food. As Snowy ate, Tintin nibbled absentmindedly at an apple. He had half a mind to go ask Mrs. Finch if anyone had come in to ask her something, but he knew that it was too late now and he hated to bother her on her hours off. Irritated at the questions he had unanswered, Tintin finished off his apple and decided to get ready for bed. He would need a good night's sleep. Although he was not sure if he could sleep with a mystery on his mind.

Tintin was exhausted. Dragging his legs with every step, he made his way along the docks, narrowly dodging other people as he walked with his head down. Snowy was acting as his eyes and barked anytime Tintin got too close to anything. The two made their way slowly back to the apartment building.

Tintin had just finished a long 12 hour day of cleaning every square inch of the tank ship. Arriving at the dock shortly after 5:30 that morning he was only just now walking home shortly before 6 o'clock that evening. Every bit of him hurt and he was only just dimly aware of Snowy guiding him through the familiar little town back home. Tintin was starving and he could hear his stomach complaining; the muscle of his legs protesting every movement. He wished that he were still fixing up the little apartment above his own, the stable job had been perfect for him and better for his health. Although it had paid well, no thanks to Mrs. Finch's added tip of 50 dollars, Tintin was still not much closer to his goal. He groaned and took a moment to lean against a lamppost, his head in his hands. Snuffling at Tintin's legs, Snowy whimpered softly, not understanding his master's sudden turn off of route.

Slowly, Tintin stood back up, shaking his head rather sharply before continuing after his dog. It all seemed really useless, what was the point? He couldn't make enough money to sail out by the spring, it was already starting to warm up with the promise of the new season. Groaning, Tintin made his way through the streets, back to his apartment. He briefly wondered if he would see his mystery man, but he was too tired to hang out and wait. Dragging himself upstairs, he unlocked his room, Snowy squeezing through the door ahead of him. He stumbled in and without so much as a splash of water on his face or bite to eat, Tintin collapsed on his bed and fell asleep.

Anyway, sorry it is so short, I really hope you guys enjoy it. Leave a review and let me know!