Hello, here is the other half of the previous chapter, I finally finished editing it, so I really hope you enjoy it, let me know in the reviews

When Tintin woke up, sunlight was streaming through his bedroom window. He looked up and checked his clock.

It was past 11 the next day.

Tintin sighed. All the good jobs down on the dock and at the market would be taken by now. Nothing had been lined up for him. For some reason though, it did not seem to faze him. He knew, deep in his heart that it would be some time before he could get enough money for his ship. Smiling lightly, accepting his fate with some resolve, Tintin decided to eat something and head over to Haddock's mansion. He would have to tell the captain they would need more time, perhaps wait for the next year. It was not ideal and Tintin was not overly happy, but he knew ultimately it was the best decision and also much better for his health. Determined to settle into his new course of action, Tintin washed his face thoroughly and set about making a breakfast for him and Snowy. Seeming to notice the change about his master, Snowy weaved in and out between Tintin's legs, barking happily. Tintin smiled.

"I know Snowy, it will all work out," He stated this for his own mind more than Snowy's, not that his dog did not understand the resolve in his voice, they had been together long enough to know each other quite well. Tintin soon sat down at his little table with a full omelette on his plate and wet food mixture set on the floor for Snowy. Stretching his arms over his head, Tintin yawned. He had not felt this well rested for a few months. He would have to start looking for a solid job, not one that would kill him, but one that would give him a solid income. He wondered briefly if he could check back in at his journalist post. The job had sustained him for years, but after the whole debacle through Haddock's mis-purchase, Tintin had not had time to search for scoops when what he really needed was money. It was to say that he had quit journalism, it was too big a passion for him; the posts on the wall proved that. The adventure of sniffing out a story was what Tintin lived for. There was no time like the present to begin looking for a mystery to solve, a story to cover or someone to represent. Tintin rubbed his hands together before he began to eat, excitement coursing through him. After all the hard work he had endured over the course of two long seasons, he relished the idea of getting back into the business of sleuthing and writing up the story. It occurred to him slowly that he had a mystery on his hands as of right now.

With his fork in his hand, Tintin took another bite before standing up, tilting his head against the window to look down at the front of the building. The little space was desolate and Tintin sat down, disappointed. His mystery man had said something about coming in today to check something. Although, Tintin now realized he could've missed him sleeping in. Frowning, Tintin continued to eat his meal; finishing up feeling, he felt filled and satisfied. His dishes in the sink and Snowy circling his legs once again, Tintin took out his note pad. Tapping his pencil against his chin, he brought back the details of last night before writing them down; all the words he could remember about the man, what he looked like, what he had been wearing and everything Tintin heard him say, which wasn't all that much. Something about checking in today at the front.

Tintin snapped his fingers suddenly.

"The front! Of course, the man must have talked to Mrs. Finch about something! Come on Snowy, we'll go to Mrs. Finch!"

With the fire of a new case flooding through his system, Tintin rushed into his bedroom, throwing on decent brown slacks and his favourite blue sweater with a sharp white collar. After brushing a comb through his hair a few times, he rushed back into the main room. Snowy barked excitedly as Tintin slipped on his shoes and threw on his tweed travelling coat and sleuthing hat. Tintin barely had time to grab his notebook as he dashed out of his room. So, of course he did not see the girl coming up the stairs toward him and before he knew it, he'd run straight into her. Snowy barked loudly and Tintin rubbed his head, not fully processing his situation or the girl before him. He picked up his hat, brushing of his trousers, mumbling an excuse.

"I really am sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going- ,"

Tintin finally looked up caught sight of the girl before him, who was brushing off her stockings. His mouth dropped and he quickly scrambled up, offering his hand to her. She smiled at him and took it and he helped her up, but he was still overly excited and he pulled too hard, causing the girl to race herself against his chest; she stepped back and away from him. Tintin just stared at her.

She was quite beautiful. Her hair was almost as red as his own, but looked to be mixed with some darker brown. It was long and she wore it down. She wore a simple looking grey dress, that is to say, simple compared to some of the flashy dresses he'd seen the women of the town wear. Her eyes were dark brown and Tintin could not help but wonder if the sparkle in them was from tinge of gold in her eyes or just the sun. The young women brushed down her dress once more and looked up at Tintin, a soft smile on her full red lips.

"It's quite alright, you looked to be quite in a rush,"

Tintin rubbed the back of his head, his hat hanging limply in his other hand.

"I was. Are you alright?" He felt awkward and embarrassed, feeling the heat of a blush rushing over his cheeks. She smiled, noticing Tintin's redness.

"I'm fine, I'm used to roughhousing,"

Tintin burned red and he rubbed neck again, opening his mouth to explain that he hands meant to be so rough; the girl laughed softly.

"I'm only kidding, I'm alright," She held out her hand to him. "My name is Aurora Stanton,"

Tintin, still trying to recover himself, took her hand in his, still holding his hat. She smiled softly and he released her hand and replaced his hat back on his head, tipping it to her as properly as he could, his blush diminishing.

"My name is Tintin, it's a pleasure to met you Aurora,"

Aurora's eyes flew wide.

"You're Tintin?"

Tintin tilted his head. Had she heard of him?

"Yes,"

Aurora stepped forward and took his right hand in hers, shaking it warmly.

"So you're the one who fixed up my flat!"

It was now Tintin's turn to look surprised and he placed his other hand over hers, the awkwardness of the situation melting away. He now knew who this girl was and he couldn't help but feel happy at finally getting to meet at her.

"Then it really is a pleasure to meet you! Mrs. Finch mentioned you would becoming today, I must have forgotten," He let go of her hands and she smiled.

"I must thank you Mr. Tintin, I could not have been happier with the colour of the walls and I love the textured wall paper you chose. I was slightly worried about a man decorating the room, but I had not reason to be. You are a expert,"

Tintin could not help but blush again.

"Thank you, ma'am. You can call me Tintin,"

Aurora smiled at him turning around, laying her hand on the banister of the next set of stairs, looking back at Tintin.

"Alright Tintin, well you can call me Aurora, I won't have any ma'am. I'm not old yet! I hope to see you again, I must be off now, lots of work to do! Good day Tintin," She waved softly and glided quietly up the stairs. Tintin waved after her, seeming to be stuck in time as he watched her leave.

"Goodbye Aurora," his voice was soft and he shook his head as he looked down the stairs to the lobby. She was his new flatmate? She was… what was she? Tintin could not think of an answer for himself. She was rather pretty, although Tintin had never put much thought into that kind of thing. He shook his head again; not seeming to be able to shake the image of her smiling face out of his mind, and trudged slowly down the stairs, Snowy racing after him. Tintin still had a far away look in his eyes as he stood by the front desk, leaning against wooden desk, looking out the door. He had almost forgotten what he came downstairs for in the first place.

Mrs. Finch, having heard the noise of him coming, bustled out of her room and stood behind her desk. She smiled at Tintin, who did not seem to notice her presence, staring ahead, having taken off his hat, now twirling it in his hands.

"Well, well Mr. Tintin, you look redder than a tomato,"

Startled, Tintin turned to her, his blush deepening.

"I- uh..I bumped into Miss Stanton… ," he laughed awkwardly and looked out the door again, hiding his red face. Mrs. Finch noticed and smiled to herself, looking down pointedly at some papers on her desk.

"Quite exquisite, is she not Mr. Tintin?"

Tintin twirled his hat a few more times, looking down at it like it was suddenly very interesting, before clearing his throat and looking up again.

"Um, yes.. yes she is. Quite lovely in fact. Very nice girl,"

Mrs. Finch smiled knowingly.

"She could not have been more pleased with her new flat. You did a wonderful job Tintin, she loves it,"

Tintin looked down at his hat again, placing it back on his head once again. He was ready to forget the awkward meeting behind and return to his sleuthing.

"Mm, yes, she mentioned that. Now Mrs. Finch, I must ask. Was there a man in this morning?"

Mrs. Finch looked at Tintin in surprise.

"Yes, there was. A dark looking fellow, must have been from the East,"

Tintin took out his note pad and jotted something down, nodding along with Mrs. Finch.

"Darker skin you say? What did he look like?"

Mrs. Finch tapped her chin with a finger, thinking for a minute.

"He had a long nose, a drawn skinny face and dark, deep set eyes. He spoke with a thick accent, but I could still understood him. What's this about Tintin? How did you know about him?"

Tintin continued taking notes as he answered.

"I saw him last night from my window, I had never seen him, but he said he was going to check about something at the front tomorrow. I'm looking for a mystery and this is the closest I can find. So, Mrs. Finch, what was this man asking about?"

Mrs. Finch looked Tintin straight in the eye.

"He asked if I had a new tenant, by the name of Aurora Stanton,"

This is sort of a cliffhanger, but not really. I have a plan for the whole mystery of the man at the window, but it will be through out the story. I hope you enjoy!