Yay! Our hero and heroine finally meet! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. School, baby-sitting, and a whole bunch of other crazy business has been hogging up my attention. And I'm stuck with plans and arrangements for a big event of my life (no, I'm not getting married, and my birthday's not for a while). And hopefully, I can get started up on a couple of one-shots for Area 52 Triad. Okay, enough excuses, enjoy yourselves in a new chapter, lads and lassies.

"M-Miss Campbell?" Jeffrey stuttered a bit. Quite the unexpected turn-up on the day you go home for Christmas break. "What a surprise to see you here."

Charlotte blinked a few times in shock at the sound of her name. She gave him a stare that bored through his head. She stood her ground in preparation for this guy.

"How do you know me?" She asked. If this guy was a stalker, she was so onto him.

"You're in my dance class at Northampton." He explained.

She cocked an eyebrow. Okay, so maybe an insane stalker. Or maybe not with the accuracy of Northampton. Or maybe so if he was a telepathic stalker or a Sherlock Holmes type of person. Elementary, my dear Miss Campbell. She could imagine him saying, the detective outfit and all. She didn't want to take her chances by giving her own specificity. Yet, out of all this, she kind of recognized him.

"Okay...Professor Hemingway, right?"

"Yes. Oswald Hemingway, to be exact."

"Okay. Okay...I know we're in the same class. I've seen you before. Sorry about that."

"Quite alright. That I know as well." After a few seconds, something struck him. An American with a British accent? "Wait a minute, I thought you were an American."

Charlotte raised her shoulders in a shrug as if saying "whatever." "I'm British. My wardrobe plus the fact most of them have never seen me before sets ideas off. In our class I happen to be what an American might call a dead hoofer."

"No, no, no. Not at all. You may have had a bit of struggle but from what I've seen you're an excellent dancer, Miss Campbell."

"Really? Thanks much." She saw the little modest smile on his lips. "No, seriously. Thank you."

The two sat down and stayed silent. Charlotte kept a couple of feet away from this man just in case he was a stalker or some creepy person who, well, stalks other people. For the next twenty minutes they took turns jumping up when a bus arrived only to sit back down in disappointment when every bus was heading anywhere but Hertfordshire.

Boringly, Charlotte shivered a bit and tapped her shoes together to the one-two-three, one-two-three of the waltz she learned in class. In his mind and with his humming, Jeffrey improvised at songs to the beat of the not soft but not loud tapping of the young woman's feet. His mind was switching back and forth from a couple of romance songs he'd hear in Mildred's room to a couple of Christmas carols. He found himself snapping his fingers to that waltz beat and humming "White Christmas."

Charlotte listened intently to the muffled crooning and recognized the waltz beat. "'White Christmas,' come to think of it, has a waltz beat." She informed.

"Yes, that's what I was working on." Jeffrey said.

"I don't know if you're trying to suggest something, but if our bus isn't going to get here any time soon, would you like to practice?"

"I don't see why not." Jeffrey wrapped his arm around her back as Charlotte rested her hand on his shoulder. The two grasped hands nervously. As the two stared at each other, Jeffrey gulped. He had never danced with an American - wait! - this strange girl before. He had heard so much about her yet this was the farthest he had got with her.

Charlotte began the beat before starting the song. "And one-two-three, one-two-three. She started off with a gentle alto croon.

IIIIII'mm dreeeaaamiiinnng of a Whiiiiiite Christmaaaaas,

Just like the ooonnnnnes I used to knooooooowwwwww.

She stopped in the middle of the song as well as the waltz. "Why did you stop?" Jeffrey asked.

"I just saw a bus..." Charlotte began. He cocked an eyebrow. "That looks like it might take us home."

And indeed, a bus going to Hertfordshire finally pulled up to the bus stop. Enthusiastically, Jeffrey and Charlotte lifted up one of the lockers and steadily wandered over to the door. Passengers grumbled about the wait for the two young people getting their luggage onto the bus. Slightly intimidated by the tough crowd, they waited to talk until they found a seat. And so they did and sat down by a window on the bottom part of the double decker bus.

She laughed. "So, I know this is a little out of subject, but you're probably wondering on the whole clothes thing. I may be British, but I happen to have relatives from America that I see off and on. Hand-me-downs from them explain the wardrobe."

The hand-me-downs thing wasn't a lie. When America was rationing during the war, it was difficult to get new clothes due to the fact clothing factories were making uniforms for the army. The thing was that America's rationing ended in 1946, when Charlotte was thirteen. So she got hand-me-downs, just not as recently.

"You've quite the interest on your disposition, Miss Campbell. Well, from what I've seen. It's a wonder we haven't made each other's acquaintances."

"Let's see about that. You may have heard about me courtesy of my deadhoof-ery. I've heard about you from my dormmate, Allison Hardy, and her darling acquaintances. We've made eye contact during class, soooo...virtually, we have."

"Ah. But we've yet to complete it, Miss Campbell."

"Charlotte. Just Charlotte. Jeffrey Hawkinson, right?"

"Mm-hm. If you want specificity where in Hertforshire, I'm from Watford."

"I just moved to Hatfield about six months ago."

"That's fifteen kilometers from where I live."

"Make that fourteen and a half kilometers." Charlotte gave him a smug smirk. "I've been there before, but maybe once or twice."

Jeffrey was a litle surprised. They barely met, and yet she was already playing the wise guy. And a very clever wise guy she could be. He decided it was about time for a comeback. "And would you consider us acquaintances now?"

"Hmm..." She thought out loud hesitantly. "Yes. Nice comeback. So, outside of dancing, what else do you do?"

"Welllll, I invent things like, gadgets, and things that I believe could help mankind. And I really enjoy working with all sorts of sciences. I would've been a scientist but due to financial situations couldn't."

"Well, not a scientist with a degree. But still a scientist. As my brother told me, a scientist means one who knows. There might not be funding from the government or a university or a prestigious lab with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of equipment, but you could still be a scientist." That made Jeffrey smile. "So, what fields do you specialize in?"

"I haved enjoyed nucleonics since I was about thirteen after the two atomic bombs in Japan. And for the rest of the sciences, I find something that catches my interest, develop an obsession, learn as much as I can about it, and when I find something else, the cycle starts again."

"I know only some about nuclear physics from my brother Joseph and what he's told me. Not that he wanted to become a scientist or anything." She felt a slight pang in her heart.

"What about now? Does he still find interest in them? I don't mean to be rude but I'd like to make his acquaintance."

Charlotte looked down and shook her head. Jeffrey understood as he saw her facial expression.

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"It's fine. He's been gone since 1943, so it's been a while." She lifted up her head and shyly grinned. "He would've really liked to meet you."

"1943...that's before the bombing. So he must've liked it before that."

"Mm-hm. Especially with the works of it being done by scientists such as Henri Becquerel and Otto Hahn. He found out all about it while reading a newspaper article about Madam Curie's death."

The young genius and immigrant continued on conversations about their lives to pass the time. All the while with Charlotte keeping her past and American geneaology hidden. The bus stopped in Hatfield a while later, and Jeffrey helped her get her locker toward the stop.

"Thank you very much." Charlotte said graciously.

"You're quite welcome." Jeffrey bent down to lightly kiss a gloved hand.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, acquaintance. I'll see you again in January, Jeffrey."

"With pleasure, Charlotte. Farewell to you."