He was done. Finished. Today had been Roger's last day working as a security guard at the docks. He had planned it to correlate with Bea finishing her final examinations. His manager had been said to see him go but Roger felt it was time. And it actually worked out as well - now he had a bit of extra time to help Bea. It still brought concern whenever he thought about her father's letter. He regretted not having a lot of time to keep an eye on her this past week - not that she wasn't capable of taking care of herself. He just felt protective and he didn't want anything to happen to her.

After saying goodbye to his coworkers and former boss, Roger made his way from the docks. He received Bea's message about meeting at the university and he guessed it had something to do with her father's things and his latest letter. If they could figure out what friend sent it, they could backtrack it and maybe find the other half of the map - thus another good reason he was finished with his job. He wondered what the map would lead to. What had Professor Brown discovered that someone would kill for? Mysticism was on the rise. Roger was aware that it was becoming very popular and people were looking into it for different reasons - some for weaponry to break this cold war. As much as the mystery fascinated him, he wasn't to excited about the fact that Bea was caught up in the middle of all this. 

Glancing at Big Ben, he noted the time. No doubt Bea was caught up working that she failed to notice the time. He smiled slightly. Typical. She'd probably work through lunch if he didn't show up. Stopping by the little cafe, he picked up some sandwiches. The waitress smiled at him as she handed him the back. He was oblivious to the fact she liked him but that wasn't unusual. Smiling, he thanked her and headed toward the university. 

Oxford University was a very prestigious university. It was one that had offered Doctor Brown a position when mysticism started to become more popular. But of course, by that time, the Professor really didn't want anything to do with them - or anyone for that matter. When the university offered to hold the belongings for Bea, Roger had been a bit surprised. He hoped they wouldn't just dig through them trying to get what they wanted. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. Sure, they probably hoped they would get some research but they had kept everything locked up with no one disturbing it without Bea's permission. In fact, they had even given her a locked room to store it so no one else could access it. 

He walked down the long hallway he balanced some drinks in one hand and the bag of sandwiches in the other. Passing several doors, Roger didn't bothering to look at them. He knew where to go. Though he had only been there once, the way was still crystal clear for him. It was always like that. If he went somewhere once, he remembered how to get there again. Coming to the end of the hallway, he moved the to his left hand so he could knock. He knocked firmly on the door - not to loud to scare her but still a solid knock. "Bea. It's me." He said. "And I brought lunch." His smile was evident in his voice. 
----
Estella carried the box through the docks making her way toward Landing Platform 32E. She still hadn’t really found another position yet – anywhere. Not that she had been looking a lot. Rufus had been keeping her fairly busy with repairs and deliveries. She smiled. He was such a good friend. Of course, if he had his way she would stay working for him. Well honestly, that’s what he always said though she knew he wanted what was best for her – in his gruff old way. Though he was going to be sad when she moved on. And she would. There was only so much work he can have her do. All his complex problems, she fixed already and he really didn’t have the work to support her. No. Another day or two and she’ll probably move on. She probably could find something here in London – it was a big enough city and though there was a lot of conservative mind sets, there were many who wouldn’t mind bringing on a tinkerer – female or not. But no, she didn’t want to stay. London was a bit too big for her. You can take the girl out of the country but not the country out of the girl.

She reached the platform. Shifting the box slightly, she paused a moment to admire the airship. It was an older model, a bit banged up in a spot or two but still in decent shape. She smiled. Juggling the box of parts to one side, she rested it on her hip before running her other hand along the hull in an almost caressing manner. She loved old things. Something like this had a lot of personality to it. And that made it almost lifelike – real. Of course she could be just a crazy ol’ tinkerer. [i]“Hello there.”[/i] She whispered in Danish, her hand feeling the slight vibration of the ship’s engine. Her voice was low, quiet - as someone sharing a secret. [i]“Where have you been? What story do you tell?"[/i]   

The box started to slip so she quickly grabbed. Reluctantly, she adjusted the box back to both hands. It wasn't that heavy. Apparently they hadn't needed that many parts. Still - it had been a bit of a walk from the shop and her arms were getting a bit tired. Besides, they probably wanted to get moving some time today. She gave the ship a slight smile before turning. The smile faded slightly as she spotted someone - a young woman - watching her from the doorway of the airship. She didn't blush but Estella did feel a bit of embarrassment as she wondered how long the woman had been watching her. Sure she was used to getting strange looks but she felt a bit more vulnerable when other women were involved, especially ones that looked a bit aristocratic. And this young woman might not have been, but her dress, looks, and even the way she stood made Estella painfully aware she was wearing a stained blouse and trousers. That was the problem and a main reason she didn't have a lot of female friends. She was a tinkerer. She was around grease, junk, and mechanics. She rarely wore dresses and her hair was usually always pulled back or just fell in a mess around her. Most females didn't understand that - well most people didn't - and even if they didn't say anything Estella always felt they looked down on her. She pushed the thoughts back. You'd think she would have gotten over this by now but apparently not. 

Now none of the conflicting emotions showed on her face. Other than a brief surprise, her face had a polite, closed look. She gave smile, one never guessing the irritation and inadequacy she had just been feeling. "Hi, delivery from [i]Repairs and Parts.[/i] Is Captain Axfield or your mechanic around?” She asked. She still had her Danish accent, though it wasn't as overpowering as it once had been. She shifted slightly and maintained eye contact. She was good at this game. She had learned long ago how to hide her thoughts and keep her face impassive.