Nathan looked up sheepishly as his wife approached the desk where he was currently conversing with Hunter Bones and Ana. He'd left the house in hasty retreat this morning to avoid the mother-in-law's visit to pick up the kids (and undoubtedly pick fault with him), leaving Egypt to get the kids all ready and organised for their visit to Ghana. He'd have to take her out to lunch to make it up to her. He was pleased to see a smile on her pretty face. “Hello me darlin'.” He smiled at her. “How was the delightful Afia this morning?” He asked her with a boyish smirk.

As the conversation then descended into girlie talk of shoes and pink things, Nathan's attention soon wavered and he looked back down at the layouts he was working on, but looked up when he heard Hunter's comments about wanting to be shown the ropes in absolute detail, got his attention. “Chance'd be a fine thing.” He mumbled looking at her then looking around at the chaos in the office. “Problem we have here is management've hired too many people who think with the right side of their noggin.” He pointed at his head. “It's a recipe for disaster. We need more vertical thinkers... like your good self, love, to balance it out a bit.” He said with a wink. “Have you ever done anything like this before... employment wise, I mean?” He asked conversationally.

Humming a melody that sounded a little bit, but not completely, unlike Three Yoked Oxen in the Qinling Mountains, Pepper went about setting up his workspace. He'd been given a desk near the imposing door leading into the Archives, and whenever someone went in there to look something up, the scent of old parchment drifted over to where he sat.

He didn't mind though. From his bag, he extracted a small silver frame containing a photograph of himself and his wife. It showed the smiling pair of them, standing in front of Tian'anmen. Pepper was wearing a faded T-shirt with the album cover that had given him his name printed on the front.
The second item in his bag was a lot heavier and required careful handling. It was an old Underwood typewriter - Pepper had bought it when he'd first moved to London, as a sort of present to himself. It was purely mechanical and therefore worked even in the magical environment of Diagon Alley. He was perfectly capable of writing with a quill or a pen, of course, but the heavy clicking sounds the types made were strangely satisfying. (Just to him, of course. They regularly drove his co-workers nuts.)

The Underwood carried an engraving:

GOOD INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM IS A THING OF THE PAST.

With a contented sigh, Pepper sat down, surveying the array of desks around him.

Entering nervously throught the door to the large room, Emma peered around cautiously until she spotted the desk which was hers. It was near to the front, by the waiting area and Archives, and currently empty. But not for long. She went over to it and placed her bag on top, careful not to make any sound. She took out some ink, parchment and her favorite quill. Oh, and a bottle of water. Putting her back on the floor, she sat down in her chair and surveyed all of the other journalists in the office.

Journalists. Other journalists. It seemed weird to refer to herself as one of them, when only a few days ago she'd been working in the Ministry. It was a nice weird though. Very nice, like she'd finally acomplished something in her life.

Ivy saw a new journalist entering the room. She decided to go over to her, remembering how she felt on her first day. It was horrible, everyone stared at you and you felt so self-conscience. "Hi, I'm Ivy," she said, holding out her hand.

Emm was startled as someone approached her, and a pile of Parchment cascaded out of her arms. Blushing, she hurridly picked them up, placing them on her desk when she was standing. "I'm sorry," she muttered. Not understanding why she was apologising to Ivy. But she wasn't really apologising to Ivy, more to herself. For embarrassing herself on his first day. It was a sure sign, a sure sign that things were about to go downhill from now.

Smiling a little sheepishly, Emma took Ivys hand and shook. "Hello, Ivy," she greeted, looking down and away from Ivys eyes as she dropped her hand, not willing to embarras herself even more. "I'm Emma," Emma eventually added, glancing up and taking in the office, fiddling with a random strand of her short hair.

"Hi," Ivy said again, bending down to get a piece of parchment that Emma had missed. "Don't worry about it, the same thing happened to me the other day, I know how you feel" she gave Emma as warm a smile as she could manage. "What section do you work for?" she asked, just trying to make conversation because the feeling was horrible, it was like you were all alone, like the first day of school but much worse.

Emma blushed a little more as Ivy passed her the bit of parchment she'd missed, feeling embarrassed for being embarrassed. It just seemed so childish to her, but that was what she was like. Some people thought she had Aspergers Syndrome, a muggle disease, because sometimes she found it hard to interpret peoples emotions. But it was just necause of the secluded environment she had grown up in, and the one she was now trying to escape.

But Ivy seemed...easy to understand. She was trying to be friendly, and Emmas blush lessend a little bit when Ivy admitted that the same thing had happened to her. Although she wasn't sure if it was the truth, it was nice to be told, all of the same. "News," she said with a smile, glad to be talking to someone on her first day, and not just sitting on her own. And the prospect of her future work excited her. "You?"

"Lifestyle," Ivy said, flipping her brilliant blue hair out of her eyes as she straightened up again. "Well," Ivy continued, seeming a little disappointed,"I've got to get back to work" she said, putting on a glum expression, "but if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me," she said, smiling again.

Emma smiled softly back at Ivy, nodding her thanks. She knew that she should probably get to work, too, and sat quietly behind her desk, piling her parchment neatly this time, in effort to stop it from falling. This done, she sighed and sat back in her chair, pondering her new job. Was she glad? The straightforward, truthful answer was yes.

Was she nervous? The straightforward answer was No, of course not. The truth was Yes, hell yes. Although Ivy had helped to stop her nerves by being friendly, it wasn't completely stopped. What if she was rubbish? So stupid they kicked her out of the office? No, that wouldn't happen. She just had to tell herself that.

Jane arrived on time and cheerful, despite the fact that she'd been out the night before with Hunter, Rico and Ian. Oh squee, first name basis with people already! Including boss-type people! Of course the on time part was mostly because she was currently staying at the Leaky Cauldron, part of her interviewing and researching of course. One more night there and she'd have to head back to her own run down but cosy flat. She smiled to herself and took a seat at her desk. Of course she'd ended up in the leftover one, all the others were taken by the time Jane had first gotten around to unpacking her things and settling in. Her desk was wonky and she'd been using a few old books to prop it up since she started working. She made a mental note to pop out and see if she could find something a little more permanent on her lunch break.

Jane unbundled herself, taking her coat off, as well as her scarf, and gloves, draping the coat over the back of her chair and tucking the other bits in her desk drawer. STUCK desk drawer. She looked around and then gave it a thump, then let out a triumphant HA! When it popped open. Oh thats right trick drawer, you are no match for Jane Holland, journalist extraordinaire! It felt GOOD to have finished her article and interviews on time, she'd even started some of the groundwork for her next lot of articles. There was just something so satisfying about working on a series!

She settled into her chair, smoothing her dress, against her legs as she got cosy comfy. Jane started skimming through her notes, trying to decide which Diagon Alley Location she'd review next. Quality Quidditch Supplies? Because of the World Cup? Or... Gringotts? Because it was awesome? Or somewhere with a cute shopkeeper? Decisions, decisions! Oooh she'd forgotten to take her hat off! Jane hurriedly did so, tucking it in the drawer with her other winter stuff. She crossed her feet at the ankle and somehow found herself gnawing on the end of a pencil as she read her notes, losing herself in them completely.

Hunter slid onto the corner of Jane's desk and pushed an enormous mug of coffee across the desk at her. Hot, straight black, and strong enough to burn our your nose hairs. So basically... perfect.

"Bet you need that. So... are you aware your desk is somehow even more disreputable than mine?" Hunter slid right off the corner. She righted herself with a grin and hopped back onto the corner of a neighboring desk.

Raising her mug, Hunter toasted Jane. "Cheers."

Startled out of her reverie, Jane flung her pencil clear across the room and let her eyes trail after it sheepishly. Meant to do that. Totally. She flicked her eyes back to her desk, the coffee on it and the Hunter on it and looked up at the other woman.

"Mmmm. Thanks. Looks like murder liquid which is awesome because I am pretty sure I still have a few brain cells functioning after last night and I feel like I need to be a little more impaired to function around here, you know?" Jane picked up the mug and just held it with both hands, letting the warmth seep into her fingertips.

"Cheers." She agreed and smiled over the rim of her mug as Hunter moved to sit on a slightly safer desk. "Oh, I know, I got the short straw I guess. It was kind of the only desk left by the time I..." Changed her sweaty shirt and got rid of the toilet paper armpit flags? "...Settled in."

She sipped the murder liquid happily. See it wasn't that she was technically a coffee fan, she'd still chose hot chocolate over coffee any day, it was just that Jane was pretty sure, a coffee addiction went right along with being a journalist and so from the first moment she'd arrived in England to pursue her career, she'd cultivated a serious coffee addiction.

"I think I'm going to go find a brick later." She commented.

"Know I do," Hunter agreed, sipping her own coffee. It was awful, which made her grin at it just a bit. With a little lip smack, Hunter focused on Jane once again. "No clue who brewed it, but its just as bad as you'd expect this place to have. If it was better, we might get all caught up in fancy coffee and stop being able to string words together."

She kicked Jane's desk gently. "You can have my desk, if you want. The layout department had some sort of mass aneurysm and set me up with them. But all four legs meet the floor."

"I was ridiculous wasn't I?" Jane asked a bit glumly. Really, going out to the pub was one thing, but bouncing around in front of your new colleagues was a totally different kettle of fish.

She cringed as her desk decided wobbled precariously under the light kick that Hunter gave it.

"But I wouldn't want to put you out." Jane shook her head, blond curls bouncing every which way. She sipped the coffee and her eyes went PING. Murder liquid indeed.

"A brick will do, I have no idea if those books are important..." Jane trailed off and pointed at the heavy tomes that were propping her desk up. "I figured I can just.... prise a cobblestone free from the street."

"Planning to deface public property now, Lo--Jane?" inquired Ian. He was simply in the Journalists area because he heard voices; female voices; voices that did not belong to Sienna.

Who was--where? Probably in her office. Whoop-Dee-Doo.

"Are you going to make Hunter your accomplice? I'm not sure that's the kind of image we want to convey here."

Because Ian Hoshino was all about image; clearly.

"I think you were genius. Charming and witty and fun," Hunter toasted Jane once again. Really, Jane made the whole event bearable. Rico was the boss and so... intimidating. And Ian was a prat-faced git!idiot. GRRR.

"But we make so much more money than before, Janey," Hunter grinned at the idea of Jane tearing up the street. "Surely we can afford fancy things to prop up your desk. Antique tea sets. Persian rugs. Things." Hehehe.

And then there was the git!idiot himself. He earned himself a glower. "No one wants to hear from you, Hoshino. Move along to your pretty pictures."

"You are just too nice to me Hunter." Jane answered, sipping at her coffee and offering a warm glow of a smile. It had really been a good thing that she hadn't had all that far to stumble last night and she was very grateful that the beds at the Leaky Cauldron were precisely as comfortable as advertised. She hadn't even undressed before practically passing out on top of the comforter.

"I happen to think cobblestones are perfectly serviceable desk-propping devices." Jane answered archly, though she added a little smile for Hunter, kidding along with her.

Jane half turned in her chair and let out a small laugh at Ian's comment.
"Maybe I just like to live dangerously! Besides it isn't like I'd be sent to Azkaban for taking a bit of old brick." She held up one finger and waggled it at him. "And, we are the press, so even if we get caught we can totally give it some awesome spin and everything will just be fine and dandy."

She sipped her coffee again and nodded in innocent agreement to Hunter's comment. Pretty pictures indeed.

"Oh speaking of pretty pictures I was hoping you'd come along with me for my next Diagon Alley feature, take a few nice pictures?"

Ian raised one brow at the journalist' hostility. Well, someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. "I quite value your opinion too, Hunter Bones," responded Ian sarcastically and glanced over at Jane with raised brows.

As Jane spoke, Hoshino shifted his weight to his left leg. Ah, couldn't she get someone that wasn't him to do it? Probably not. Who was on his team? He couldn't even remember a name besides yogurt cup. She'd sure love it at the Leaky.

"Sure," Ian mumbled at last, pinching the bridge of his nose. "As long as we don't have to stay there for very long."

He wasn't even sure if they had gotten rid of the hag, but she'd like to sit near one of the booths and stink up the place.

And so Hunter was shut OUT. Sigh.

Fine. Let them talk photography when she was attempting overt gestures of friendship at Jane. And stupid Ian Git-face ruined it.

"I'll let you two talk shop." IGUESS. FINE. WHATEVERIDON'TEVENREALLYCAREOKAY? She slid off the edge of the desk and shuffled toward her own.

Meh. Maybe that crazy cleaning frenzy lady wanted to be friends?

Wasn't it awesome that they were all getting along?

"You don't even know where the next feature is going to be!" Jane laughed, "How do you know it won't be somewhere that you want to spend a little extra time at?"

What was wrong with his nose? Jane tipped her head to one side and examined it before realising she was staring. So of course she blushed and attempted to hide it behind the coffee mug which was actually empty now so she was sipping at nothing.





Oh huh?

Jane watched after Hunter in consternation, her coffee mug listing to one side and making it obvious that there was nothing in it.

"Did I...?" Do something wrong? Jane was clearly crushed. So she had to go requisition a cobblestone on her own?

"Its... its your shop too, Hunter." She called after the other woman.

"I don't do well in unfamiliar places," informed Ian. He had shut his eyes briefly at Hunter's little -moment- and tightened his hold on his nose. Opening them once more, his dark gaze found Jane's eyes trained on him. Curiously, he raised a brow and brought down his hand.

Artfully, Hoshino shrugged one shoulder. "Oh, don't mind Hunter, Jane," he drawled, making his way to her desk. He eyes one of the missing legs briefly, pursing his lips as he did so. "I think the one who's in the wrong is me. I might have intruded on something."

Some kind of...female...thing, clearly. Offering Hunter a crooked smile, he nodded. "My apologies?"

"Don't play noble, Hoshieeeeee," Hunter drawled with a simpering smile. "You don't have to pretend with us."

There was something to be said for collegial relationships. It was pretty much the only restraint keeping Hunter from throwing a flying tempter tantrum. Apparently, Hunter's inner child was a spoiled toddler.

She sighed and reseated herself on the desk near Jane's. "Sit, Hoshino. We'll all be friends and plan our Diagon Alley takeover."

Again, a single brow rose to the mission. Ian Hoshino stared at Hunter for several moments. What was going through that pretty (albeit stubborn) little head of hers was completely unknown to him. It couldn't be anything in his favor, obviously. Hoshino glanced over his shoulder, brow still hanging there, for some kind of male savior.

It never arrived.

"Explain to me, please," he began, by sitting/leaning on a corner of Jane's desk. "Why would we be bothering to take over Diagon Alley?" Before he had his proper cup of coffee? Enviously, he eyed Jane's.

Watching that exchange expectantly, clearly expecting someone to explain what exactly she'd just missed, Jane smiled and relaxed when whatever it was, sorted itself out.

"I was thinking something a little more covert." Jane giggled, imagining the three of them ninja-ing into the street and prising up a cobblestone (or two or three or four), then disappearing again. Her little imaginings were reminiscent of the games she played during childhood, when she thought she was soooo sneaky and her parents had noooo idea that she was sneaking in and out of the room. Except they kind of had.

Jane put her empty coffee cup down on the desk and smiled sweetly. "Anyway, you aren't interrupting anything. Hunter was just being nice enough to bring me coffee."

Which meant they were friends now. It was easy to bond over a developing caffeine addiction.

"Someone has to be in charge of Diagon Alley. It's just being completely mismanaged. None of the shop signs are hanging in complimentary colors with the others. They're completely ignoring Feng Shui and bringing much bad fortune to..." Hunter snorted and nearly wobbled off the desk.

"Fine. No taking over anything. I bet the Ministry would frown on the Prophet's annexation of Diagon Alley anyway," Hunter summoned a mug from the coffee station for Ian. It almost hit him in the head before settling on the desk next to him.

And then she summoned the brimming coffee pot. "I'm quite good at getting coffee, you know? I should get paid extra for it."