Pecksniffian

Hey guys, let me tell you, I'm seriously considering dropping all pretenses of a plot or story line and just writing little snippets about François. I adore this guy; you have no idea how much fun I have thinking up his dialogue and his mannerisms.

Of course, I won't do that, because I hope you all want to know what's going on at that dig site and I'd be an awful cad if I just dropped out right in the middle of a story. So, here we have them safely on dry land again and on their way to Atlantis (maybe).



François couldn’t have been less inconspicuous if he had tried.


Even Charlotte looked chagrinned to be seen in his company and Amanda could only laugh. It seemed that François’ idea of what was proper to wear on an archaeological dig was firmly planted in the Victorian era.

“Where did you even find a pith helmet?” Amanda chuckled. François chose to ignore her; he straightened his khaki bush jacket and dusted off his leather boots. Amanda nearly fell over with the effort of trying not to laugh in his face.


“You didn’t think I would walk around half naked like you and Charlotte, did you? I am a gentleman, after all. And besides,” François adjusted his pith helmet, “I don’t want to get sunburned.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Quatermain.” Amanda burst out laughing despite herself.

“If you two are quite finished making a spectacle of yourselves, I suggest we start for the dig site. It is a long drive and I’d like to get there before dark.” Charlotte, as usual, was all business. “And please, let’s not forget why we are here.”

“We’re digging up Atlantis!” Amanda wouldn’t let Charlotte’s frosty attitude get her down. There hadn’t been a major dig of such historical significance in years and she had a chance to be a part of it, to get her hands dirty again.

“First off, Amanda, I highly doubt that this is actually Atlantis. And second, we are not digging it up. We are here to make sure that these treasure hunters don’t unearth something terrible. We don’t want a repeat of Provence, now do we?”

Charlotte quickly turned and headed for their hired truck leaving Amanda feeling like a chastised child. François put a gloved hand around her shoulders and gave her a little hug.

“Do not worry, mon petit. She is only saying that to get you motivated. And she knows how much she needs you on this; she may know a great many things, but she is no archaeologist.”

Amanda smiled as best she could, but she remembered François’ troubling dreams and couldn’t help but wonder if they were heading for trouble.