First sentence started this entire story. Well, yes – literally, but what I mean is that I had that sentence pop into my head and wondered what would happen if Tintin's latent sexuality was given a jump start by an unlikely source. Just where would that lead?

This was one that was giving me fits. Started to go one way, then another. Had it almost done and pulled out half the chapters and started over.

Hopefully I pulled it into something worthwhile. Let me know, if you would – please?

Must credit Disney's movie 'Beauty and the Beast' for one small line or two in this (if anyone even picks it out) – probably nothing, but I'd rather not lose the couch if sued. It's a comfy couch.

And speaking of lawyer stuff - don't own Tintin & Company - Moulinsart does.

Any and all grammatical errors are due to the usual fumbling fingers, sheer blindness and total disregard for language - English or otherwise.

…

"She's pretty."

Tintin made a small sound of agreement.

"You should ask her to dance."

He glanced over disbelievingly. "I'm sure her dance card is full." He murmured calmly.

"It will be by the time you get over there, lad. Blisterin' blue barnacles, boy! You've had your eye on her all night!"

He turned to regard the dark haired, bearded older man with surprise. "What…I…I've done no such thing!"

Captain Archibald Haddock paused to light his pipe and then grinned good-naturedly at his younger friend.

"Oh, who are you kidding, lad? You've kept her in your sight since she arrived at this shindig."

Tintin couldn't help the grimace that slipped over his youthful face. There were those who would describe it as a baby face. He was well aware of the fact that he looked much younger than he really was. And though that normally wasn't a problem, in this case…it could be downright disastrous.

But one thing was true. He had been following the young lady since they had arrived.

He and the Captain had been invited to a ball by the local potentate. Having just saved the man from certain financial ruin, and considering the ball was given partly in their honor and partly as a celebration, they didn't feel they had the right to refuse.

Even though both of them were exhausted from having traveled to three continents in just seven days, been tied up and rolled in carpets at one point (fortunately Snowy had arrived to chew the ropes and free them), held at gun point at another (the Thom(p)sons arriving just in the nick of time) and had just managed to catch the criminals after traveling long miles on foot, rounding up the authorities and busting into the den of thieves just as they were getting ready to disappear into the shady underworld forever. There had, of course, been a fight.

Instead of just accepting the man's thanks and traveling back to Marlinspike Hall for a much needed rest, both had agreed to stay one more day and attend the party.

And that was when he saw her. A bit taller than he, but then who wasn't and her height might be accounted for heels she wore under her dark blue dress. Blue that was the same shade as the sky just after sunset on a warm summer day - the same shade as her eyes. Eyes that sparkled when she laughed and she laughed often, tossing her head with its mass of silvery ash-blond hair back. A hue that complimented her skin tone: a warm and glowing, sunny cream. Her features didn't need but were enhanced whenever she laughed - a smooth brow, wide eyes, straight nose, and a mouth that was sweet yet had firmness to it, same as her chin.

She was no simpering fool, a giggly little creature; she clearly was amused and was not afraid to show it.

Yet there was something else about her, something that stirred feelings in him that he rarely experienced, let alone acknowledged.

She was somehow…exotic. A flame that drew moths.

And Tintin was intrigued. He'd never felt this way before, and was a bit…overwhelmed. He found himself angling so he could watch her, moving as she moved so she wasn't out of his sight for very long. He wasn't ogling her, or standing there slack jawed and bug-eyed, he was being discreet.

At least he thought he was being discreet.

He felt a small but not so gentle nudge in his ribs. "Go on lad, what are you waitin' for? An engraved invitation? Have some fun; night's not getting any longer." The Captain urged.

"And don't worry about keepin' your ol' sea-captain company, I'll be just fine." Continued the older man and Tintin turned to see his friend eyeing a table that sported several brands of whiskey, rum and other various assortments of liquor.

"Captain. You promised, remember? No more than one bottle for the entire night, and even that is too much." He sternly reminded the man.

"Aye, aye. But you didn't say I had to keep just to one kind of bottle now, did ya?"

Tintin sighed. He glanced over to where the girl stood, entertaining and being entertained by a gaggle of admirers. Perhaps he should just stay and keep his friend company, no telling what trouble the man would get into…

As if reading his mind, the older man stood straight and put a hand over his heart. "Tintin, lad, I hereby promise not to misbehave. I know you want to go talk to that pretty young thing, and you don't need this ol' reprobate standin' in your way. Now, off with you!"

As Tintin looked over at the young lady he hesitated.

"Unless," the other man said with a bit of a leer, "You want me take you over there and introduce you to her?"

"No! Er, no, that's quite alright Captain. I'll just go up there myself. You're quite right, nothing to be…um." He struggled with the right word – afraid, alarmed, anxious - though all of them sufficed, it wasn't the type of sentiment he was trying to express. "Uh…No reason to hesitate; in to the breach as they say." He finished chirpily, feeling foolish.

Taking action to words, he turned, squared his small frame and went off to battle.

...