Shamesless Amanda is Shameless on Nov 3rd/4th specifically

"You speak of destiny as though it is fixed."
-- Phillip Pullman

~*~





The sound of saddle shoes down the hallway could be two different people, but one of them is usually as silent as a church mouse and the other with more confidence than grown in most lions. Which is the same as the way the girl in those shoes lays her hand on the doorknob of the door that isn't her door but happens to be right next to her door and opens it as though it were just as summarily hers.

"I am bored," is the declaration that comes nearly synonymously with the door being thrown open to let herself in. There is only the barest touch of public-patient-training in that she doesn't entirely rush the entranceway, peering in, a little hyperbolically on the toes of those shoes, even though it's long since she was doing it habitually as a child.

In case her quarry doesn't happen to be here, and she has to keep searching.

But he is -- back to her, in that ever favored chair, at his desk, all tall, solid shoulders and wavy golden hair -- and that changes it lightning fast to a smile. "What are you doing?"

A blur of white and feathers rustled it's way past between her feet and halfway across the room already, giving a soft high pitched little trumpet of absolute triumph, even as Allison was closing the door and leaning back on it. Her smile an overly pleased and mockingly impatient tilt as the door clicked under her fingers and shoulders, and she waited to be answered.