The right corner of Alistair's mouth turned slightly upward, as he smiled internally at the thought of the women riding a motorcycle. "It's not often you find a woman who rides. Most of the fairer sex prefers the stability of a car. Go and grab your bike and meet me back here." he said, nodding slightly. Alistair melted into the bushes as Faylyn disappeared to get her motorcycle.<span style="font-style: italic">I'm still getting a very odd feeling from her. Kind of like an aura of some sort. I think I'll play the nice guy and see where it leads...</span>he plotted. A short while later, she returned wearing a leather jacket and some ripped blue jeans, along with a similar looking bike to Alistair's. "Wanna race?" she asked, smirking. "I'll race you to Big Ben." They pushed their bikes to the beginning of the driveway, just to be sure that no one from the party would be suspicious. They bothed climbed on their bikes and started their engines. "Alright on the cou..." Alistair started to say, but was cut off as Faylyn sped off. Alistair hurried to catch up, thinking,<span style="font-style: italic">So this is how she wants to ride...</span>He quickly caught up, staying neck and neck with her as they sped down the quiet street. "You forget! My bike is government issue!" Alistair shouted as he engaged the steam boost. He shot past Faylyn, flying into London, narrowly avoiding a pedestrian still awake and wandering the streets. He slowed down and Faylyn caught up, with an incredulous look upon her face. "His Majesty gives you Werewolf Hunters bikes like THAT?!" she asked, flabbergasted. Alistair laughed, "Well we hunt werewolves right? We have to be fast." She nodded in agreement is they slowed and stopped across the street from the clocktower. They pulled into a nearby parking garage secured their bikes. They crossed the street and Faylyn pulled her jacket tighter, shivering. Alistair opened a secret entrance at the base of the tower, and held it open as Faylyn walked in first.<br/><br/>Alistair closed the door slowly, staring at it as it clicked into place. He stayed quiet, tapping his boots together nonchalantly, pretending to knock off dirt.<span style="font-style: italic">Good. I remembered to bring my silver dagger in my boot before I left.</span>He thought, feeling the familiar figure of the hilt. He turned towards Faylyn, her eyebrow raised in question. He smiled briefly at her before making his way towards the stairs, â€œCome on thenâ€ he said as he bounded up the stairs, hearing Faylynâ€™s steps fall into place behind his. He was grateful she was in shape as they reached the top, slightly out of breath as the tower was large. He pushed his dark hair from his forehead, watching as Faylyn approached the face of the clock, looking out at the night scene. â€œI like to come here to be alone. Up at the top, behind the clockâ€™s face.â€ He explained, â€œThe world is peaceful here; except for the slight noise of the gears, which I drown out in thought. Most nights I like to stay here and watch the cityâ€ He contemplated the previous memories of time spent here as he watch Faylyn; she looked around as he spoke, her voice silent, though listening. Her white hair looked piercing against the lights of the clock. He watched as she climbed onto the ledge of the clockâ€™s face; she sat down, leaning her body against the clock and holding her legs as she looked out at London. Alistair sat down across from her, the curve of the ledge feeling odd on his back. He got a small glance from Faylyn and he was continuously stunned by her silence. â€œI figured we could come here for some peace and quiet after that party. Maybe talkâ€ He suggested. He was looking at her as she slowly turned her head, â€œYes, an isolated place so no one can hear your scream as I kill youâ€ she said, a serious tone in her voice before she smiled wide at him, the joke now obvious. Though he felt unnerved and he gave her a nervous laugh and smile.<br/><br/><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&amp;sa=X&amp;rlz=1C1CHFA_enUS484US484&amp;biw=1281&amp;bih=647&amp;tbm=isch&amp;prmd=imvnsu&amp;tbnid=v2pZoFAbP7CIYM:&amp;imgrefurl=http://blog.credoreference.com/2011/08/inside-big-ben/&amp;docid=Tu4J8hRJLch_nM&amp;imgurl=http://blog.credoreference.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/137375.jpg&amp;w=395&amp;h=600&amp;ei=A1rrT9avCYSg8QSd3_HVBQ&amp;zoom=1&amp;iact=rc&amp;dur=353&amp;sig=101254914017781853603&amp;page=3&amp;tbnh=145&amp;tbnw=96&amp;start=41&amp;ndsp=24&amp;ved=1t:429,r:19,s:41,i:269&amp;tx=54&amp;ty=104">Inside the clocktower</a>