Archibald considered Alex's question, and after an unseemly pause he replied. "I've an old Hasselblad at home that I swear by. That thing would take a bullet for me, I'm convinced. I doubt I'll ever see it again though. So whatever you like is fine."<br/><br/>Then the world jumped. Archie's stomach turned a somersault inside him, further mixing the liquor swilling around his system. He kept his dignity, though, with nothing more than a mild grimace. An expression which turned into an equally mild smile, laced somewhat with confusion, at the arrival of their newest companion.<br/><br/>"Ah... Did she just...." He looked to Alex for confirmation that, indeed, a woman had just spontaneously appeared in the parking lot. British manners got the better of him, and his smile grew to classic Archibald proportions. "Good morning, miss. I am Archie, at your service. Though what service I could provide to a woman capable of what you've just shown us is momentarily beyond me. Tell me, do you always travel in such a fashion?"<br/>