Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

meat on the grill behind the long curved counter. There wasn’t even an empty stool, so Simon was pleased they’d managed to get a booth. At least here, they had a modicum of privacy.
    “We won’t be having tea at the Ritz any time soon,”
    Elizabeth said. “Better get used to it.”
    Simon wiped the tabletop in front of him with his napkin and set it aside. “That much is clear.”
    “So, how’d you sleep?”
    “Well enough, thank you,” he said uncomfortably. But she smiled back innocently, and he felt his tensions ease a little. “Did I snore?”
    Elizabeth grinned. “Nope.”
    “You did,” he said.
    “I do not snore.”
    “Like a locomotive,” he teased, thoroughly enjoying her look of embarrassment.
    “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
    “The truth is often ugly,” he said, trying not to smile.
    She blushed. Beautifully. “Did I really snore?”
    “It was more of a gurgling sound really.”
    “Oh, really? Well, better a gurgler than a bed-hog.”
    “I beg your pardon.”
    “You practically pushed me off the side.”
    “I did? I’m sorry. I...” Who knows what he’d done in his sleep. If it was anything like what he dreamt of...
    “I was joking. Mostly. You did bogart the middle a little, but it is a small bed and well, by size rights you should have two thirds anyway. It’s only fair.”
    Simon was about to argue the point when the waitress arrived with the coffee.
    Elizabeth took a sip and let out a contented sigh. “Oh, I needed that. So, after the library, what’s next on the hit parade?”
    Simon tried the coffee. It was too strong and too bitter, but he forced it down. “That depends on how long we have to stay here. I had considered trying to contact my grandfather.”
    She seemed surprised at that.
    “He was living in London at this time, I believe. Although, aside from the difficulty of tracking him down, I’m not sure we should. There’s no guarantee he knows anything about the watch at this point in time. We have no idea when it came into his possession, and if I were to tell him something about the future, the consequences could be disastrous.”
    He took another sip of coffee. It didn’t taste any better than the first. And his beard was beginning to itch. “We have to do everything we can to ensure the integrity of the timeline.”
    “I’ve been thinking about that. Your grandfather seemed to get pretty involved in the times he visited. Brunch with the death eaters and all.”
    “No doubt he embellished his adventures for my benefit.” Although at this point, the line between fact and fiction seemed blurred beyond recognition.
    “Could be. But then again, maybe not,” she said, her brow furrowing in thought. “The Heisenberg Principle says that we change what we study by the very act of studying it. Maybe he was telling the truth.”
    “Perhaps.” Regardless, he thought, the less they were involved in the unknown here the easier it would be to keep an eye on her. There were far too many factors as it was, in a city and a time he was unfamiliar with. Adding in more could only spell disaster. She was far too open and accepting, but she wasn’t a fool. She had a good head on her shoulders, and he decided to appeal to her logic. “But, you must admit, reason dictates, the less we interfere here the better.”
    Elizabeth nodded grudgingly. “Well, we’re going to have to do a little interfering. If the eclipse is more than a day or two away, and judging from our luck, my money’s on months, we’re going to have to find a way to earn money. Even at these prices twenty dollars won’t last much more than a week. We’re going to have to get jobs.”
    She was right, of course. How did she manage such calm, even enthusiasm in the face of this gaping maw of uncertainty? Didn’t the prospect of spending months, perhaps a lifetime here unsettle her in the least? Simon sighed and forced his mind back to the issue at hand. Money had to be a priority. It was a rather daunting prospect. He had never wanted for money in his life and he sincerely doubted there was a great call here for professors of the occult. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple.”
    “Two specials,” the waitress said, putting down plates laden with eggs, hash browns, bacon and toast. “Anything else?”
    “Know where we might find some jobs?” Elizabeth asked. “We’re new in town and really don’t have any idea where to start.”
    The waitress raked her eyes over