Archer had heard very quickly after Eddie announced he was resigning that this was indeed truth.  At first, he had thought it was a trifling piece of gossip – something to stir up the office, but nothing more.  At least until he saw Pratt leaving and no sign that he was joking, or just taking a personal day.  Archer couldn’t believe it – well, he could, really, but that did not satisfy him. 

Eddie was an auror.  They did not give up, and his resignation was just a slap in the face to the work they did.  Archer understood that it was frustrating that they hadn’t gotten anything done yet, and beyond that, it was touching home for a lot of them.  He might have had it the worst, admittedly, but that didn’t give him an excuse to bail on them.  Even if Rosier was an ass and kept things from happening, even if he didn’t want to take it seriously, but it should have strengthened Eddies’ resolve. 

Archer could hardly wait through the end of the day to deal with this.  He had been predisposed, working on connecting MacDuff with a number of places and things that had previously been considered only part of the terrorism case, but now things were starting to meld together, crossing paths and becoming decidedly murky.  It was not the time to lose one of their own, with so much going on.

But, Eddie had things going on – Archer tried to remind himself, and attempted to keep a clear head as he left work – explaining to Tamis that he had something to take care of, and would be back later.  He, of course, did not need to say where he was going, she could tell.

Archer sighed and apparated without consequence.  Only he and Tamis knew the location of the Pratt residence for the time being, and he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to visit Eddie and question his sanity.  Landing with a sharp crack in front of the door, Archer brought his fist up and rapped his knuckles on the wood.  Hopefully Eddie would answer. 

The kids were restless. They were driving Quincy up the wall. Much as though she loved her kids more than anything in the world, she couldn't wait to ship them off to her parents for a couple of days when they got out of the shack. It had occurred to the witch a couple of times (dark, dark times) that they might never actually make it out. MacDuff might never get caught, and Eddie might force them to live in the little hovel for the rest of their long, dreary days. Shaking those thoughts away was difficult, but she clinged onto the hope that one day she would be able to go shopping down Diagon Alley again, go for a drink at Signature and see her oldest son safely into the clutches of Salazar Slytherin (please Merlin).

Quincy was sitting at the kitchen table, idly swishing her wand to-and-fro and watching dishes dunk themselves in hot soapy water, a scrubbing brush attacking them vigorously, before being placed on the draining board ready for the eagerly dancing tea-towel. The young mother had one elbow resting on the table, her chin perched on the edge of her hand and a worn expression on her face. This was the highlight of her day. Long gone were the days of getting dressed up with Charlotte or Sam ready for a night out, or shopping with Tilly for clothes and music. Now, the most she could hope to look forward to was the baby sleeping through the night and her other three children not permanently maiming each other.

Quincy sighed, her wandwork becoming a little messy as she did so, forcing a bowl into the water a little more haphazardly than she had intended. The water made a loud 'sploosh' and the result was a large puddle on the floor. She paused momentarily as though collecting her thoughts, but as she went to reverse her puddle-making, there was a loud knock at the door.

Immediately, Quincy's instincts kicked in and she aimed her wand at the door. Eddie was upstairs playing with the kids before bed, and she hesitated looking from the door to the ceiling then back to the door. Should she call Eddie down? He was an auror afterall, and could defend himself much better than she. But she was a strong witch, and she didn't want to be petty. It was unusual, though - the only visitor that ever came was Eddie, and he was already here. Quincy sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling and making her way cautiously to the door, her wand held out in front of her.

She reached the inner door, the 'real door' in her opinion. A charm had been put on the shack, so that she would be able to hear if anyone knocked on the outside door. Quincy cast one last glance up the stairs before opening the front door and shuffling her way along the corridor that got more run-down, dirty and dismal as it got closer to the outside world. It was all a trick, just in case the security charms failed for whatever reason. The shack was - from the outside - exactly what it said on the tin; a run-down, cobweb-ridden, falling apart horrible little wooden shed. Anybody who knew anything about Quincy St.James would know that she would never consent to living in somewhere like that.

Quincy reached the wooden door at the other end of the corridor, and without hesitating she threw the latch off and opened the door, ready to cast a spell if she needed to. Her eyes widened as she realised who was there. "Archer!" Without even thinking about what she was doing, she moved outside and threw her arms around the big man. She and Archer had never been particularly close, but Quincy couldn't have been happier to see a familiar face that wasn't one of her children or her estranged ex-husband. "You have no idea how pleased I am to see you!" The sincerity in her voice was apparent as she squeezed her arms around him as far as she could. Nearly one month had passed, and she had not seen a single soul from the outside world.

The reception granted to Archer was not at all what he expected.  When the door opened – he hoped it was Eddie, he wouldn’t want to scare the ex-wife or kids, it certainly wasn’t Eddie – and she certainly wasn’t scared either.  His eyes bulged slightly as she practically launched herself at his much larger frame and squeezed.   Archer stood for a moment, awkward and thoughtful, before softly patting her back as a greeting – it was the best he could come up with. 

“Uh… nice to see you too, Quincy,” Archer murmured, semi-unsure of himself.  He did not know the woman well, except that she was from the St. James’ family, which was known for its sophistication, in a word.  This place was not sophisticated, by any means.  Archer did not live an overly posh lifestyle; in fact, he had been downright embarrassed to show his flat to Tamis, but this – this was much different.

The shack was not beautiful, but it was discreet, and would provide them the shelter and safety they needed until MacDuff was caught.  Archer hoped that would be soon, though could not hold his breath about it. 

“Let’s not linger outside though,” Archer quickly added, trying to as politely as possible push her back into the door.  He didn’t need anyone accidentally coming upon them, and then they’d have to find somewhere else to keep them – and finding this was already hard enough.  So, as soon as he was able to make it as least awkward as possible, Archer shut the door behind them, automatically restoring the wards on the temporary housing.

“Is Eddie here?” he asked quietly, “I forgot to give him something earlier and I need to speak with him.”  A semi-lie, but only partially… he did have to give him something  - a piece of his mind, really.  And hoped that they would go up into the actual living space (from whence he could hear the screaming of children and maybe even Eddie’s voice) – rather than stay in this hallway.