milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Samantha comes bounding down from upstairs, still dressed in pyjamas, wearing reindeer ears and fuzzy slippers. She skids slightly when she hits the bottom of the stairs.

She runs to the Bar, orders a plate of Christmas cookies and a glass of milk and makes her way to a booth to enjoy said Christmas goodness.

Nevermind she needs to be ready to go to her mother's in a half hour.

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"Mademoiselle?"

Oh, look, it's a very familiar French fellow standing at the end of the booth. Or maybe it's just the lace that is recognizable.

"Madame. I'm married." Samantha replies, before looking up. "Oh. It's you. Hello."

"Oh, well my apologies then." He frowns. "Which is why I approached you anyway. I wished to apologize for my behavior a few days ago. It was atrocious."

"C'est vrai!" Sam says throwing her hands up, then shaking her head. "Sorry. Quoting movies from my French classes in high school is not cool. Anyway, it's fine. I didn't tell my husband...but I told Mel...but she's cool. I'll tell her we're coo."

Yes. She just said "coo." And nodded grandly.

Montparnasse blinks a few times. No, it is not necessary, but it is still reflexive.

"..."

"Well good. We're --coo. ...Alright." He scratches his head, a little puzzled, honestly.

Sam licks icing off her finger, laughing. "Sit. Sorry, I'm confusing I know. I meant we're alright. I'm not going to send Mel after you for blood or anything."

He nods then, still confused he'd have to admit, but he does sit.

He purses his lips and sits silently for a couple of seconds before finally asking, "Who's Mel." pensively.

"Security? Dark hair, a scythe?" Sam shrugs. "A good friend. I'm actually good friends with a lot of security. They all know my husband. Helped him out a lot."

"Oh, her, yes." He bites his lip and considers all of this. Probably not the best innocent, if she even is one. "I met her, in passing."

He's not offering further explanation.

Sam nods. "It's easy to do that here, meeting in passing. I couldn't meet her in passing though. Everyone told me I needed to meet her and when I did, she was keeping a huge secret from me. Finally someone told me why everyone got so quiet when Andrew and Mel were mentioned in the same sentence."

She rolls her eyes. "Like I care that much about one kiss." She bites on her lip. "Anyway, you don't care, I'm rambling, and yeah. I'm Samantha."

There is more blinking and he'd be looking to make an escape now, if not for that kiss comment.

"Right, no it no bother." He shrugs, as if to prove that he's unconcerned. "I am Montparnasse. It is a pleasure."

"Indeed. From France, huh?" Sam smiles. "I loved learning French. I was top of my class. I knew a song in French once. I can't remember it now though."

"Oui, from France. Paris actually." He smiles faintly. "You learned French then, in school you say? I- I never went to school, but picked up a little English and Latin in Prague." Of all places.

"When are you from?" Sam sits up, tying her hair up in a bun. "And Prague? Nice. Never been there. Never been anywhere but here, Jersey and New York."

"Oh, 1832 when I left, though that will change here in a couple of days." He grins. "Yeah, Prague was- Well, it was different. Twelfth century when I was there."

"Wow. A French Revolution kid, huh?" Sam grins. "Yeah, I'm sure things have changed since then.."

"Revolution indeed." He replies wryly, rolling his eyes. "Sometimes I'm glad to be away, and more glad to know that I will see what is to come of things. If I don't do anything stupid, that is."

Like make deals with the devil. Just to keep things in perspective.

"Well, doing stupid things is...stupid. Unless you have a valid cause. Like...I'd do something stupid if it meant I could keep the one thing that makes me happy." Sam shrugs.

He chuckles and nods agreement. "I suppose so. This is something along those lines, I guess. If it was in fact stupid anyway." Yeah, he's already got something in mind.

"Well...good luck." Sam offers. "With your stupid choices. May you choose the less of the stupid ones."

"Too late for that, perhaps, but we'll see."

"But hey, you went to school, so you probably make far less than I." He's being optimistic.

Sam nods. "Probably."

She's being truthful.

"Hey, can you say something in French for me, if I tell you what I want said?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course."

Sam thinks for a moment. "Okay. How do you say, 'a dream is a wish your heart makes?'" She shrugs. "It's a song...but my grandmother used to sing it in French, and I can't remember it."

"'Un rêve est un souhait du coeur' ou 'un rêve est un souhait vos marques de coeur.' "Though I am not certain whether either are what you had in mind, or fit with the song. I have never heard it."