La Petite Fleur

Visitor

"No worries about that, Capsicle. I'm out of here. Tomorrow, after the girl leaves, pack up and head to where you were dropped off."

Steve nodded and opened the door, leading the way to the living room where the aroma of fresh coffee wafted in from the kitchen. As he stepped into the kitchen, Antoinette handed him a steaming mug and sipped her own. Stark saluted him sarcastically before leaving the apartment and disappearing down the street.

"What was zat about?" she asked him, hopping onto the counter and swinging her feet.

"Nothing important," he lied, leaning against the counter beside her.

She didn't believe him, and he could tell, but explaining would ruin everything. Not to mention, telling her would crumble the fragile beginnings of a friendship between them. There was a minuscule chance that if he told her the truth, she might believe him and understand the problem. A higher chance said that she slapped him before storming out.

He wouldn't take that chance.

Instead, he left the kitchen in silence and opened the shades on the living room windows. "Is there something you are keeping from me?" she asked him, following him out.

He shook his head, guilty about having to lie to her, but it was for the better. "Nothing that needs to be known."

"Even if it is trivial, I want to know," she insisted.

He turned around to face her, surprised by how close she was. "It- it really isn't important. I promise I'll tell you if it is." He took a step away from her a little too quickly. Great, now he'd made a promise he couldn't keep on top of all the lies he'd been telling her. If the guilt didn't kill him, Antoinette would if she found out.

He heaved another sigh and sat on the couch. He expected her to perch on the coffee table or sit on the other end of the couch or lean on a wall, but if he knew one thing about her- she wasn't what he expected. And again, against all expectations, she did something to surprise him.

Antoinette took a step that brought her toe to toe with him and grabbed both of his large, scarred hands in her smaller, long-fingered ones. She pulled him to his feet and brought him to the window. "You don't 'ave plans for today, do you?" she asked.

He shook his head, wondering where she was going with this. A small voice inside his head whispered for her to release his hands, but another voice contradicted and begged her to stay. He squelched the second voice and began encouraging the first.

"Then I know what we will do," she announced.

Steve was completely confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I will show you around Paris," she said, bubbling over with excitement. She'd released his hands but remained close enough to cause him mild discomfort.

"That sounds great," he agreed, genuinely glad to get away and do something before she left.

"D'accord. To see everything before dark, we should leave soon." It was already nearing seven and the sun was reflecting its early morning light on windows and puddles. A pale pink glow seemed to cover everything from the shingled roofs to the flower boxes to the people going about their errands.

It took them half an hour to get ready before they left the apartment. Antoinette led him down street after street until he was unfamiliar with the scenery. As they passed a café, he lost sight of her in a mob of tourists and bulky backpacks. For a second, he panicked, thinking the assassins might have taken her in the time he couldn't see.

"Antoinette?" he called out over the heads of the others in the group. Before she could reply, he caught sight of her bouncing blonde ponytail and pushed through the crowd to walk beside her again.