[Paris] You can't make yourself stop dreaming [Erika]

He closed his lips around the tip of the straw, slowly taking the stretched and thinned plastic in between his back teeth, chewing methodically. A nervous tick for some, a release of stress for others, Èdouard found himself chewing out of mere habit and busy-keeping. The wooden chair squeaked beneath him, and he took a slow slip from his glass of chilled Butterbeer, something that wasn't exactly normal or usual. He came to this cafe in the early afternoon for this exact treat, enjoyed with half of a ham sandwich with mustard and romaine lettuce. They were the only witches and wizards who didn't mind pouring a room-temperature bottle of Butterbeer over a glass full of ice, and the only ones who didn't give him strange looks. So he came back every day, and always left a galleon in the tip jar. They were always quite kind.

He'd gotten his hands on a muggle newspaper from off of the Metro, and though it was stained with the water from beneath someone's boot, wrinkled to the front page, it was plenty dry now and he was eager to finger through it. He took another long sip from the glass and got his hands on the sandwich, paired with a handful of fried turnip chips, a French wizard's alternative to potato crisps. Half charred and half golden, he loved the smoky taste of them and had since he was a child when his father brought him to this Paris cafe for the first time. Nowadays, he frequented it for lunch, and since his father had retired and moved to Greece with his mother, he felt a duty to hold up his father's tradition. When Adrien, his father, was in town, they went her more often than was probably necessary, and as he took a bite of his ham sandwich, he thought the same thing. He wished his father could be sitting beside him, bugging him to put the paper down. Èdouard would have to visit them soon.

He didn't look up from his paper when a woman walked remarkably close to him, and only met her eyes when she sat down across from him. He looked up at her from over his glasses, over the top of his paper, a blank stare and a hint of confusion in her eyes. She introduced herself, in a fake Italian accent one might add, as Arabella, and told him that she liked his wrist watch. She insisted that she must know where he'd gotten it, so that she could buy the same one for her brother. He didn't recognize her immediately, but he was pretty certain that she was the woman that was new on the French Ministry's radar. It was too bad that she didn't realize that he was an Auror.

Her gig was accents, pretending to be exotic or foreign, so that an unsuspecting man would lead her to a place where she would rob them and bite a chunk out of of their faces. Not all men agreed to lead her somewhere, but it seemed like the ones who agreed to take her to the place she was looking to go didn't always have the best of intentions themselves. He would be able to brush her off easily with a bit of brave persistence, but before she left he would certainly get a picture of her. Surely one of her victims would provide a positive ID, and then from there, they'd figure out just who she was and make the proper arrest.

"Mademoiselle," He cooed, smiling up at her while she turned to leave. "Would you mind if I get a picture of you? Before you go? I think you're quite beautiful."

She looked at him, a strange sort of smug smirk on her face. She surely thought that he was being weird, that he'd look at her photograph late at night, and so when she blew him a kiss, he raised his camera up to his eye, and snapped the shot with a wizarding camera that he was required to carry in his pocket, in case a crime scene needed to be documented or for a reason just like this. She continued making her way out the door, no doubt to go find another victim, and taking a single bite of his sandwich, he hurried out the door.

Bloody Paris!

Erika was lost. Totally and utterly lost. The French capital was a labyrinth. Not like one of the fun ones like the maze at Hampton Court Palace that you got lost in with friends, no, this one was infuriating. Under her left arm, the tall girl held a slim blue folder and in her left hand she had a map. One of the tourist ones that didn't really give any sort of beneficial advice. She heaved a heavy sigh.

She was probably late. That day, she was looking at apartments and stupidly, she'd arranged to see them all on the one day using the old adage; how hard can it be? Hilarious.

She'd already seen two. The first was a terrible one bedroom apartment with even worse plumbing and the second was one on top of what she suspected was a brothel. Parisian living was far too expensive. She's been stationed here for three months and Erika thought it might be cheaper and easier if she just stayed here for that time. She'd been to the French capital once before with Lulu but they'd just done the sights. This Paris was strange. Full of small cobbled and winding streets that weren't even marked on this crappy little map. Urgh.

Erika needed to get to Montmartre where her next viewing was. It sounded promising. Two bedrooms, natural light, a fully functioning kitchen, French doors and a balcony. She'd always wanted a balcony, somewhere where she could eat dinner and drink in the vibrant city atmosphere. Maybe grow some tomatoes. Turning, she realised with a sinking feeling that she was nowhere near the artist's quarter.

It was a nice enough day. The continent had always been warmer than back home. Erika had, for once, tried to dress smartly. Smart always impressed people. She wore a powder blue, form fitting and tailored blazer, the button fastening undone and her favourite jeans with heels. Her long blonde hair was tied back and up into a slick ponytail, her lips a deep scarlet. She looked good. Someone had better rent her an apartment that was bigger than a rabbit hutch or she'd go bonkers.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, her bright blue eyes flicked down to her wristwatch. Forty minutes. Could she run across Paris in these heels in that amount of time? Chewing the inside of her lip, she turned to walk away and accidentally ploughed into a short, plump man that smelt faintly of mushrooms.

As she spun, she'd knocked the man's coffee clean out of his hands, the brown liquid pulling a graceful arc as the china shattered to the cobbles outside of a quaint café. "Oh I am so sorry!" Erika squeaked, her eyes wide and apologetic as she reached out her hands to the man to steady him. Erika towered over him. In fact, he looked like a murderous dwarf.

Rather than laughing it off, the short balding man got right up in her face, forcing Erika to take a panicked half-step backwards. He was yelling at her loudly and quickly. Her French wasn't amazing but she managed to pick up the occasional word. He'd called her stupid, oblivious and, strangely enough, English. The tall blonde's eyes widened considerably, feeling rather hard done by and rightly offended.

"Oi!" She yelled back at the small man, taking a step forward and towards him, their height difference laughable. She'd apologised to this poisoned pygmy so what was his issue? And why was she having a fully blown argument with a Frenchman for? The man was still yelling at her and he even went as far as to poke her with a chubby forefinger. "Ow!" Erika yelled, swatting him with her laminated map fiercely. Why wasn't he leaving her alone? It quickly descended into a slapping match with flailing arms. "Vous êtes grossier!" Erika squealed, ignoring a few people who were passing and shooting her curious glances.

Stepping out into the fresh November air wasn't going to be as crisp and calming as Èdouard had hoped.Fighting, right before him, were a woman and a... very small man? The woman was certainly almost twice his size, and for a moment, the magical part of Èd thought that perhaps the man was half goblin. For a moment, he stared with his mouth agape like the rest of the people walking by. But when he looked at the girl better, he realized that her face was very familiar. He could never forget the girl in pictures in the trunk under his bed.

Rushing over to the pair, he stepped in between the two and promptly picked Erika Trickett up by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. He knew she'd probably kick and scream, punch him a time or two, but he had to save her from this little man, who was yelling at him in French as he took her away. Giving the man the "okay" symbol as he walked away, Èdouard laughed, mumbling to himself in French. She might've not caught a glimpse of his face at all, and probably thought that Èd was some French attacker of a greater degree. Èd himself was just glad that she hadn't chosen a dress for today's outfit. If he wasn't mistaken, her shirt read "Happy". He laughed at himself when he realized that her day was going much less than happily.

Setting her down on an adjacent street, he checked her, holding her by the shoulders to see if he was heart. "You shouldn't have fought him," He said calmly, looking her over for scratches or bruises. She looked alright from what he could see. He only knew minor fixups for things to be used on the job, but she didn't look like she would need them. Straightening up with a smug look on his face, he couldn't help but smile knowing that he was who he was, and she was her. He wondered if she would recognize him immediately.

As he stood there waiting for her retaliation or affection, he remembered what it was that had caused them to lose touch. He couldn't remember exactly why, but he did know that it was his fault. He felt guiltily about his stubbornness, about picking Aimee over her, about choosing his life in Paris over their life together in letters. He missed her, and as he looked down at her now, he felt that sad longing in his chest. He missed her badly, and though he'd only met her in person once, his heart was swelling with excitement that he should see her again.

What the Hell was going on? And why was no one helping her? Was Paris as unfriendly as London? London was a far cry from her gorgeous, cheerful, friendly Cornwall so much so that sometimes, she debated on giving up and moving back to her lovely seaside town. Erika had been here less than an hour and she already hated it. Everyone smoked. People were drinking wine at breakfast time. Everything smelt like garlic and everyone was small. Honestly. She wasn't a giant but she felt like she'd taken a damned stroll through Lilliput.

The short man was still attacking her. He wasn't hurting her that much but it was clear he was irate. Was his coffee filled with gold leaf or something? Had he behaved himself, she would have offered to buy him another one to replace it but no, he was absolutely mental. "Ouch!" Erika whined, hopping from one foot to another ungainly, trying to fend off his fingers. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen.

"What the fu --"

Before she knew it, a strong pair of arms had got her around the waist and she was lifted bodily off her feet, her bony hips hitting the stranger's shoulders heavily. Erika let out a loud scream that sent pigeons that were chomping on a discarded baguette scattering into the air. "What are you doing?!" Erika screeched, forgetting the man probably didn't speak English. "Let me go!" She yelled, kicking her long denim clad legs as she tried to wriggle wildly. It didn't matter if she landed on the dirty, uneven cobble stones. Better that than ending up dead.

Panic set in and her blood ran cold. Frantically, she smacked the stranger's back with her folder and her map, her fingers pinching hard enough to hopefully have him drop her. "Stop it!" She whined, still trying to wriggle away like a freshly caught salmon. Salmon. Funny. She'd probably end up on an open fire, too.

She wanted to cry. She was being kidnapped. She'd been assaulted and now she was being kidnapped. Why? This city was horrible and she wanted to go home. She was lost, she didn't know where she was or who this man was and all she could see were damp cobble stones and all the blood was rushing to her head and she felt sick. Her stomach turned over and dropped. She didn't want to die! She had so many things she wanted to do first!

Once righted, all the blood came rushing down and once her feet found the floor, she staggered a little, her heel sliding down into the groove between the stones as a sharp pain shot up her leg. Damn ankle. Erika let out a hiss of pain before tossing her head back haughtily, her usually pale cheeks flushed with red as she angrily yanked on the hem of her blazer to adjust her appearance.

"Excuse me?" Erika said incredulously, her voice sounding high and strained to his downright inappropriate statement. "He touched me!" She exclaimed with wide eyes. "It was self defence!" She hissed, stomping her foot and instantly wishing she hadn't as the pain shot up her shin. "And what about you?" She screeched, rounding on her would-be attacker. "What gives you the right to think you could just swan up and abduct a woman! Is that really how you think you'd land yourself a date? Because listen up, pal, you are sorely mistaken and I --"

Full of anger and confusion and adrenaline, Erika finally raised her head to look at her abductor when she froze, her map halfway to his face as she was about to smack him. Her crystalline eyes were wide, slim eyebrows furrowed in confusion before recognition dawned on her.

"Eddie?" Erika asked, disbelief clearly written all over her pretty face. He looked like him but surely it wasn't. He was so…big! Tall. Broad. Had he been working out or something? The map she was holding fell to the floor with a soft thud! as she squinted at him. Then he smiled. This man had that dimple on his cheek and she found herself smiling back. Her nerves were still jangling both from the sort of fight and the fear of being carried off. In a weird sort of way, he'd kind of rescued her. Weird.

Hopping over and using her good foot, Erika threw her arms tightly around Èdouard's neck and squeezed. She honestly didn't think she'd ever see him again and to bump into him in such an unexpected (and surreal) way was just lovely. He hadn't really changed. He'd just gotten older.

Still a firecracker, just as she had always been. He missed that part of her, the part that would do exactly this if someone pissed her off. There was so much passion and feeling in that blonde head of hers, and it was one of his favorite parts of her. He laughed as she scolded and screamed and he genuinely couldn't help himself. He just wanted to hug he anger away, but he was sure she wouldn't be very receptive to that either. He wouldn't want her to think that he was some creepy stranger coming to try and sweep her off of her feet, consent or not.

However, he hadn't even noticed her hurt foot, though he wanted to point out that her shoes were the poorest of choices for age-old Parisian streets. She was sure to hurt herself anyway.

Suddenly, as her tirade of insults came to a close, he watched as she swung up to hit him in the face with the silly map she was carrying around. He recoiled slightly, but when she stopped swinging, he burst into full-body laughter. She was going to hit him, and now wide eyed and in awe, she finally realized exactly who she was. The smug grin came back without much of a warning, and soon, she was wrapping her arms around his neck. Success.

"How are you, my dear?" He said, wrapping his arms just as tightly around her waist. When they had met the first time, they were awkward and nervous around each other, but now as adults, more comfortable in their skin, they could show affection to the fullest degree without care. He brought a hand up and stroked her hair affectionately, trying to soothe her. He couldn't help but continue to laugh. This was surely something out of a dream, and hopefully he wouldn't wake up too soon.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, pulling away from their embrace, keeping a hand on her arm to make sure she wouldn't fall into one of the cracks. She was holding a folder, which was strange for someone sight seeing, and she wondered why Erika wouldn't have Owled to say that she was coming into the city. Surely she forgot, or perhaps she didn't know that he still lived her. Perhaps she thought that he had moved outside to some rural town to raise children with Aimee. Certainly not.

Èdouard grinned down at her, unable to keep the stupidest of looks from his face. She was nearly exactly as he remembered her, except for her style, her height, her makeup, her... physique. She had certainly done her share of growing up, and though she had never been unattractive to him, age had treated her well. Goodness, she must be... 23 by now? What a good age. He missed 23 himself. Though 26 was treating him well. Three days before her birthday, he would be 27, and closer to thirty he would be. It was a truly frightening thought.

"Are you sightseeing?" He asked, putting his hand up to run a hand through his long hair, thinking about a haircut and a million other things. Maybe he could get her over to his apartment for dinner, or if she had another agenda, maybe tomorrow night. He would try his hardest to see her again. She had no choice.

Why was he laughing? Was this funny? Was dragging a young woman kicking and screaming across the street somewhat amusing? Pleasing? Erika felt her ire rising to the point of exploding. This must be normal Parisian behaviour. Sod looking for an apartment to rent, apparating every single day seemed much more appealing. If there was a rubbish bin nearby, she would have dumped all of her things into it and stormed off on her wonky ankle.

"Why are you laughing?!" Erika exclaimed with wide eyes, throwing her slender arms in the air out of exasperation, the pages of her little file rippling in the breeze. She didn't get it. She didn't understand. Was a possible criminal conviction hilariously funny? Where were all of the police men? She needed assistance as soon as possible before this weirdo loped off, cackling like a demented Cheshire Cat.

Her heart was still beating but the adrenaline subsided somewhat, causing her to think a little more clearly. The sheer horror she'd felt shifted towards confusion before being catapulted towards hilarity. She could see why he was laughing. The entire thing was just plain daft.

As Èdouard hugged her back, she squeezed him a little tighter. It was childish response that she'd never been able to really shake off. When she was scared or surprised, she grabbed the nearest person to her and squeezed like a boa constrictor. For a few seconds, she honestly thought she was going to die. Maybe end up on the Muggle news or something in one of those awful, tragic stories. She still hadn't let him go.

"Good," she responded brightly, playfully swatting him with her rolled up map she'd made into a makeshift rapier. "You nearly scared me half to death, you wally," she grinned, eyes wide and sparkling. "Really, what on Earth were you thinking?" She said swiftly. "A simple hello would have sufficed. There was no need to give me a fireman's carry," she complained, dropping her hands to squeeze her faintly sore hips where the bones had collided with his clavicle.

Regardless of how they came to be, it was damned good to see him again. Erika offered Eddie a slow smile as he stroked her hair, tilting her head a little to the left, absently thinking that Parisian air suited him. Unlike her, Èdouard seemed to fit in with Paris seamlessly. Like he was supposed to be here. Erika wasn't a city girl, never had been. She liked hedgerows and crashing surf, not rude dwarves and pushy waiters. "I like your glasses," she said with a grin, reaching up to gently tap one of the arms.

"Oh, you know," the tall blonde said noncommittally as she flipped a hand through the air quickly. "Hoping I'd be kidnapped by a tall, dark stranger," she joked, thankful for the hand he had on her arm to keep her upright. She shifted a little, resting her sore ankle back onto the ground and winced a little. The pain was uncomfortable but thankfully not unbearable. That was something at the very least.

"What?" Erika asked with a laugh, taking a half step backwards and her hands flying straight to her hair. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, flushing pink again. Their last correspondence was over two years ago now and it hadn't ended well. He'd told of his engagement and instead of being supportive, she'd congratulated him in a terse letter but the sentiment was trite. Wow. He must be married by now. Fancy that.

Sightseeing? "Ha, no. A chance would be a fine thing," she said with a gentle sigh. Paris sightseeing was very much a romantic couple's weekend plans and she was very much single. "I've got apartment viewings to attend," she offered, gesturing to her folder that held the people who were showing her around contact details, addresses and other little things. "For short term rent," Erika replied with a smile. "The first two were just atrocious," she offered with a deep frown that creased her pretty facial features. "And this map is just downright unhelpful," she mused, unfurling it and disappointed to see that some of the ink had rubbed off and now some of the street names were unreadable. Typical. Today was going from bad to worse. She looked over Ed's shoulder, half expecting that irate man to come barreling after them both again.

"Thank you," she said quickly. "For taking care of...whatever that was back there. Were you on your lunch break?" Erika asked, taking another step backwards and looking guilty. He was meant to having something to eat, not to save her from the attack of the four foot crazy man. "You should get back to that," she said quickly, slipping her hands into her back pockets of her jeans. Over her ex-pen pal's shoulder she saw the other Frenchman pointing in their direction as her eyes widened considerably. "Uh oh," she said softly. "We have to go. Now."

Though Èd often spoke English, more often than most Parisians as a matter of fact, he would always be envious of the perfect, clear accent of the English. As it was, he was slightly mesmorized by the words coming out of Erika's mouth, and he couldn't help but stare on accident. When he caught himself, he was fairly certain that she had caught him as well. But he avoided saying anything and instead diverted his eyes, choosing to listen carefully without running the risk of staring at her. He found himself laughing again.

This time, she called him out. "I'm laughing because..." He searched for the right words, smiling over at her. "This is just a funny situation, I guess." It was true. Had he known that he needed to save Erika Trickett from a screaming midget, he might've worn worse shoes.

He wished that he had known that he was going to see Erika today. He would've cleared his schedule for her, and he would've taken off work, made plans to take her around the city, taken her to dinner. The thoughts that were swirling around in his head amazed even him. He would have literally dropped everything to make sure she had a beautiful day in Paris, even if she was staying for a while. The idea was intimidating, even if it came so naturally. They were very good, very old friends after all. He shouldn't have to make excuses for any of that, right?

Her whapping with her map brought him back to a clear reality, and he laughed at her again, stepping back away from her assault. "I was trying to save you!" He said, his voice dripping with playful amusement. He slapped the map away with his hand, and used his other hand to push his glasses up his nose. They were a fairly new addition, considering that his eyesight seemed to be worse when he was paying attention to it. He started off using the simple charm in the morning, but had eventually made his way to a muggle eye doctor instead. However, he was somewhat embarrassed by them. He rather liked the way they looked, but he got a lot of flack from some of his co-workers for it. Personally, it was easier, and besides, he fit in better with the muggles this way, right?

"Thank you," He said bashfully, running a hand through his hair. Though he loved dishing out compliments, he didn't always have the best time accepting them on his own behalf. "You look..." He searched for the word, peeking over at her with a smile. "Very nice yourself." Oh goodness, did that sound creepy? Did it sound stupid? He decided not to overthink it too much.

And now she was asking him why he was looking at her like that. Maybe it was the smile, or his unrelenting stare. She just looked... as much the same as she did different. It was a strange thing to behold, someone who had aged so well, someone he hadn't seen or spoken to in quite some time. "Nothing," He said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He was sure that she thought he was creepy by now, absolutely certain.

He nodded in understanding, finding the courage to look back over at her. "Apartments, huh? Does that mean you're going to be around more often?" He smiled sheepishly over at her, hoping that she had forgotten about his staring by now. Maybe he could offer to explain himself over some duck confit and wine. He nodded to her, thinking about his lunch. He hadn't even touched it, and now he had to consider eventually getting back to work so that woman could be brought to justice. He thought she could wait a while longer.

Looking over his shoulder casually, he saw the small frenchman coming back towards them, and behind him came another much larger man, a man who was probably twice the size of Èd and with twice the muscle mass. Without thinking, he grabbed Erika's hand, and turned to the men, beginning to speak to them in rapid french, his voice full of reason. It was responded with some jeers by the little man, and an unintelligible grunt from the larger one, and instead of talking it out, Èdouard quickly changed his mind.

"Let's go," He said, taking steps in the opposite direction and only thinking of running. Without a second thought he hunched forward to encourage Erika to hop on his back so he could carry her. He hoped she would comply. "Get on," He said, his voice still full of laughter even though they were being chased. If it came down to it, Èdouard could easily take care of the pair, but he didn't want it to come down to that today.

Erika found herself just smiling back at him. It was a very bizarre situation to be in. It was very unexpected. A few years ago, she'd resigned to the fact that she'd never see him again and now here he was, rescuing her from irate midgets. Èdouard  had that kind of face that stood out in a crowd and she found herself sighing gently. Partly because he was very good looking and just a teeny bit of regret that he was married to someone else. He'd be a lovely boyfriend.

She flashed him a grin. "You're not wrong there," she said conversationally as he said it was a peculiar situation. It was. Erika didn't think Ed would still be living in the busy, dirty city. If anything, she thought he might have moved to leafy Versaille or even the wealthy suburb of Boulogne-Billancourt to raise some kids. A small part of her would still like to think that he would have wanted to share something as huge has him having his first child. "It's great to see you, though."

"Calm down!" She whined, flailing at him before she joined in with his tinkling laughter. The downright ridiculous had always seemed to find her and today was no different, it seemed. Whoops. "You're a sucker for a damsel in distress," the tall blonde said fondly, reaching out to gently stroke the collar of his shirt. It wasn't meant to be flirtatious, she was just a very touchy-feely person. If she wasn't holding someone's hand or had her arm slipped through the crook of someone's elbow, she was touching; hair, clothes, limbs, anything.

"Very smart," Erika was quick to say with an ever ready smile as she bounced on the balls of her feet. They did, they suited him. He still looked like the eighteen year old she'd met years ago but more…grown up? Mature. Maybe that was the wrong word to use. Professional, almost. "I like them," she said again with a nod of her head sagely. She'd always liked guys with glasses. Bookish folk. It just seemed more appealing to her when they were rough behind closed doors, not that Èdouard  was anything less than a perfect gentleman.

She didn't blush at his compliment but she did grin and bend into a low, sweeping bow. "Lucky I didn't wear a dress, hey?" She chuckled, referring to the not completely unpleasant grapple he had her in a few moments prior. She didn't get many genuine compliments. Erika spent a lot of time in Africa so she usually wore shorts and tee shirts and the men there weren't exactly complimentary. One time, a man offered her three camels for her hand in marriage. She'd been a bit affronted by it, she always thought she'd be worth at least five.

He was obviously uncomfortable about something so she chose to ignore it, instead, she nodded. "For a few weeks at least," Erika said brightly. She didn't like to make promises. She didn't stay long…well, anywhere. "It's so hard finding a nice place," she lamented, her slender shoulders shrugging. "I'm supposed to view one more today but if it's anything like the other two I saw," she paused, pulling a face and wrinkling her nose to grimace before shaking her head. "It might just be less hassle if I go back home. It's a bloody minefield. If you know anyone who wants to rent a place, I'd be grateful for some contact details." What better way to ask around Paris than a person who lived here?

Uh-oh.

Erika's bright blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as their vertically challenged friend returned with what seemed to be a hench man. As Èdouard  took her hand, she stepped closer as she let out a squeak of panic. She instinctively hid behind the Frenchman, much the same as a toddler would when faced with a stranger. The curse breaker childishly peeked around Ed's arm, squeezing the hand he was holding for support.

"What did you say?" She whispered, placing her free hand on his hip to keep herself upright. The men were approaching and her stomach turned as she felt cold hard dread wash over her. "Merde," she grumbled. There was only one way out of this; fight or run and honestly? She didn't want to do either. Ever since she got here, she wanted to go home.

"Go?" Erika asked, startled as she turned as Ed moved, looking over her shoulder at the two men. "Go where? Oh dear, I'm so sorry," she blabbered, clapping her hands over her eyes and letting out a low groan of despair. Get on? Oh, cool. This must be a joke but seeing him hunker down made her laugh. Hard and loud. "Are you insane?" She asked with wide eyes but really, she didn't have any other choice and suddenly, she regretted that hamburger she had for breakfast. Yeah, breakfast. She was all out of cereal. Why was she getting herself into this?

Needing no further urging, she shifted her bag and placed her hands securely on Èdouard's shoulders and used them to hoist herself up. This entire thing was ridiculous but deliciously exciting. Poor lovely Ed. Delicately, she locked her legs around his waist, leaning forward to press her chest to his back and loop her arms loosely around his neck. "Ed," she said breathlessly as she looked over her shoulder. "I'm pretty certain one of them is wielding a baguette at me as a makeshift weapon. I think we're in trouble."

He had to find a way to stop smiling and laughing. It was imperative. She was going to think he was absolutely mad or that there was something very wrong in his big fat head. Luckily, she seemed to like to laugh as well, and though it had been so many years since he had seen her, he remembered that smile and that laugh.

Alternatively, he found a pinch of pain in his heart. Pain caused by the existence of his muggle fiancee, Aimee. He missed Erika so much that it almost hurt him now to see her here, see her so pretty and doing so well. He wished for a fleeting moment that he had waited around for Erika, wait and see where they found themselves in a few years after doing so much growing up. He wish he didn't jump into things with Aimee, he wished that things could be different. But now he was too late.

But who was he to think that Erika might even feel the same way about him at this moment in time. What if she wasn't thinking the same thing? Maybe he was always just a far away friend to her. Maybe she had a boyfriend. The possibilities were endless. Maybe this was meant to be, or maybe it wasn't. He shook the thoughts from his head and came back down to Earth, back to smiling at the pretty blonde in front of him. Man was she pretty.

But now he was blushing. A sucker for a damsel in distress. He liked to think that he wasn't always looking for some girl with some big issue before her, to sweep off of her feet. In response, he laughed again, shaking his head and looking away from her, trying to just compose himself. She was getting to him, that was without a doubt.

He nodded, listening to her talk about her apartments. Only a few weeks. He could do with a few weeks. He could take her out to lunch and dinner and show her the best places around. He would insist, and he hoped that she would comply. It would be a beautiful thing to sit down to lunch with her, all grown up, glasses of wine, endless smiles. He used to long for the day that he would get to see her all the time, but had somehow gotten lost along the way.

But as soon as the little man had decided to return, she hid behind him, and he was glad of it. "I told them you were just a silly foreigner, that you were lost, and that they should have mercy on you." He chuckled slightly. "They didn't like it."

As she climbed onto his back, he hoisted her up, and began jogging towards the direction of his house, which was just around the corner. "Don't worry," He called over his shoulder. "I'm not afraid of a baguette." He laughed loudly, and hoping they had gone, ran down the street adjacent to his own.

A few more steps and they were at the front door to his house. He fished through his pockets quickly, looking off in the direction of the two men walking towards them. Wand. Notepad. Keys. He needed his keys.

Taking the front door key between his teeth, he turned it around in his fingers, slightly breathless, and unlocked the door. He squeezed the pair of them through the door and closed it behind them, bolting the lock and charming it quickly, taking his wand from his pocket to do so. If they tried to break it down, it would be hard as stone, but he figured that they weren't quite that serious about killing a poor English girl. He took a deep breath, and crouched to set Erika down in his small hallway. "I think we should be okay now," He said breathlessly, a smile finding it's way to his lips once again.

This entire thing was just plain ridiculous. It really was.

She'd innocently been looking for somewhere to inhabit for a little while and then she bumped into her long lost penpal who was now effectively asking if he could carry her through Paris. If she took a step back from this situation, she may have thought it was a daft dream. But no. This was real life.

"Èdouard !" Erika exclaimed, loudly than she would have liked, her crystalline blue eyes wide as saucers. "Why did you do that?!" She yelled, smacking his forearm with the back of her hand rudely. "I am not a silly foreigner!" She screeched, feeling well and truly hard done by as she stared at him. Her initial fear had swiftly turned into red, hot anger. Her breath came in ragged little puffs as her chest rose and fell thinly. Deep down she knew he was just trying to diffuse the situation but making fun of her was just downright uncalled for. Rude.

She let out a squeak of surprise as Ed hauled her up, causing Erika to cling to him. As a child, she loved to ride around on her father's shoulders but now, she was a grown woman and it was entirely possible that her friend might drop her. She really regretted all that pizza she ate last night.

"Maybe you should be," she whispered, chewing her lower lip nervously. "Crazy French Dwarf may have a knife or anything and if I was going to die, I'd sort of like it to be at home, surrounded by loved ones." Not that she didn't love Èdouard , of course did but it wasn't the same thing. She blabbered when she was scared.

That being said, she quite enjoyed her whirlwind tour of central Paris. It was sort of like being on the back of a Muggle motorcycle. She had no idea where she was going but Èdouard  seemed to know this place like the back of his hand. Thankfully. It was probably a good thing that she'd dropped her map. She wondered where they were going but when they stopped at an apartment building, she finally got up to speed. Oh. He must live here.

"Need help?" came the soft, amused voice as he fumbled for his keys. Erika tilted her head, her eyes pausing on his hands. Anastasia was a lucky girl to have them running over her and in her hair. Was it Anastasia? Was this his wife's name? Amelia? Abigail? She frowned. She was still a bit more about the fact that she hadn't received an invitation to their wedding. She would have liked to go. She would have liked to meet his family and his friends and share in the most important day of his life. Maybe she wasn't that important. She wondered where they'd gone on their honeymoon.

The movements his wand made caused her to blink. She was effectively locked in a small hallway with a tall, dark and handsome Frenchman. Their could have been worse ways to spend an afternoon. She eyed the door curiously. It was probably safer if she apparated home from inside here, just in case. He was a smart guy.

"Thank goodness," Erika offered with a relieved sigh, her pale hands sliding down the centre of Èdouard 's back as he set her down. "Thank you, noble steed," she offered with a grin as she leant in and placed a soft kiss on his left cheek. Politely, the tall blonde slipped off her heels and placed them neatly near the front door. She shrugged off her blazer and bag and hung them up carefully before she looked around. Erika had always been a great house guest.

"Wow," she whispered as she looked around. Her long legs walked forwards, her bare feet soft on the hardwood floors, the nails of which were painted a bright shade of Tiffany blue that clashed with her outfit. Her best friend Lulu would be positively apoplectic about that fact. She reached out and ran her fingers over the wall, her pretty face bright and shining as she stepped further in without invitation.

One bedroom or two? Must be one. This was a lovely part of Paris and there was no way in Hell anyone would be able to afford a two bedroom apartment. "This is gorgeous," she called back to Ed, flashing him a smile over shoulder as her bright sweater slipped lower to reveal a flash of a collarbone. His place was bright and airy with splashes of red and she was in love. The kitchen was small but functional, enough for anyone to use. The floors were shiny, the ceilings were high. Beautiful.

The window caught her eye and she made a beeline for it. It was a warm day and her fingers reached out to touch the latch that opened out onto the Parisian view that sprawled for miles. She let out a gentle sigh, her slender shoulders slumping as she smiled. Èdouard's home was lovely. The dining table was lovely. The walls were lovely. The red sofa was lovely. She felt like she was home already.

"What I wouldn't give to eat breakfast here every morning. What a lovely way to start the day. And end it, too. The sunsets must be out of this world." Erika admitted wistfully, stroking the wrought iron railing carefully and slowly. "I bet you don't get bored of that view," she said with a chuckle. "I'm so jealous."

[I went off this apartment? I think it was the one you picked out. If not, feel free to ignore it xD]

It seemed like all Èd could do was laugh at this situation, and laugh he did. He laughed at all her interjections and exclamations, but one of them made him pipe up. "Hey, I'm not a steed," He said, laughter in his voice, pointing a finger. "Next time I'll leave you behind." He was joking obviously, but it was a funny image in his head.

He ran a hand through his hair and shook off his jacket, keeping an eye on her as she took her shoes off. Normally Èd just left his shoes on in the apartment, but he wasn't going to stop her. It was very rare that he tracked mud in, and it wasn't very hard to clean this small space. It was a nice apartment, he would give her that. He watched as she moved around, and smiled as she took it in. The look on her face was reminiscent of a muggle child in Disneyland Paris. One would think she just stepped foot into a palace.

"It's alright," He said, seriously downplaying the appearance of his apartment to her. He liked it for the most part, and it did have nice views. He was at the top of Paris, by Montmartre, and it was a priceless thing to be able to look out on the city, see the Eiffel tower from his breakfast table. The perks of being an auror were great in many ways. It was a dangerous job, he could die any day, so the benefits must be plentiful. This apartment was one of his favorite benefits.

He laughed at her praise of the apartment, feeling strangely sore about her comment. In a weird way, one that he didn't expect, he wished that she could eat breakfast here every morning. He liked this amount of time that he spent with, and though he didn't want to, he remembered that he still had to get back to work. The only problem was that he wanted her to stay, and he didn't want her to think that he was a jerk or that he was throwing her out.

"Hey, I'm sorry," He began, looking away from her out of shame. "But I have to get back to work. You're very welcome to stay, though!" Looking back over at her, he smiled, hoping that she might. It would be lovely to come home from work to her here, he had to admit. He continued quickly, wanting to make up for his abandonment. "But can I take you out to dinner some time this week? I'd love to show you around and catch up."

"It's lovely," Erika replied kindly with another smile that made her cheeks dimple cutely. There was no need to be self deprecating. Èdouard was a smart, handsome man who had the world at his feet so surely he must have spend a small fortune to land a home as lovely as this. He'd decorated it nicely, modestly with splashes of red and she eyed the sofa curiously. She wanted to know if it was as squishy as it looked.

The tall blonde was in the living room before she heard him speak. Ah. He was on his lunch break. He should have said. "Oh," she quipped brightly, not at all upset by him wanting to leave her. She laughed, her head tilting to the left a little.

"Nah," she said in a friendly tone. "I shouldn't be left unsupervised," she admitted. It was true. She had a right knack of messing everything up. Plus, she'd feel weird without Èdouard here. She didn't know the area or his neighbours and if she went for a walk, she might not be able to find her way back. Uh-oh. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally leave a wrong impression on the people living near him.

Dinner? The invitation caught her off guard. It was a simple invitation. She'd never had dinner with Ed before. Or lunch. The last time she'd seen him was when she was sixteen years old but now, she was old enough to purchase alcohol. How grown up would it be to share conversation over glasses of red wine? Erika grinned, wide and bright as she nodded in agreement. "Yes please," she concluded quickly. If she had plans with Lulu, she was sure her best friend would understand.

"Oh, hang on." With that, she jogged back through the Frenchman's apartment and back into the hallway where she quickly stepped back into her shoes and shrugged on her blazer, not wanting to make him any more late than he already was. Hastily, she tugged out the slip of paper with her last apartment's address on it before flipping it over. Pale fingers rummaged in her bag for a pen, only to extract an eye liner pencil. She shrugged.

Placing the cap in her mouth, she gave it a yank before using the make up tool as a writing implement and swiftly jotting down her address in London. It actually worked out quite well that she was here. Her final apartment viewing was in half an hour and was a ten minute walk from here. She hesitated before scribbling her name on top of the address, just in case he forgot who it was for.

"Here you go," Erika said brightly, handing him the slip of paper with another smile. "You can owl me and let me know all the details and I'll be there," the treasure hunter said as she flipped her hair and shouldered her bag, finding herself weirdly lingering by his front door and unwilling to leave.

The idea of Èdouard showing her around was incredibly exciting to her and she couldn't wait. If he suggested a day, she'd suggest a Friday when Paris really came alive. With one hand on the door handle, she turned to offer him another smile. She really wanted to kiss his cheek. Would a handshake be better? Were they as good friends as she thought they were? She decided on neither.

"I'll see you soon?" she asked, her statement sounding more like a hopeful question before she closed the door behind her and stepped out onto the cool street before she took a deep breath. Dinner! In Paris! With a real life Frenchman! Oh Lulu would lose her mind. Snorting to herself, she took out her map and took a left, turning to follow the street to her final apartment viewing. She hoped she'd get it.