same old routine // sarah

[Lucien Villette de Séraphin]

Most of the Chevalerie members made trips back home, once a month at the very least ... usually more. There was always business to attend to, errands to run, logistics to manage. This late spring week was no exception, and Lucien had intended to make the trip alone - it would only be a few days, and it was all routine - but shortly after having announced his absence in the music theory class he was teaching at the university, Sarah had come to bug him about it, trying to weasel herself into tagging along. Naturally he'd tried to decline her appeals, but she was tenacious, and eventually he caved.

It could not be that bad of an idea, he supposed. The company would be refreshing on an otherwise dull sojourn, and it would also be convenient to have a food source with him instead of leaving it to chance - he wasn't feeling very ambitious that week.

At any rate, on the morning of their departure, Guillame, Jean-Michel's new porter, was the one to drive them (Jean-Michel hardly bothered with such petty tasks anymore), and they arrived at Sarah's apartment before dawn had even broken. Both Lucien and Guillame helped with Sarah's luggage (poor Guillame was bewildered at how much one person could bring), and then everyone clambered back into the car to head out.

From there it was the usual logistics of trying to catch a flight: traffic, more traffic, checking in bags, checking in themselves, warding off the overzealous TSA with spiteful glowering ... yes, yes, this was all part of the routine. But finally they made it past all of that ... and it was still only seven in the morning.

Stifling a yawn, Lucien reaffirmed his grip on the handle of his carry-on suitcase, passing a disinterested eye over the throngs of airport goers.

"There still remains another hour until boarding," Lucien sighed as he fished his pocketwatch out of his suit jacket. "Perhaps some coffee? 'Tis not Araziel's, mais ..."

He trailed off consideringly, tilting his head and glancing to Sarah for her opinion, before drifting towards the nearest café.

[Sarah Jane Jackson]

Sarah kicked her blankets off of her body; a sigh of frustration passed her lips before she sat up. She was exhausted and she needed to sleep, but she knew she was far too excited to think about sleep. She turned her head lazily to the side, her head leaning lazily upon her shoulder, her eyes looking for the clock. It was almost too early to get ready but after sitting there for a few minutes she decided it might be fun to do her hair differently. She got up and walked to the bathroom of her flat and pulled out her wand. She pointed it at her hair for a second then paused, she had no idea what to do.

She placed the tip of her wand to her lip as she thought. Purple? Know it was not a good color on her at all. Blue? She had been there done that. After a debate with herself over color she finally decided on blond with bits of blue and black. She pointed her wand to her hair once again and mumbled the words she now knew well. Instantly, starting from the roots of her hair moving to the tips, her hair began to change color. After it had all finished changing she shook her head a little. She was satisfied. She turned her eyes to the clock once again and frowned.

All that work had only taken fifteen minutes? Sarah decided to go through her bags again to make sure she had all that she needed. She was after all going on a trip with her boy—no he wasn’t that. She honestly had no idea what he was. Let’s just say the man she was seeing, shall we? She needed to have all the perfect clothing, the perfect scent (though she knew that her natural smell was good enough), make up, and most importantly: sexy lingerie, and lots of it. The two going on the trip tended to go through many different sets of undergarments on a weekly basis. Sarah let out a chuckle as she thought about that. When that was done, it was finally time to get ready.

The now blond female made her way to the bathroom and quickly did her hair in messy braids, slapped on some make up, and she was good to go. She quickly pulled on some comfy yet attractive clothes and walked over to the kitchen. Coffee was needed now. The witch brewed it quickly with a flick of her wand and drank down the end product without a breath of pause. Finally the doorbell rang. Sarah smiled brightly as she bounded over to the door to open it.

She was ecstatic to see Lucien there. Shortly after their arrival her many bags were packed and she jumped into the car. An over tired Sarah on coffee was not always the best thing. While they did all the checking in and so on Sarah never let go of Lucien’s hand. She was partly afraid she would lose him, and partly afraid she would fall asleep standing up. Finally the man offered the best suggestion she had hear all day. ”Coffee , yes. Mmm. I could go for some of that.” She said rubbing her eyes. She let out a little cures as she realized she was wearing makeup. Why did this shit always happen to her? Lucien made his way to a café, and she followed without hesitation. She could always fix her makeup later.

[Lucien Villette de Séraphin]

"Just be certain not to ... what is this word ... 'crash' too violently," Lucien pointed out with a faint chuckle as Sarah acquiesced to his suggestion.

Luckily the coffee was retrieved without complication, and after that it was more waiting along with the hordes of other would-be passengers, most of them sitting around in a stupor, blinking dully at nothing, or, alternatively, with their eyes locked onto their various electronic devices.

Naturally such a habit was not part of Lucien's repertoire, though he didn't seem to be paying Sarah much mind either, his thoughts evidently elsewhere as his fingers twisted absently through his curls, rearranging them this way and that. It was the same once they had boarded and settled into their seats (business class; it was a way to avoid both the common riffraff of economy and the pretentious nouveau riche of first class), with very sparse chit chat from Lucien, which in itself faded into the same pensive silence.

The flight would be long, but even during periods of Sarah napping, Lucien did not sleep; he couldn't, not in public; he was much too paranoid for that. In between bouts of mental tangents, he would manage to drag himself back to consciousness; if Sarah was awake, he would ask her random things about her background, things he didn't yet know; he expressed surprise that she had not yet been to Paris, considering that she was born in England. But if she was asleep, he would occupy himself with mindlessly scribbling musical manuscripts over the inside of the manila folder out of which he had been reading, or the napkin that the flight attendant had handed him with his drink.

Once they had arrived at the Charles de Gaulle, they deplaned, collected their things, and met their driver out at the curb. The flight had been some seven-ish hours; with the time difference, it was around nine in the evening already. Lucien's fatigue was already evident by the dark circles beneath his eyes, but he didn't complain.

The hotel this time was along the Seine; they had a few that they usually stayed at during their business trips, but they avoided visiting the same place twice in a row so as to avoid further suspicion - as if what they did wasn't suspicious enough. The driver handed them off to the bellhop and from there, it wasn't long before they finally made it to their suite.

"Oh, finalement. I rather despise les avions," Lucien grumbled to himself, rubbing briefly at his eyes with the back of a hand before fishing a pocket schedule from his suit jacket.

"Bon, tomorrow ... I must meet with one of Devereux's clients, and then 'reacquire' some pieces from an auction house ... which leaves about half of the day free," Lucien mused, sinking into a seat at the edge of one of the chairs by a coffee table before looking up from the book. "Was there anything in particular that you wished to do whilst here, or did you simply wish to shadow me?"

He dissolved into a faint chuckle as he rose from the seat, drifting over to the window to observe the view of the ville at night.

[Sarah Jane Jackson]

Sarah was appreciative for the coffee she now had in her hand. She needed the caffeine in the coffee, she just wished that it was Azi’s coffee, he always knew the way she liked it without asking, and he knew when she needed more caffeine or less. For the hyperactive pink haired witch, it was usually the latter.

Things in the airport went by fairly smoothly and when they pair finally boarded the plane she was relieved that she would be able to sleep while in the air. Lucien asked her questions and when she had answered she returned with a question. She chuckled at his surprise, she had never really had any reason to go to Paris.

The trip from the airport to the hotel was a quiet one. Sarah could tell that her companion was beginning to tire, but he didn’t mention it and neither did she.

Finally, once they were in the suit, Sarah let out a chuckle at Lucien. ”Well, love, we can relax n—“ She began, but was cut off by the debriefing. A smile spread across the female’s lips as she watched him sit. She walked over slowly and sat down on the arm of the chair. Her finger’s easily went up to his hair and she twirled a strand around her finger.

“I have no idea what to do. So, I will just shadow you, I think.” She said with a grin. She was glad to spend more time with the man. When Luce stood up Sarah pulled her legs to her body and just watched him. He was such a special individual and she was glad she had the pleasure of being with him.

Things between the man and herself were bit more complicated. She knew he was married and the played no effect on her.

“Luce?” She asked, not really sure where she was going with the question. She just wanted to talk to the man. ”Tell me a story.” She said after a brief pause. She just needed to hear his voice. Even though they had been together the whole day she felt like she hadn’t really talked to him.

[Lucien Villette de Séraphin]

Lucien just chuckled again when Sarah shrugged off his question about plans. In a way, it had been a useless question; he knew with near certainty that she was just there for the sake of ... well, being there. He ought to have appreciated that, he supposed, even if on some level he instinctively passed it off as passing attachment; that was what he was used to in his various women, and therefore was generally what he came to expect.

"Suit yourself," he laughed quietly, his gaze following the progress of her fingertips through his curls, before he'd relocated to the window.

Before she had even asked her question, his mind was already drifting, as it usually did on any occasion, though this manner of drifting was of a different sort now that they were here in Paris. It happened every time he visited, whether for a day, or a month, or longer. A story ... how funny that she would ask, for his thoughts had already conjured up a hundred of them, wispy little strands of memory, some pleasant, most not. She could have named any year between his birth and now, and he could have probably taken her to the location about the city to explain what he had been doing at that time.

But this was what Lucien assumed a 'story' was. Maybe Sarah wasn't even looking for something that meaningful.

Sighing to himself, he lingered at the window a moment longer before turning around again to drift back to his former seat. Sinking into the chair, once again beside her, he passed her an amused half-smile, though there was a hint of melancholy laced within it despite his attempts to ignore it.

"I have many," was his initial reply, unintentionally cryptic. His tone was quiet, as if trying to summon one, or maybe he was trying to stall.

"But do you not have hunger? Or fatigue? It has been quite a long trip. Perhaps you might do with something to eat," he suggested thoughtfully, his nurturing - almost fussy - side surfacing at once as he looked up at Sarah, the faintest frown painted across his features.

Absentmindedly his fingertips stroked at her arm. "There is a lovely cafe on the next corner. And a wineshop as well. Perhaps after some sustenance, I can humor you with a story." He smiled again. "As long as ... you provide me one in return," he added conditionally.

[Sarah Jane Jackson]

Sarah watched the way Lucien looked out the window. She was unsure of the meaning behind his expression. Adoration? Longing? She just couldn’t place the look on his face. The pink haired witch pulled her hair off of her shoulders and piled it on top of her head with an elastic.

Finally with a sigh the man moved to sit back down. Sarah watched is swift movements in awe. She had been ‘seeing’ him for a while now and she knew she would never get use to the way he moved so smoothly.

She placed her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand, her body was angled towards the vampire. ”May I request one that has some special meaning to you?” The female asked. She knew he was stalling and she hoped her question would help him out a bit.

At his question Sarah’s stomach gave a betraying growl. She was starving, but she just wanted to spend time with Lucien talking. ”Food would be a good idea.” She said, giving in to her hunger. ”How are you doing? Hunger wise I mean.” She added. She felt like it had been a while since her vampire companion had eaten, er, drank anything.

Sarah stood up and took his hand in hers. ”Why don’t we go for a walk and eat wherever we end up?” She inquired pulling gently on his arm. ”And deal.” She added. Now she had the added pressures of trying to come up with a good story to share. She always shared everything with Luce, and she didn’t think she had anything else to share with him.

”Okay, love, allons-y.” She said tugging on his arm a bit harder. She hoped her French was good enough, she really was trying to pick up on the forging language so as to be able to understand Lucien better. He had a talent for slipping between English and French without thinking about it. So Sarah was trying to learn the language to cut back on translation time.

[Lucien Villette de Séraphin]

Special meaning ... most things had some sort of meaning, at least to the empathic Lucien, but he supposed that, while they were here, he could tell her something of his life here, something that could be reinforced with the location of its occurrence. Now it was only a matter of choosing a thread from that elaborate loom of memory; he did not wish to start the sojourn off on a melancholy note, but alas, if Sarah wanted to understand more of his and his company's background, he could not avoid these things.

"Oui, d'accord. Later. After supper," he acquiesced.

A slight smirk sneaked onto the vampire's expression at Sarah's stomach's audible growl. But he only answered her returned question with a raised brow; she knew by now that, when he wished to feed, he had a way of ... approaching the subject. It depended upon both their moods of course, as Lucien was attuned to others' as much as his, but typically it involved a sudden pounce, plenty of affection, and -

"Bien sûr," he chuckled at Sarah's bold French, letting her pull him to his feet. He found her attempts to learn the language rather adorable, though he supposed he ought not to be patronizing; his own English still carried a foreign lilt to it, and he cheated half the time by speaking in 'franglais' as Araziel called it.

He was never opposed to a walk around the city, and sometimes that was the best way to orient a new visitor. He paused to smooth out his clothing before turning to lead the way back out the door. At the door frame, he hesitated again, waiting for Sarah to gather anything she needed and catch up, at which he offered her his arm so that they could continue out, descending to the street level.

As they emerged onto the sidewalk, which was still quite busy despite the late hour, he chose a random direction so that they could begin their wandering. He knew some of the places on this street, and he pointed them out to her as they passed: a creamery, the square where a farmer's market was held on Sundays, the wineshop he had mentioned earlier.

"Oh, perhaps we should visit this bookshop when it is open," he mentioned in particular as they passed the boutique, now closed at this hour. "'Tis a secondhand store, but all sorts of rare things surface here. They often have a wonderful selection of old music."

The temperature had dropped significantly since their arrival, but Parisian weather was incredibly unpredictable, hence why, despite the clear skies of earlier, Lucien was toting an umbrella at his side.

The thought of showing Sarah around made him think of other places to visit, though.

"I have been to London on a few occasions, but rarely with a native. Perhaps another day we could visit there, and you can show me around as I am now," he thought aloud, smiling whimsically.

Their steps eventually brought them to a corner cafe, the sort that was open air. There were still a few people scattered about, mulling over their coffee.

"Would this do?" he queried, stopping to look over the menu posted outside.

[Sarah Jane Jackson]

Sarah was glad she had let Lucien talk her into eating. The food at the little café had been wonderful and now that she was fed it was Lucien’s turn, and that meant some fun for the pink haired female. Sarah nibbled her lip and laced her fingers with the vampires.

”Thank you for that.” She said with a smile. On impulse she grabbed his hand and took him down the nearest alley. Without taking a pause she pushed him against a wall and her lips found his easily. How had they been in Paris for so long and not shared one kiss?

Sarah’s hands worked on the buttons of his jacket while her tongue worked his mouth. After she finally had them undone – she knew how much he disliked her ripping them off – she pulled his shirt out from his pants and slipped her fingers to his waist.

Just as she was about to slide her hands into his pants she felt someone slide her wand out if it’s place on her leg. She knew it wasn’t Lucien because his hands were occupied elsewhere.

”What the fu—“ Sarah said and turned around to see who was there. Before she could finish her sentence a hand was shoved over her mouth. Sarah quickly bit down on the flesh and instantly tasted blood.

She pushed her attacker away and tried to grab her wand, but she was unsuccessful. ”What is going on?” She said, panic evident in her tone. She tried to turn around to look at Lucien but she was grabbed around the waist and pulled away from him.

[Lucien Villette de Séraphin]

"Cafes are a necessity of Parisian life," Lucien pointed out with a chuckle, smiling sidelong at Sarah once they had exited the cafe and were back on the street, heading back towards their hotel. Of course, Lucien knew several shortcuts through certain parts of the city, and so he steered them through a network of alleyways to cut back to the hotel.

But halfway down one of the side streets, Sarah became a tad distracted, and the sentiment was contagious. While Lucien had been waiting until after they arrived at the hotel, he supposed a bit of a preliminary taste couldn't hurt. As such, he all-too-willingly cooperated, pulling Sarah close, and already they were locked in a kiss, hands searching, skin already flushed -

But it was cut short rather suddenly when Sarah was pulled away. It all happened rather quickly, as in the next moment something - no, someone - had rammed into Lucien's side, knocking him to the ground.

He tumbled a few feet away, landing on his side, but his umbrella was still clutched in his grasp. The attacker was relentless, diving at Lucien again for another go, but Lucien had drawn an épée de coeur from the umbrella and already had it pointed towards the assailant, effectively impaling the creature as it leaped.

The thing shrieked, and Lucien threw it off, flicking the blood from the blade before staggering to his feet, looking around frantically for Sarah. He could smell the attackers, and it was a familiar scent; one of dark magics reminiscent of those two enemies the family despised the most.

That explained their appearance there, but the news immediately put Lucien on edge. The attack must have been coordinated. This was precisely what Lucien did not wish Sarah to be involved in, and unfortunately, now she was.

He didn't have much time to think more on it. There were more of the creatures. Some sort of feral vampire thing ... some machination of the Emeraudes'; whatever the case, Lucien knew the safest thing to do was to get inside. But the creatures were relentless, perhaps not even intelligent beyond what they needed to complete their assignments. Before Lucien could even take a step towards Sarah, another creature was on him, its razor-sharp claws just raking his side, rending flesh. Lucien returned it with a thrust of his sword, fending the creature off; it swiped again, but he parried and riposted it, the blade sinking into its belly.

Another down. Lucien was spared a moment to hurry back over to Sarah, who too had been swarmed by the monsters. Ignoring the pain in his side, he dragged one of the creatures away by its hair, slamming its face into the wall. There was no way to reason with them, that much he knew.

The last of the creatures, seeing that its comrades had collapsed around it, turned tail and ran. Lucien didn't bother to give chase.

Now what held his attention was the scent of blood; familiar blood. Hissing blasphemies to himself, Lucien dropped the sword and knelt by Sarah, his eyes narrowed. His hand hovered over her, not touching her, but seeming to be debating how best to inspect her. The scent of her blood was strong, but he couldn't risk inspecting her there; they needed to get back inside lest more of those creatures be searching for them.

"I need to move you, chère," he murmured quietly, gingerly edging an arm beneath her knees, the other one beneath her shoulders. It would probably hurt her to move her, but it had to be done.

"'Tis not far now," he went on, carefully scooping her up so as not to jar her wounds too much. He balanced her weight in his arms carefully so that she didn't need to exert any effort, and, throwing a glance over his shoulder, he quickly continued down the path, weaving through the streets back to the hotel.

Once there, he would head straight to their room, through the suite and to the bedroom, so that he could just-as-carefully lay her down. He looked nearly as disheveled as she, but his inattentiveness towards his appearance spoke volumes of his distress, even if little of it manifested in his expression.

"Where are you hurt?" he asked quietly, even while he left the bedside to disappear into the bathroom. Sarah would hear the water running in the sink as Lucien fetched a damp cloth to prepare for cleaning up any excess blood.

[Sarah Jane Jackson]

As she was being pulled away from Lucien, Sarah managed to grab her wand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Luce but she didn’t have the time to keep watching him. The creature was trying to pull her farther down the alley. She pointed her wand behind her and with a sharp blast of light the thing and it gave out a little shriek and collapsed. Unfortunately it took Sarah down with her, and she hit her head on the hard ground.

She was only vaguely aware of what was going on around her, she heard a few things shriek, and then it was all silent. Had she passed out? She wasn’t sure until Lucien came over and, after a moment spoke and picked her up. She looked at him but could hardly see him for the spots in her vision.

”W-What was that?” She barely managed to squeak out.

After a few minutes they arrived back at the room, Luce laid her down. When he asked where it hurt she tried to sit up and she pointed at her head.

”Luce, are you alright?” She asked sitting up faster. So fast her head spun and she slumped back into the bed. He had a gash along his side and she needed to take care of him.

She started to get up again and tried to go to the bathroom to get some cloths. ”What was that? Why did they attack us?” She asked.

The pink haired witch only made it a few steps before she nearly collapsed on the ground again. She must have hit her head harder than she thought. She managed to catch herself on the small table near the bathroom door.

”Are you okay?” She asked again. She knew she sounded lame, but she didn’t want to look weak in front of Lucien. She had begged him so hard to come. They weren’t even twenty-four hours in and she had already screwed it up.