No need to sulk - I have a magic beret

If Claire knew she was wearing the beret again, Elsie would have her ass handed to her.

She couldn't help it. It made her eyes pop, and it reminded her of the trip to France that had changed everything. She would hate to confirm rumors of her own superstitious belief, but she had to believe that some part of the beret was lucky. Good things happened to her when she wore it.

After all, Dimitri had gotten called into work before she had donned it. Wrapped up in one of his shirts, he'd only managed a kiss on her forehead before he dashed out, still fastening his cuff links. She was certain that, had she woken up earlier, gotten dressed and pulled out the beret, someone else would have been able to help get the gallery set up. And she would have been free to keep him trapped in bed, her hostage as he made her eggs and sausage, dragging her back to the bedroom every time she teased too much.

Ah, they got on well.

She supposed the best place to be abandoned was in the middle of Paris. Le was in the city for a new gallery opening, and so they were staying in his city house, which was absolutely perfect, but not quite entertaining enough for her. She was not going to attempt to cook herself breakfast - no way - so she stepped into a dress and matching accessories, before making sure her hair and face was exactly as she liked it, perfect. The beret was the finishing touch. She paused on the landing as though it were enough to summon her Frenchman back, but even its magic had limitations.

She walked in the crisp morning air, breathing in the opportunity the city provided. Sitting in a cafe alone was not horrible - women is magazines seemed to do it all the time. She was certainly fine-

"Elijah Krum?"

She was certain the back she had just seen slip out of the store in front of her belonged to Krum, a man she knew from being raised in the horrible traditions of maintaining good society. She stepped forward, setting her purse on the crook of her other arm.

Well-played, beret, well played.

"What are you doing here?" her voice was bright with excitement.

(OOC: A Krum baby did come, in the end!)

When he opened his eyes that morning, he found himself staring at a paint splattered ceiling and a candle chandelier, that was hanging slightly off-centre, wax clinging to the metal, now damn-near impossible to remove. He took in the first handful of wakeful breaths and a smile found its way to his face as he realised just where he was. The sounds of a city on the move began to filter in through the windows that were open, letting in the cool summer air that was coming off of the river, and that alone confirmed it, as if he could be in any doubt. He was home. Paris. Merlin. He’d actually done it. It hadn’t been a dream. He’d packed up his office, told his secretary he was going out and he’d not gone back.

There was movement beside him and Elijah looked down to see his daughter curled against his side, her blonde hair splayed out across his arm. He let his head fall back against the pillows as he questioned to himself where the boys where. With Stelladora, he remembered before his heart could go into panic-mode. She and Matthias were taking them to the seaside for a week. They were safe. The only part of his family unaccounted for were his eldest who were still missing. Elijah knew they were alive, wherever they were. Of that, he was absolutely certain. Which meant they were safe, because Thierry would never let anything happen to Fauve. And although that thought didn’t entirely settle his heart, it allowed him to sleep some.

Elijah lifted his hand and drew his fingers through Alice’s hair, letting his eyes fall down over her, his thoughts turning, not for the first time, to how it was possible for him and Mira to create something so good. She snuggled further into him and Elijah turned his head towards the windows, his spare arm reaching for his glasses that were on the bedside table. He righted them on the bridge of his nose and he contented himself with watching the clouds as the floated by the window. It didn’t take long for her to wake. Between his cloud-gazing and her finally opened her eyes, he managed to grab his wand and summon a sketchpad and a piece of charcoal. The light was perfect. When she woke, what he hadn’t finished didn’t matter to him as his mind was already swimming with what he would do to the image on canvas.

It was a bit of a trial getting washed and dressed that morning. Elijah realised with stunning clarity how used he was to having an extra pair of hands around. Even when he just had the one, chasing her through the rooms of the apartment was an unexpected trial. He’d prided himself on being a good father but once he caught up with her, dried her off from her shower and kept hold of her long enough to get her dressed, he realised just how out of touch with his children he was. The big kiss that was planted on his cheek went some way to reassuring him that he wasn’t doing such a bad job after all. And Alice, like her sister before her, always sat patiently to let him plait her hair.

Then, they were out in the midst of Paris, Alice on his hip, a satchel full of art supplies on the opposite shoulder. Elijah knew that, first and foremost, he needed paints. There was only one place to go, of course – so long as it was still open. He didn’t know why he even bothered doubting himself, in the end. Philippe’s was the sort of shop that would never close. An order was put in for some canvas with one of the assistants whom Elijah didn’t recognise and then the man himself appeared from upstairs, flinging himself down the stairs and wrapping the duo up in his arms. The paint, he declared, would be free for the artist he had missed so much. So, out they went again, with Alice declaring that she liked Philippe but that she’d also like some breakfast. And then, Elijah heard his name. His whole name too.

Spinning round, the Krum searched the crowd for the person he might have known and surprise lit up his features when he caught sight of none other than Elsie Norton striding towards them. He blinked, a smile brightening his features. It had been too long. A party here and there, if he remembered rightly – some other things in between. And how bizarre was that, to meet on a street in a completely different city to the one they usually inhabited.

“I could ask the same of you, love,” he chuckled, opening out one arm to give her a half-hug. “We’re just … hanging out for a little while, aren’t we, baby?” He bounced Alice a little and she nodded eagerly, smiling at her father. “Elsie this is my smallest. Alice this is Elsie.” He smiled at the both of them, feeling a little easier in himself. He would have thought talking to someone would have been a bit much. He’d managed his housekeeper well enough, though. But Elsie was real, almost. She appeared outside of the bubble that was Paris … and yet he was alright. He was okay. He attributed it entirely to Alice. And the fact that, of all people… Elsie was just a little ray of sunshine. In Elijah’s mind, at least, she couldn’t hurt a fly.

((Yay!))

Elsie could be oblivious but her experiences since leaving New York equipped her enough to know she couldn't necessarily expect a pleased reaction, especially from someone from the pureblood circuit. Half of them were thrilled to see her there because she was some new dangerous element, and their glittering eyes only seemed to appreciate the separate parts that made up the mystery. The others saw her as a perceived threat to the status quo, to the traditional way of doing things, and their eyes darkened with resentment.

Elijah provided a nice in between, however. He looked at her like a person. And that was a bit of a welcome change.

There was something perfectly pleasant about running into Elijah, something akin to sunshine on a day meant to be rainy. She grinned widely and stepped into his offered hug, squeezing his shoulder as she tried to offer as much warmth as she could. She laughed at his words, because she supposed it probably seemed awfully coincidental to run into her. Perhaps even more so. At least everyone had an inkling of his Parisian sensibilities.

He introduced her to the giggling ball of smiles on his hip and while Elsie had always claimed she was certainly not the type to have any interest in children, she had that quintessential adoration for babies found in a woman nearing the age where she was expected to begin producing them. So she leaned her head towards the little blonde and smiled. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Miss Alice!"

She straightened up and smirked at Elijah. "So where are you taking me to breakfast?"

At Elsie’s question, Elijah barked out a laugh. He shook his head in disbelief, amusement brightening his eyes at her gall. He pulled his lips back together but couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at them, threatening to break again. This, he remembered, was why he enjoyed the company of the dark-haired witch. He loved how forthright she was in this regard and it was in such a charming way that Elijah couldn’t help but feel compelled to take her to breakfast. Had she been anyone else, he probably would have made an excuse but Alice was hungry anyway and Elijah truly did want to.

“I have a bit of a favourite haunt,” he told her, readjusting his grip on his daughter. “If you’d indulge me, Miss Elsie.” He winked at her and gestured in the opposite direction that he’d been going in, the direction she’d come from. Elijah set Alice down on her feet and took hold of her hand. He smiled down at her and she grinned toothily back at him before striking out, keen to lead the way, even if her father would be subtly guiding her to make sure they ended up in the right place.

“What brings you to Paris, then?” Elijah turned to Elsie as they fell into step. “Just a holiday or business or something like that?” He wasn’t certain what he was going to say if she asked the same of him. He’d run away, if he were going to be horrendously brutal in his assessment of his actions. He sighed internally at the thought but kept his smile for her as they wound through the city back towards the river.

“Daddy, look!” Alice pulled at his hand, throwing out her arm. Elijah stopped and crouched down to her height, following her eye line to see a balloon wiggling through the sky. He grinned and scooped her up, cuddling her close to him as he promised her he’d get her a balloon. She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck, and they set off once more.

The café was tiny and mostly overlooked by tourists. The outdoor seating completely overtook that of the indoor and it was to one of those tables that Elijah took them, settling Alice in a chair under the shade of the parasol. He then stepped around the table and pulled a chair out for Elsie, tucking it in behind her. Once he was sure he was seated he stepped round and claimed his own, settling against the soft upholstery of the chair. He tipped his head back into the sunshine and smiled to himself before drawing his fingers through his hair.

“Alright, what do we fancy?” He asked, pulling out a menu and holding it across the table for Elsie to take.

“A dippy egg!” Alice exclaimed, bouncing in her chair. “Please, daddy!”

“Well, as you said please,” Elijah quipped, tapping his index finger against her nose, earning a bright giggle from her. “And for the other lady?” He asked, turning his bright gaze back to Elsie.

It had been a long time since someone had looked at her like that. Used to be that she could inspire that look out of her best friend, out of her brother. Lately, the former was so drawn into work that she hardly saw the blonde and Ben… well Ben had been weird lately. Not meeting her eye fully, an awkwardness to what used to be his easy charm. Elsie couldn’t lose her brother, not when her parents were so useless in a familial capacity. No, it was nice to be looked at and actually seen, appreciated.

Of course… Dimitri looked at her like that. Of course. Obviously.

She maintained her smile through his laugh, refusing to concede to its humor in case he didn’t take her request seriously. Her catlike curled grin remained until he admitted he knew of a place, and then the warmth behind it broke forward, stretching across her face with pleasant satisfaction. “Certainly!” she chirped, falling into step behind him, her bracelet bumping against her wrist bone as she reached up to brush her hair behind her ear.

Elijah asked her purpose and a bit of sunshine shone through her smile as she hummed, “Oh, just visiting.” Though a deeper look into the private smile might reveal how personal the visit was, someone like Claire might have taken note that Elsie, for the first time since she had returned from France, did not leap at the opportunity to detail her entire affair with Dimitri Moreau, start to finish, with particular attention to the way he looked at her on date number two, what he cooked on date number four, etcetera, etcetera. Claire might have been able to look into it and find some meaning. Elsie, however, was not nearly so interested in self analysis.

The little girl stopped their journey and Elsie watched with mild admiration. The whole child-rearing expectation had always been her least favorite imposed tradition upon herself, as she knew she was much too happy enjoying youthful revelries to be of any use as a mother. She had always assumed, she supposed, that all of the young parents in her world or arranged marriages and stiff collars would be ineffective and a little lackluster. It suited Elijah, more so than… well, more so than pretty much anything she knew of him. It was much more fitting to hear the name Daddy, then the harsh names given by jilted women, and much more satisfying than the title of Deputy Minister. Besides, it seemed to bring him more joy.

The café was not far beyond the escapee balloon, and she instantly enjoyed the aesthetic of it, tucked between two boutiques and almost magical in its ability to catch the eye and go unnoticed. She followed Elijah and slipped into the offered chair and her hand fluttered onto Elijah’s arm by means of thank you, before turning her gaze around at the other patrons. There was a tired looking man about her age, staring off as he twirled a spoon in his cup. Two schoolage girls who kept giggling as though they had defied orders to enjoy the café. A business woman was working hard to impress some point on her colleague, whilst an artistic looking couple spoke in fast-paced French about intellectual pursuits. Her favorite had to be the elderly woman, dressed to the T in what looked some of her best clothes, dressy for the times but certainly not tacky, a wide brimmed hat placed delicately atop a silver head, spindly hand clutching a mug as she took in the sights, rings on her fingers, pearls glittering about her neck. Elsie wanted to adopt the woman, immediately, as a grandmother and life coach, because sophistication like that was not something the world needed to lose to old age.

A menu entered her frame of vision and she looked up. “Thank you.” The menu opened up and Elsie’s eyes immediately travelled towards the pastry section. While a well-rounded breakfast combination, something like eggs benedict or an omelet with truffles, might have been her initial intention, her sweet tooth would never allow her to skip something like a pastry done well.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m going to order the scones, aren’t I?” she said aloud, her finger brushing over the item. “Mixed berry and jasmine tea scone?” She glanced up at Elijah. “I mean, it’s hardly my fault with something like that.” She laughed, but she was already closing the menu. It was decided and done.

Once the order was placed, Elsie found her elbows alighting on the table, fingers lacing together underneath her chin, her head tilting as she regarded the Krum boy-turned-man. “So,” she began, and any of the pureblood wives who might have drilled into their daughters that elbows on the table could never produce a pleasing image would have been sent back to the drawing board, “you’re just here for the sights? Or are you here on business, Deputy Minister?”