Only a Paper Moon [ Band of Brothers ] 3

[2] Masterpiece

[2]

MASTERPIECE

There she was. Auburn hair perfectly styled, dress smoothed down around her, and eyes that could make him feel a million miles away.

w/ AdamantiumDragonfly's Agent Themis

October 1940 | Paris, France

Marc looked at the pigeons, frowning as they pecked around at the seeds he'd brought for them. It shouldn't have bothered him, that in the middle of Nazi Occupation he had done poorly on an exam, but it did. The grey sky above him and chilly winds just made him feel worse. He hadn't seen Louise in days, though likely she was off doing some super-secret spy stuff.

The thought made him sit up straighter. Some days it worried him. She was more than capable of defending herself, Marc knew. Robert had sparred with her once. The racket in their flat had nearly caused their neighbors to get the police. It had ended with him on the wood. But she shouldn't have to do it alone.

He didn't know more of her mission than what Louise had told him herself; she was helping them get organized. Talk about vague. He knew the importance of secrecy. He and Adelaide worked closely with Genevieve, and she trusted Louise's insistence on keeping information to a minimum. Safer for them, she said.

But why didn't he get to make that decision for himself?

He tossed another pinch of seed to the ground. The grey pigeons reminded him of the grey sky, and his grey mood. He didn't know where Adelaide had gone off to after class; probably with Marie and Juliette. Robert was the last person to go to when in a bad mood. That was Marc's job, after all. Be the one to cheer them up. Be the one to offer encouragement. And now the stupid exam had ruined his day.

The icing on the cake to seeing Nazi uniforms everywhere he turned.

"Figured you were here."

Marc looked up and grinned. There she was. Auburn hair perfectly styled, dress smoothed down around her, and eyes that could make him feel a million miles away. Away from the Nazis, from the Occupation, from his stupid exam. "Hello, Louise. Fancy seeing you here." She offered him a smile but glanced at the pigeons. Marc just laughed. "They're birds. They're not going to eat you."

"Only because you have them trained," she responded. But with them all around his feet, she didn't budge. At the sound of thunder, they both looked up. She sighed. "I'm not sitting out here in the rain."

Marc let out a small laugh. But he just nodded and stood up. The pigeons protested with loud coos, startling but not quite flying off. He stood next to her, looking down at her from the few inches he had. With a smirk, he held out his hand.

She looked from him down to his hand. Without opening her own, she just looked back at him. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Well, it's called birdseed. Birds eat it," he told her.

Louise rolled her eyes but Marc could see the tiny smile trying to escape. With a small hum, she just looked at his hand again. "Right. I'll ask again. What am I suppose to do with this."

"Just don't eat it," he said.

She started smiling then, really grinning, and Marc felt like his chest was going to explode. He'd gotten her to smile. Really smile, not just fake it. Whether she fed the pigeons or not didn't matter anymore.

"Hm, is that so," she said.

When she took the birdseed, Marc felt his throat clench. Her hand was surprisingly warm as she scooped out what remained of the food. He watched her as she looked at the food, then the pigeons, and then back to the food. After a moment, she tossed it. The pigeons followed.

"Good form. You could be a professional pigeon feeder," Marc said.

As Louise turned back, another clap of thunder filled the air. Marc looked up. The rain started almost immediately, and he blinked back. Now he remembered why he'd gotten up in the first place. Well, other than the girl at his side. The same girl who pulled out her umbrella and opened it over her head.

"You don't have an umbrella?" she asked, her lips twisting into a smile.

Marc, already feeling like a bedraggled rat as the rain fell around him, just grimaced. "No. I didn't think about it."

"Of course you didn't."

"Got room under yours?"

Louise moved it a bit closer to the middle of the space between them. Wasting no time, Marc hurried to squish under it. As the chilly rain fell around them, he just looked at her. Only a little wet from the rain, still perfectly and unbelievably beautiful. She was like an art piece. A masterpiece. "Thanks."

"Why are you whispering?" she asked.

He hadn't meant to. He hadn't meant to lose his focus. But there she was, inches from his chest, hands near his own on the umbrella. He lost his breath, lost his mind. He forgot about the exam, the rainstorm, the Occupation.

Except he couldn't forget the Nazis. They were everywhere. But he couldn't look away. He kept his voice low, trying to keep it steady. "Well, there is a war going on."

"Really?" She didn't move. Her brown eyes seemed to search his face. "I didn't notice."

Marc couldn't breathe. She really was a masterpiece all her own. Strong, confident, with a face beautifully framed with hair the color of autumn, and eyes that made him melt. He leaned in a bit closer. She didn't move away. "Yeah, there are these people called Nazis—"

She didn't move away. She moved centimeters closer. "You don't say."

"That's why I'm whispering, Louise."

"Is that why?"

A masterpiece. That was the only word for Louise. He leaned in the last few centimeters and kissed her, breathing in her perfume and relishing the warmth of her body. In the cold, she made sense. In the rain, she made sense. She deepened the kiss, and when she drew back, he felt like he'd come up for air.

"Ida."

He looked at her. Saw her for the beautiful human she was, and nearly missed what she said. But then he looked at her again. "What?"

"Ida. It's Ida."

Marc grinned. Ida. One less secret. Or, one more secret, but shared between them. He tried to calm down. But his voice still came out as a whisper. "Hello, Ida. Fancy meeting you here."