[Home Plot] Paris Holds the Key, Pt. III
May. 9th, 2013 11:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
manwithoutfearI wake up slowly, a luxury I haven't been afforded in days. Above the smell of exhaust and dust lies the more tantalizing one of fresh baked bread and laundered cotton sheets and the surprisingly nice floral of the hotel shampoo used the night before. The scraping of brooms over the cobblestones outside nudges open my unseeing eyes, and I sit up in the bed, careful to not jostle Ellen.
It's been a whirlwind of two days, but we're finally in Paris. Natasha and I had had this planned out for months before I ever showed up on Tabula Rasa, this strange little failsafe in case, for whatever reason, I decided not to stand trial and prove my innocence. Maybe I'll go back, eventually, but I need to get my bearings. I need to sit back and think -- plan. If Ellen is stuck with me here for good, there are steps we'll need to take, provisions we'll need to consider, and I can't do any of that if I'm stuck in a trial for months on end. In the meantime, I can splurge on a hotel and better clothes than the ones hastily grabbed for a transatlantic flight, and treat Ellen to something nicer than front row seats to my latest battle with the Hand.
I reach a hand to smooth back her hair and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in and finding comfort. My back protests at the movement, but I push ahead, uncaring. I don't have use for my injuries anymore. We're safe.
"G'morning."
It's been a whirlwind of two days, but we're finally in Paris. Natasha and I had had this planned out for months before I ever showed up on Tabula Rasa, this strange little failsafe in case, for whatever reason, I decided not to stand trial and prove my innocence. Maybe I'll go back, eventually, but I need to get my bearings. I need to sit back and think -- plan. If Ellen is stuck with me here for good, there are steps we'll need to take, provisions we'll need to consider, and I can't do any of that if I'm stuck in a trial for months on end. In the meantime, I can splurge on a hotel and better clothes than the ones hastily grabbed for a transatlantic flight, and treat Ellen to something nicer than front row seats to my latest battle with the Hand.
I reach a hand to smooth back her hair and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in and finding comfort. My back protests at the movement, but I push ahead, uncaring. I don't have use for my injuries anymore. We're safe.
"G'morning."