(Untitled)

[bp_npc]

Setting: la France
Characters: Adélaïde, Éloise, Noel, Open to Otto?
Summary: Because gossip gets around faster than you think.

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[bp_npc]

Éloise had slid into the mother-role quite easily. Ever since she had brought Noel home it was like a switch had been flipped. Her life wasn't her own now, not only and the little girl in her arms meant everything to her.

And Otto, of course.

She stolled with Noel in a small carriage, grinning as she headed to the cafe, in the hopes of a latte and a chair to settle in and feed and increasingly-testy Noel. "Shh, shh sweetheart, you'll be fed in a moment," she murmured as she purchased her own drink and moved to find a table on the street, already unbuttoning her blouse.

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Adèle looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, smirking lightly at the sight of just the person she was in search of. And her daughter.

"Éloise," she called, moving her sunglasses to perch on top of her head. "Have a seat," she offered, willing to ignore any unsavoury aspects the baby might bring with it.

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Éloise smiled as she heard the voice, "Adèle?" She asked, pleased to see her old friend. She buttoned up her top button, shifting Noel to her shoulder as she carried over her latte first, then pushed the carriage closer, settling in, feeling Noel start to tug on her blouse. "I hope you don't mind... me feeding her? She's whining something awful."

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Adèle waved her hand in a 'go on' gesture, watching the baby. Her features still seemed too small to notice any resemblances, which was probably for the better.

"No, it is fine. Go ahead." With that in mind, she stubbed out her half smoked cigarette, waving the smoke away from the two of them, and took a deep drink of her coffee.

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Élly immediately juggled the child, unfastening her buttons, freeing her breast for her hungry daughter, "What are you doing here?" She smiled, pleased.

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She averted her eyes, not out of any puritanical streak still left in her, but to give Élly her privacy more than anything.

"I came looking for you." Adèle folded her catalogue magazine and shoved it back into her briefcase, examining the chipped nail polish on a finger momentarily.

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Éloise smiled, "Lovely," she said softly, "I've missed you," she said honestly - not a hint of malice. She was lonely.

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Adélaïde nodded, worrying her lip lightly. "As I have you." And it was true. The drawbacks of the world she was working in, Muggle fashion and finance, was that you never knew the true way of anything. She was working for her father, and the number of people who saw a promotion through her made her physically ill at times, not to mention contemptuous.

"How have you been, since... everything," she waved her hands, trying to make an all encompassing gesture.

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Élly shrugged, "I've been ok," she whispered, "This is Noel," she smiled, "And she's lovely."

"and then there's Otto..."

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"And he is lovely?" she asked dryly, smiling as she arched an eyebrow. Still, Élly looked... different. Certainly less tragic, if one could look that way.

"You look... well."

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"He's more than lovely," she smiled gently. "He takes good care of me, and the little one."

"My well being is thanks to him."

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Adélaïde nodded, unable not to smirk a little at the look on her face. "Congratulations, then. And I think she might be done," she said, nodding to Noel.

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Éloise nodded, "Almost," she whispered, slowly detaching her child from her breast, wiping Noel's mouth and her own breast before burping her child a little. "How have you been?"

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"I have been fine," Adélaïde replied, finishing her coffee dregs. "Working, unlike I said I would, and my sister Mireille is living with me now." Hadn't taken her long to realise she truly didn't want to live with their mother. While Adélaïde had either been born with or developed the type of iron will that could take her mother's shrew-like tongue in stride, nine-year-old Mireille was just too soft-hearted and sweet to survive it.

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Éloise nodded, "Must be alot. She's very young."

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Adélaïde shrugged, running her fingers through her hair. "She is not a difficult child, and the hard truth is that money makes everything easier." And that, at least, was one of the nice perks of her job. That, and her father didn't mind Mireille sitting in at work, even though he knew that, very probably, she was not his daughter by blood.

"And you speak of my sister being a lot, when you take care of a newborn?"