(Untitled)

[balletrat]

*Meg is sitting on a stool, her back against the bar, watching the rest of the room; there's a half-empty cup of coffee in her hands.

She looks . . . on edge.*

Comments

[e_delmar]

Well, he doesn't mean to, that's for sure, but when he goes to get a drink from the bar, can't quite help it when his arm knocks into hers, spilling a bit of each of their drinks.

"Sorry, there, Miss Meg."

[balletrat]

Oh - ne t'inquietes pas, *Meg says, with an easy smile for Ennis.*

Dieu only knows I've done my share of knocking into people around here -

[e_delmar]

Ennis sort of squints his eyes as he stumbles over her friends, but he nods and clears his throat and takes it as an acceptance of his apology. He doesn't quite ask her how her day's been, but he sits down on the stool next to her, looking awkwardly into his drink.

[balletrat]

So how're you?

*Meg turns her head to look at him, though her eyes stray out to the main bar every few moments.*

[e_delmar]

Ain't too bad is what he says, and it's the truth if nothing else is.

"You?"

[balletrat]

Pas mal - er, not bad, *Meg corrects herself, quickly, with a rather sheepish grin.*

Sorry - you'd think I'd know better than to slip the French in these days, but I guess old habits die hard -

[e_delmar]

"Guess."

His fingers pick pick pick at the edge of the label on the bottle.

"Ain't heard no french before here."

Unless you count reading what was on the bottles of perfume in the ladie's department at the store, but that ain't real french anyways, he figures.

[balletrat]

*Meg's eyes widen, a little, startled.*

- pas de tout? None at all - now that's deprivation.

*Her full attention is on Ennis, now; whatever she was looking for temporarily forgotten.*

I mean, as far as I'm concerned it's the most beautiful language in the world -

[e_delmar]

"Don't speak nothing but english, where I'm from."

And not all that well, at that, going by how well Ennis speaks.

"Spanish maybe a bit. The migrants come up and work sometimes."

[balletrat]

Well, you Americans, you're kind of isolated, aren't you? *Meg says, with a quick grin.*

I mean - you could fit a lot of Europe into just one of your states, if I remember right - though I was never very good at geography.

[e_delmar]

Him, either, and he shrugs with an I don't know look.

"Ain't never been outside my state."

[balletrat]

Well - I'd never left Paris before I came here, *Meg admits; her glance darts towards the door, and then back to Ennis.*

And then I went all kinds of places with other people - but I still haven't found a place that matches up, really.

[e_delmar]

He nods sympathetically. Him, either.

"Got mountains?"

Hell, he doesn't know.

[balletrat]

*Meg stares, momentarily startled, before bursting into giggles.*

- non. No mountains - though we've got really tall cathedrals. Does that count?

[e_delmar]

Ennis' face turns down into a pout. Not a pout. Ennis doesn't pout. But something like a pout.

"Churches?"

[balletrat]

- yes, but it's not because they're churches that they're important, *Meg assures him hastily.*

It's more because of - beautiful stained-glass windows, and these absolutely ridiculous gargoyles, and bell towers and views over the whole city - if you see what I mean.