Camille de Greene, AU!Quantum of Solace*, onceuponabarways

[mmsaki]

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[familledevert]

There are two people sitting at a table nearby. A woman and a man, both with dark hair and the same feel to them - rich family.

The man is considerably more uptight than the woman - she seems used to accepting whatever he decides upon, shoulders relaxed, polite smile on her features.

They're talking quietly, sitting close together, but not too close.

The man cuts the woman off, voice soft but with a no-questions-asked lilt that Camille might find familiar.

"Anne-Sophie, je m'en fiche."

[onlyneed1shot]

She finds it familiar enough to jerk her attention back to them, which is something she tries not to do (too obvious if anyone is looking at her).

And it's familiar enough that the name spoken - the woman's name, and there is something about her features... - makes her stare.

(she always had an excellent memory, even for names only read in files)

[familledevert]

He notices Camille first, and makes no bones in staring.

"Pardon, Ja--" "Bien sûr."

[onlyneed1shot]

Ja(cques)

Anne-Sophie.

Speaking French, accent more Swiss than not.

Tucking a strand of hair behind an ear (the light glints from her engagment ring and the simple wedding one), she meets his gaze with slightly narrowed eyes.

For once, she really hopes she is wrong.

[familledevert]

(Behind his back, she very, very carefully shakes her head.)

"Can I help you?"

[onlyneed1shot]

"I...Forgive me, you reminded me of someone."

(if she is wrong, this will be awkward. if she is right, this is will be - she suspects, but doesn't know, has never asked, will never ask - extremely awkward)

[familledevert]

"Who?"

(He is currently too miffed about being dead to give a damn about his manners.)

[onlyneed1shot]

Well, if he wants to be blunt...

"My husband."

[familledevert]

Père is unimpressed.

Mère, on the other hand, offers Camille a small smile.

[onlyneed1shot]

She ignores Jacques in favour of returning a smile to Anne-Sophie.

[familledevert]

"Might I ask you and your husband's names?" says Jacques.

[onlyneed1shot]

"Certainly, senor," she says, now every inch the daughter of one of Bolivia's oldest families. "I am Camille de Greene Montes, so my husband would be Dominic...Greene."

Despite the easy confidence, despite the socialite's smooth tones, her green eyes are sharp as needles.

[familledevert]

Neither of them reacts terribly visibly - the changes in their expressions are subtle.

Anne-Sophie's eyebrows both rise a fraction of an inch - that's my son - and Jacques' mouth draws itself into a thin, thin line.

He speaks up first.

"How old is he?"

[onlyneed1shot]

"Forty-three," the thirty-year-old woman replies. Watching them, of course, but that goes without saying.

[familledevert]

Jacques does not respond.

(It's been twenty years, give or take.)

(Anne-Sophie doesn't seem to be able to decide whether to be happy or slightly worried.)

[onlyneed1shot]

Camille, for her part, seems content to watch them - although 'content' is not the right word for that sharp, assessing, careful look.