HAH! I got this up on time! Well, it should've been up this morning, but this works to. Hahaha.

Anyway, this is for Queen Violet (aka my amazing friend Riley) because her birthday is today! Happy fifteenth, darling!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Really. Think about it. What goes here?

The Magic of Ordinary Days

As a twenty-three year old professional chef and arguably the most recognizable face in Paris, Oliver Boulanger should have been satisfied with his life to the point of being annoying. He had everything a person like him could wish for-a billionaire inheritance from his father's death three years prior, a successful restaurant with more culinary awards than they had wall space in which to hang them, the acclaim of every seasoned artist who viewed his work. He had more social circles than he knew how to balance, more invitations to galas and cocktail parties than he could possibly R.S.V.P. with a "yes", and so many possibilities for amusement that he couldn't possibly be bored for even a second.

He should have been incredibly happy. But, as things would turn out, he was as far from happy as he could get.

Oliver was lonely. With his best friend Enrique's marriage (not that he was jealous-he loved Enrique and Queen both and wished them only the best) and the engagement of his remaining bachelor friend, Robert, he had suddenly become the only loner in a company of otherwise paired-off friends, and they could only try to include him so much. He didn't want to feel like he was a third wheel-that was quite possibly his least favorite feeling, right after the feeling of being wrong and arguing anyway-so more often than not, he said he didn't have time, or he already had plans, or he wasn't feeling well. It saved them the trouble of trying to make him feel included when they really just wanted to be with each other.

Sighing, he pulled off his jacket-spring in Paris could go from cool and breezy to warm and sunny within the space of a few hours, but he'd rather be with a jacket than without. He looked around Luxembourg Park dismally. Today was just so ordinary. Sure, it was beautiful, with the sun shining and the flowers in bloom-worthy of a painting, in fact-but it had been exactly the same sunshine and flowers and carefree weather for a month, and it was getting old. He wished he could just hop on the jet and go Somewhere Else, just for a few days or a week as a change of pace, but as the calender on his Blackberry steadily reminded him, being the most popular artist and chef in Paris had more than its fair share of obligations.

Looping the jacket over his arm, he looked up at the herd of puffy white clouds meandering slowly through the blue sky and was briefly reminded of Johnny's estate in Scotland and its vast population of sheep. He smiled faintly at the thought, and started walking again through the park's maze of pathways, still considering the resemblance of the clouds to the McGregor herds.

Several yards later, something small and distinctly pineapple-scented rammed into his chest, making him take a step back in surprise.

A diminutive young woman with orchid pink hair cut in an attractive pixie style rubbed her nose and looked up to see what she'd walked into. She blushed to the tips of her ears and glanced up through her eyelashes at his curious gaze. "Lo siento," she mumbled, ducking her head again.

"Desolé," he said blankly at the same time, bending down to pick up the jacket that he didn't remember dropping and throwing it over his shoulder.

She grimaced in thought for a second before saying haltingly, "Par- Parle vous-"

"Parle vous anglais?"

She nodded, looking slightly relieved to not have to struggle through the rest of the question.

He smiled and nodded back. "I can, if it's easier for you."

A grateful and relieved sigh escaped her. "Thank you," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I really should learn to speak French-I come here often enough. And maybe learning my way around would be a good idea, too." She glanced up at him again and the receding blush heated up again. "I'm a little lost-I went shopping for the afternoon, and now I can't find my way back to my hotel."

"Then you bumped into the right Parisian-I've lived here since I was a baby. I'm sure we can get you pointed in the right direction, Madamoiselle...?"

"Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I'm Mathilda."

"Oliver Boulanger. You...come here often?"

She studied him for a second before the proverbial light bulb kicked on. "Oh! I thought you looked familiar. Majestics in the World Tournament way back when, right?"

"Yeah, way back when." He smiled and offered his arm. "Didn't think anyone recognized me from that anymore."

"Well, you do look...older, I guess." She slipped her hand into his elbow and let him lead her back the way he had come.

"I should, it's been eight years since I last competed on a multinational level." Oliver looked down at her. "You were...on the Spanish team, right?"

"Barthez Battalion, yeah." She smiled with a sad fondness at a hydrangea bush and reached out to stroke one of the petals as they passed. "Best and worst two years of my life."

"How are the rest of your team? Do you still see them often?"

Mathilda nodded. "I don't see Claude and Aaron as much as I'd like, since Aaron's in New York and Claude works nights at a restaurant in Barcelona, but I talk to Miguel a lot. ...He's married now, did you hear that?"

"Yes, to Julia if I remember."

She smiled again, this time with nothing but joy. "They're expecting their first child in January." She giggled and tossed her head back to look at the sky. "I'm going to be an aunt, can you believe it?"

"I'm sure that'll be fun. I'm not very good with kids, myself."

Still smiling radiantly, she nudged him with her shoulder and shook her head like she didn't believe a word. "I'm sure you're wonderful with kids. You might not have any experience with them, and that might be the problem, but I'm sure you'd be wonderful once you knew what you were doing."

He shook his head with a smile. "Whatever you say, madamoiselle."

"Do you speak to your team often?"

"Euh, de temps en temps. Enrique's married and Johnny and Robert are both engaged, so I try not to intrude on their alone time with their significant others." He smiled ruefully. "It's hard, being the only bachelor in the midst of all these couples."

"Ah, don't I know what that's like. I only know, like, one other single girl who's my age-everyone's getting married and settling down. It's crazy, isn't it?"

"Makes you feel like you're missing out."

She sighed. "Finally, someone gets it." A smile overcame her lips as he laughed. "So, Enrique's married?"

"Mmm-hmmm. To this woman named Queen-you probably don't know her, but she was on the circuit back before the World Tournament. They're very happy together."

"I would've thought he'd be the last to settle down."

Oliver laughed. "That's what everyone says when they hear that. Actually, Johnny and his fiancée have been dating so long they're practically married already."

Mathilda nodded. "Claude and his girlfriend are like that."

"He's dating?"

"Yeah, it surprised us too. But we're really happy for him-they're good for each other."

"That's good."

Oliver felt his spirits sink a little closer to his shoes as they neared the edge of the park. For a few minutes, he hadn't been lonely, and it had felt nice, darn it. He didn't want it to end. "I know it's getting late, and you probably have somewhere to be in the morning, but would you have dinner with me at my restaurant? I would take you back to your hotel afterwards."

Mathilda smiled shyly. "I'd like that. And I don't have anywhere to be very early tomorrow-just my cousin's wedding, and that isn't until four in the afternoon."

"Is that why you're in Paris?"

"Sort of. I'm here a lot anyway, so this is really just one more trip." She stepped a little closer to him. "I haven't seen my cousin in forever-I'm really excited."

"I bet. I really don't have much of an extended family, so I wouldn't know. ...Always wanted to have a big extended family."

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared thoughtfully at him. "You could come with me? I need someone to bring, anyway, and it'd be nice having someone who's not family to sneak away with if I get bored."

In his pocket, his Blackberry vibrated, as if to remind him that he had other commitments. Retrieving it, he turned it off and put it back without another glance. "I'd love to, but are you sure it would be okay?"

She smiled and took his arm again, silently signaling him to continue leading the way to the restaurant. "Of course-my cousin told me it'd be okay if I brought someone, just so I wouldn't be a wallflower all night at the reception."

Oliver stepped around a table on the sidewalk and pulled open the door to the restaurant. "After you, madamoiselle."

She grinned and stood on her toes, giving him a peck on the cheek before going inside.

He blinked, struck dumb, before smiling a little bit himself and following her inside.

Maybe this was everything he wanted.

Euh. Totally didn't turn out how I intended it, but either way, hope you liked it, Riley! Happy birthday!

Translations:

Lo siento/Desolé = Sorry (first one's Spanish, second's French.)

Parle vous anglais? = Do you speak English?

Madamoiselle = miss (should be common knowledge)

de temps en temps = from time to time/sometimes

Hey, look, you picked up a little French. Bonus.

Please review.