Fall Into Winter - Chapter 6 - A Parisian Valentine

RebaJean 7/30/06

Disclaimer: Characters are based on Sailor Moon copyright 1992 by Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha, TOEI Animation, English language adaptation Copyright 1995 by DIC Entertainment. This story is not intended for monetary gain or tangible profit, but purely for entertainment of the readers.

As usual when she traveled, Serena slept through most of the flight to Paris. When she awoke, there remained only a couple of hours until their arrival. Trapped for the duration, the couple conversed quietly and "caught up" with each other's lives. Darien would later reflect that it was one of the most valuable parts of the trip. He had been aware of Serena's depression but unable to understand how to help her with it. Serena was finally able to voice her growing frustration. "I just need you to be there and listen. You don't have to "do" anything." As with many men, Darien's focus had been on how he could "fix" Serena.

Although they arrived late at night, neither was tired. Serena was positively bouncing, ready for "adventures." After pressing through customs at Charles de Gaulle airport, Darien hired a shuttle to take them into the city. Their route looped through the northern part the city for a night view of some of the sights, highlighted by the glittering route from La Place de la Concorde up L'Avenue Des Champs-Élysées to L'Arc de Triumphe. Later as they approached the Eiffel Tower, Serena squealed, "Oh look, it's just like the Tokyo Tower."

Darien smirked, "Yes, this is the original, after all." He began to enthusiastically explain the Eiffel Tower's history.

Serena glared at him, "Okay . . .Professor . . . that's enough. I want to go see it." As soon as Darien had paid their fare, she grabbed his hand and darted toward the brilliantly lit edifice.

"Ooo, it's so pretty . . . The lights all twinkly . . . Don't you think"
Serena bubbled.

Darien propped on the rail by her side, his head swiveling to look where Serena pointed, gesturing wildly in all directions. His madcap blond had returned; her enthusiasm intact at least for the moment.

Three nights and two days, hardly enough to see the City of Lights, but hopefully time to reconnect with his wife, Darien mused. Their bond had diminished since she had been injured protecting the twins. He could still sense the ebb and flow of her surface emotions, but the touch of her thoughts had dimmed. He wondered if they would regain the hand in glove touch present since their marriage or if it had permanently returned to he level shared by Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon. His thoughts were interrupted when Serena shivered and pressed closer.

"It's cold and windy up here; can we go down now?" Serena's mood had flip-flopped again. Darien pulled her close; she looked up at him entreatingly. He pulled her back flush against his chest and wrapped his overcoat around them both. The low grey clouds now covered the sky where before stars had peeked though. Squinting out into the darkness, he could see patches of white swirling on the wind; it had started to snow. The flakes danced in the light as they disappeared below.

"It's midnight, what would you like to do now?" Darien murmured as he nuzzled Serena's neck. She shivered at the contrast between the cold wind on her face and his hot breath along the side of her neck.

Serena turned sideways so that she could look up at Darien. His eyes were full of mischief. He was probably going to tease her in some way. Serena giggled; it would be easy to distract him from whatever he was planning. Swiftly she rose on tiptoe and captured his face between her palms, dragging him down within reach of her lips. The blond caught her surprised husband in an impromptu embrace; the warmth of their kiss soon dispelling any thought of the cold.

"Let's walk to the hotel and see some of the sights," Darien suggested. "Its only about 5 kilometers to our hotel if you're not too tired."

They trekked across central Paris, passing through Parc du Champ de Mars, past École Militaire, l'Hôtel des Invalides, and over to Blvd. Saint-Germain, where Serena paused at a few of the clothing shop windows as Darien rolled his eyes. The wide boulevard had far too many fast food places, clothing boutiques, and other touristy shops as they reached the Quartier Latin near Musée de Cluny and the Sorbonne. Both were finally glad to reach the bakery and small coffee shop that occupied the first floor of bed and breakfast where they had reserved rooms.

Circling the block to the back alley, Darien let them into the cafe courtyard through the delivery gate. The guest rooms occupied the long wing of the L shaped building, with balconies overlooking the cafe patio garden. They climbed the outside stairway and walked quietly down the porch to their third floor room. Barely noticing the nineteenth century period decor of the large bedroom and modern attached bath, they tossed their coats on the pile of luggage in the corner of the room.

Serena flopped down on the bed, still clothed. "I'll just rest here while you clean up," she mumbled from her nest of pillows.

When Darien returned a few moments later, his eyes gleaming with mischief, to invite her to join him in the large hot tub occupying most of the elegant bath, he groaned. Serena snored loudly. She would not be in the "mood" if he woke her from her sound sleep, Darien mused regretfully. He quietly removed her outer clothes and joined her to sleep during the few remaining hours until their early morning tour began.

Dragging Serena out for the day at 7 a. m. for the tour he had booked was not the easiest thing Darien had ever done. The only thing that got her out of bed was the promise of sleeping late the next day, a much shortened tour of Versailles and the entire afternoon reserved for shopping. Their driver/guide made the trip through the Normandy countryside to the coast in somewhat less than the usual four hours. At the recommendation of his old medieval history professor, Darien had decided to include a tour of the beautiful abbey of Mont Saint-Michel, built on top of a tiny rocky island. Themonastery dated from the 13th century and was for long a pilgrimage destination. A stop for lunch at the village at the foot of the mountain, strolling the steep streets, poking through quaint shops at Serena's insistence, and a short visit to the ocean; it was soon time to return to Paris. There was barely time for a whirlwind visit through the Louvre before it closed to see the MonaLisa, WingedVictory, Venus deMilo, and others.

Serena stood eying the brochures glumly. "Do we have to go anywhere, I'm tired," she whined. Although he cringed at her tone and almost caved, Darien simply could not let his trip to Paris end without at least one evening at the cabaret.

Darien dropped to his knees and hugged her around the waist. "Please . . . I'll make it worth your while . . . after. . ." he begged huskily, dropping the pitch of his voice to the low pant of a perverted anonymous phone call.

The glossy brochures covered with fantastically lighted stages and scantily clad dancers promised dinner with champagne in the Parisian Cabaret hall of the Moulin Rouge or at the Lido on the Champs-Élysées. TheMoulinRouge had a cabaret show with flamboyant Can-Can dancing girls and music. The Lido also had dancing girls but featured a magician, acrobats, and stunts. Serena's expression brightened; she did like magic shows. "We'll go to the Lido," she said firmly. Her gaze steady at Darien's sigh of disappointment. The Can-Can dancers would have to wait for another trip.

The slightly inebriated young man staggered up the last flight of stairs, his petite, but not so light weight now, sleeping wife in his arms. What ever had possessed him to rent an upper story room?

Serena yawned, stretched, and opened sleepy eyes as her husband deposited a breakfast tray with coffee, tea, fruit and pastries from the bakery below. After a leisurely breakfast, they departed for the half anhour's drive to Château de Versailles, the world-renowned château built by the Sun King, Louis the Fourteenth, in the 17th Century. The guide showed them the royal apartments, the royalchapel, and the HallofMirrors. All were examples of royal French architecture and interiors at their most glamorous. The château is surrounded by gardens with other hidden charms of this magnificent palace and its dependencies: The Petit and the Grand Trianon summer palaces, the hunting lodge, the Queen's hamlet. While they strolled, their guide told stories about Louis the 14th and his wife, Marie Antoinette, and his mistresses.

After a very late lunch at Versailles, Serena indulged in her real reason to visit Paris - shopping. Starting off on rue Etienne Marcel for boutiques such as BarbaraBui, Cacharel, Paul&Joe and leShop for cutting-edge fashions and accessories. Along rue St-Honoré they checked out the upscale boutiques, luxury jewelers and "Colette", Paris' leading conceptshop. Her tour of course included La Galeries Lafyette as well. For a change Darien traveled lightly, nolugging your packages around when you can leave them in the car with your private chauffeur hired for the day. His duties consisted of handing his credit card to the cashier of each shop as she bundled up Serena's purchases. He reflected that even with the favorable exchange rate between yen and euro, his card balance would be extremely high after this trip.

That evening concluded with a candlelit dinner of classic French cuisine and live music on a riverboat cruising the Seine River. Darien stole a kiss as they passed under each bridge, murmuring that he could not recall the name of the bridge of which it is rumored that if you make a wish under this bridge, you will end up with your soulmate. Serena enthusiastically echoed her agreement, pointing out each one as they approached to make sure they didn't miss any.

Darien froze for an instant and his eyes widened in recognition as he watched his wife. Serena tossed her handful of bread scraps toward the flock of pigeons hovering behind the boat. She laughed and clapped her hands in delight as the birds swooped and dived to catch the treats before they hit the water. His old Serena was back and had been there all along, her light-hearted side buried under the cares of her daily life. She had been recovering gradually without him even noticing the improvement. Darien shook his head; he could kick himself.

The answers had been there to see, he had been too focused on "fixing" the "problem" to notice what was right in front of him. For a chilling instant he remembered his own fear; he had almost lost her; he had almost lost them all. His own buried emotions leapt to life for an instant before he quashed the outburst again. He finally acknowledged to himself, intellectually at least, that he had focused on Serena's problems and his work to escape from his own emotional reactions. He smiled grimly, his psychology professor had been right in his guess that Darien had his own deeply buried reactions that needed to be dealt with.

He reviewed the by now worn list. The birth of their twins thrust them both into the responsibilities of early parenthood - all on top of their mandate as "superheros" to save the world. The experience had been amazingly rewarding as well as overwhelming. Then the jewelry robbery, when Serena had almost died protecting their sons. And he had been too late arriving at the scene to save her from injury, the guilty accusation repeated. She seemed to almost smother the twins with attention afterwards, ignoring her own needs for comfort, and his as well, he remembered resentfully. It must have been her way of dealing with the post-traumatic stress as well as the lingering mild post-partum depression.

They had both damped down the psychic bond between them it seemed, unable to deal with the emotional overload. The emotional distance entered their physical relationship as well; the sex had been infrequent and less than spectacular. He had himself mostly to blame for that, Darien reflected. He left early for school and work and arrived home late after Serena was asleep. When he had begun working more from home, he still spent most of his time on schoolwork or programming. Well he would just have to remedy that, starting now, he grinned.

Back at the hotel, Serena hummed happily as she packed her new purchases into the waiting empty bags. A loud groan of pleasure from the bathroom caught her attention. She padded to the door and peered in curiously. Her smile grew wide and she silently removed her clothes, dropping them to the floor.

Sighing contentedly as the hot water soothed his tired muscles, Darien reclined against the backrest and let his legs fall open. He groaned as the hot jets of water increased his pleasure. His eyes drifted shut as the most delicious fantasies played in the theatre of his imagination. He could almost smell the scent of cherry blossoms, her pony tail trailing across his shoulder, and the touch of her lips on the back of his neck.

A slight splash of water and firm thighs straddled his lap, a soft backside pressed against his groin. A feminine sigh of pleasure as she sheathed home the part of him that had waved so invitingly to her amid the churning bubbles in the hot tub. Serena felt two arms snake around her waist pulling her even closer. Two hands grasped her waiting breasts and squeezed. "I thought you were part of my dream," Darien breathed across her shoulder and neck between open mouthed kisses.

"If this is your dream, then it's mine too," Serena laughed as she bounced on his lap.

"Just one more thing for your pleasure, my dear," Darien teased as he adjusted his seat, opening his legs so Serena's were spread widely, allowing the water jets full access between.

He smiled against her neck at her delighted gasp and exclamation, "We have got to get one of these for our apartment at home!"

Serena peered through the taxi window into the fog beyond. The long flight was over and they were home at last. The holiday had lifted her spirits and she was in a much more contented mood than when they had departed. She could hardly wait to get to her parent's to pick up the boys.

As they moved farther from the shore, the fog lessened and she could see the park as they drove past. Pink and white swirls danced on the breeze. It couldn't be snow; it was far too warm. Darien leaned over to see what had caught her attention. "Amazing . . I guess it's global warming . . . or maybe just an early thaw. Winter has turned into Spring and the cherry blossoms fall."

The End