Angel: Yeah. I know I shouldn't start a new story when I have two still waiting to be done. Meh well. Call this a break.

Disclaimer: The day I own Noir is the day I own the world. That'd be in about 20,391 years.

Rated T cause it's a homophone to (of?) tea.

Inside the Mind of Mireille Bouquet

I remember the first time I met her. She was so mysterious, so confusing. And yet so… beautiful. She was deadly, just like her hair would be for any professional hairdresser. And for such a frail looking person, she was able to intimidate the largest and most confident of men.

Every time I saw her, I would get this pounding in my chest. I loved that feeling. It was so warm, and made me smile uncontrollably.

I know I shouldn't think of her in this way, because we're both assassins. We might have to kill each other one day.

"Mireille, your tea's getting cold."

…what was that? Some voice in my head other than my own?

"Mireille…"

I snapped out of my thoughts and saw Kirika sitting across from me. I forgot where we were, so I took a look around. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, people were busy with their lives and paid no attention to anything else. A dog was peeing on a fire hydrant but missed and instead went on its owner. I stared at the building that our table was in front of. Starbucks?

Oh right. We had the day off today. Altena had something else to do that didn't involve us. I remember she sent us a paper airplane letter thing. Something about a period? Running out of pads and sending Chloe to get some?

Heh, I could so imagine that girl running frantically through the desert to get those Always Maxi Pads with wings from Costco, or whatever the European equivalent to it is.

"Mireille, stop spacing out."

"Huh? Oh sorry."

Kirika had a worried look on her face. Maybe I should tell her I'm fine.

"Did they always have tea at Starbucks?"

"…huh?"

What? Where the hell did that come from? I must've had a really confused look on my face, because Kirika started giggling. Now that worried me.

"No, seriously. I thought they were all about coffee?" Crap! I did it again!

"Um well. I guess they don't have to stick to it," she tried her best to answer my random question, "no one says they just serve coffee."

I decided to stick with this topic.

"But it says 'Starbucks Coffee' in a green circle," I showed her the cup of a nearby person's Tall Vanilla Bean Frap, "See?"

"Hey! That's mine!" A girl with an ant-looking hairdo yelled. She slapped my head and snatched the drink out of my hand.

Note to self: Put her on the hit list.

"Uh," she said, dumbfounded.

Poor girl. I just tried to assure her of my well being and what came out was far from it. How did I get to tea, anyway?

Just then a low-flying airplane passed overhead. It was dragging along with it a banner. It read, "Why are you worrying about You-Know-Who when you should be worrying about YOU NO POO? The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation!"

Ew. I remember now. That thing was flying by a bit further away not too long ago. Tea can make you constipated. And I was drinking tea. This reminds me of that one really bad case I had—

"Mireille, what are you doing?" Kirika said quietly.

Good question. "I don't know."

"You were singing a song about.." she whispered the word, "constipation. The tune sounded like Alouette."

Oooh yeah. That was from my elementary years. Some classmate of mine – Dominique, I think it was - accidentally said constipating instead of confusing. And because of that it began this whole song popular amongst us then third graders. It was started by some immature guy with a generic name. Jean. Or was it Mathieu? (A.N. True story.)

Constipation, lack of dutiation

Constipation, it—

"Uh, I think we should go, Mireille. You're scaring the customers." Kirika's hand was on my shoulder, a bit tense.

Aw, and I was having so much fun already. It was then I realized that I, for no apparent reason, was pressing my face against the window, drooling and staring at an innocent teen who was in the middle of slicing a muffin.

Mmm. Muffins. I took my face off the glass (which left an ugly smear of my breath, lipstick and other makeup) and gave an apologetic glance to the traumatized girl.

I cleared my throat. "I think you're right. Let's go to the park."

Kirika's worry had deepened. And every few seconds she'd glance at me, look down and face forward. It was getting kind of annoying.

"I'm fine, Kirika. I'm just thinking about things." Yay, it came out correctly this time.

"Like what?"

"Oh, nothing exciting. Just..." I trailed off, for something had caught my eye.

The ice cream man!

"Just what?" Kirika prompted.

Goodness. That jingle's so mesmerizing. Bless whoever composed The Entertainer.

"Mireille?" I stared into the street, where the Jolly Olly man had parked his truck at the curb to sell his goods.

"Come on!" I dragged Kirika by her right sleeve, something no one should ever do. Who knows what could fall out? Last time it was a knife shaped into a cow. It mooed when it pricked my arm.

"W-wait! Where are we going?" I assumed she saw it, because not a second later she stopped her struggling and began running ahead of me.

By the time I got there she was already licking her second vanilla ice cream cone. I ordered mine in a cup and we sat at a bench nearby. I was kind of mad because he gave me a fork to eat with, but I let it slide.

We ate our dairy delights in silence, watching Paris life go by us. Tourists thought we were statues, because after finishing our snack, we sat motionless for over fifteen minutes. They took pictures of us, going "Ooh!" "Ahh!" and "So lifelike!"

I sneezed, and the group of foreigners froze in place. I sniffed a bit and they began to yell and run away, probably believing I had cursed them with a lifetime of bad something or other. Kirika always tells me my sneezes sound like Darth Vader's breathing.

Then out of the blue, Chloe passed by us, trying to inconspicuously carry a large cardboard box of Always pads underneath her cloak.

"My, what a large growth you have at your side, Chloe," I chuckle at my own joke. The teen stopped in her tracks.

Kirika greeted Chloe with a nod, which the magenta-haired girl reciprocated. She then turned to me.

"Afternoon, Mireille," she said with no emotion. I smiled a bit.

"So, how goes your mission? Is there any blood this time?" I joke.

"Ha, ha," she laughed sarcastically, "Do you know how bad Altena's periods are? Because we live in a place where time is slower, it takes at the very least two weeks before she can switch to panty liners. It's gross." She made a sour face.

Ew. That must suck for her. But wait, since the priestess lives in a place where time flows slower – heh, flows – how old does that make her? She was a refugee in a war as a child, right?. So since she looks like she's in her mid 30's, that'd mean she was around during the Cold War.

But taking into account the fact that it's a bit more than two times slower than normal at the Manor, that'd mean she's around her 60's. If this were true, then she most likely was caught in World War II.

Wah! My head was spinning from thinking so much. But wow. Altena sure can keep her shape.

"Uh, is she okay?" Chloe asked Kirika.

"She's been acting like that all day. Maybe she's having her period too." Kirika whispered something to Chloe. It sounded like, "I think you should slip her a pad.."

"No I'm not," both girls jumped a bit, "I told you before, I was just thinking."

But seriously. I'm so not me today. It's like someone just got inside my head and made me become insightfully aware of everything.

"Want to join us for some tea at home, Chloe?" The girl was a bit surprised that I of all people invited her. I was too, cause I just wanted to say have a nice trip back.

"Sure, why not," she said anyway.

Curse my uncoordinated body.

That night we had a moonlit tea party. It was very peaceful, and there was no tension in the air this time.

We had played a rousing game of Twister, which was abruptly stopped because people on the other flats were hitting their walls to make us shut up. But Chloe won anyway. We also played BS, which was very hard because we all had such outstanding poker faces. It took us half the night to actually finish the game. Which I won, because I'd stocked up on the cards. It's a stupid tactic, I know. But hey, whatever helps me win.

Chloe decided to spend the night, for some reason not wanting to travel in the dark. She slept on the couch while Kirika and I stayed in the bed.

Oh sigh. It's unfortunate being so wide awake at a time like this. But at least I got to stare at the girl I admired. Her sleeping face was so calm and innocent, the complete opposite of what she really was. A killer.

I realized that throughout this day, there were subtle hints that seemed to be about her. Hm. I guess I really can't live without her. Even though she works for the Soldats. She loves Kirika, but that's okay. Looking is good enough for me.

I yawned for a while, finally sleepy. So I pulled the blanket up to my shoulders, closed my eyes, and softly whispered,

"Good night, Chloe."

Angel: Wow. Staying up at 2 in the morning to finish this. I have a wedding to go to today.. that's not good. But heh, whatever.

You like the twist? I sure did. Ha! Ha.. ha.

Tidbits:

Yes, there were shout outs to Harry Potter 6 and an anime. If you figure out which one, then yay. You get nothing except the satisfaction that you solved a less than vague clue about a show. What a true Otaku. :D

That whole age bit was based on Altena being 36 in the year 2010. Go check the math. I know I'm good. :P

I realize that there is another fanfic here, Metal, that is about Mireille. I had no idea about it and it's purely coincidental. Please don't think of me as a moocher. I hear that enough from myself during school.

Well. Review please!

7/21/06