Disclaimer: All the characters from CC aren't mine, but are the property of CBS… unfortunately!!
So, here is my second fic… it will be quite long, and I do hope it will be interesting!
It's a complete story, but I'm not sure it could be a full episode. Some scenes are really short so I couldn't make a whole chapter of it…
As I watch the show in French, I'm not sure the actually speak like that, so, it maybe is totally OOC…
There will be a lot of L/S in it!
Hope you'll enjoy it.
Reviews are more than welcome!!
God, really got to stop talking so much!!!!
Chapter 1 : Je n'en connais pas la fin…
Depuis quelque temps l'on fredonne,
Dans mon quartier, une chanson,
La musique en est monotone
Et les paroles sans façon.
Ce n'est qu'une chanson des rues
Dont on ne connaît pas l'auteur.
Depuis que je l'ai entendue,
Elle chante et danse dans mon cœur.
James just turned 18.
He runs, runs, holding Marie's hand tightly.
They hide behind a big house's porch, just a few blocks away from the park they so fastly escaped from.
"You still didn't tell them about us, did you? " asked Marie.
He shakes is head. No.
Marie takes back her hand from his. She stares at him… she didn't even seem angry. Just sad, so sad.
She turns away from him and runs, as fast as she can.
A few minutes before, they were so happy, walking side by side in the park. Talking and laughing. Everything was so simple, so natural when there were just the two of them.
But they had appeared, far, on the path. He had recognized them immediately.
Grabbing Marie's hand, they had escaped and hidden.
And now she was gone. He couldn't make her stay anymore. She was right and he knew it.
She had to leave, before everything became to complicated for both of them.
She had to leave.
Ha ha ha ha,
A mon amour,
Ha ha ha ha,
A toi toujours,
Ha ha ha ha,
Dans tes grands yeux,
Ha ha ha ha,
Rien que nous deux.
It's freezing on that cloudless April night.
Her body is floating in the water.
Her pale pink cotton dress is torn in pieces, her hair in a mess.
She's dead, her eyes wide open in the dark and cold water of the river…
Avec des mots naïfs et tendres,
Elle raconte un grand amour
Mais il m'a bien semblé comprendre
Que la femme souffrait un jour.
Si l'amant fut méchant pour elle,
Je veux en ignorer la fin
Et, pour que ma chanson soit belle,
Je me contente du refrain.
It was quite late in the afternoon. Lilly was drumming her fingers on the desk…
She was quite dreamy these days… Not really concentrate on the job. Her wound didn't hurt anymore, but since the shooting, she hadn't been completely back into work.
Maybe she could clean her desk, the papers were piling up… boring, boring, boring…
Scotty was at his desk too, finishing reports on a case they closed that morning.
A woman entered the office, seeming lost and looking for someone.
Lilly got up promptly and went to her.
"Hello. Can I help you?"
The young woman replied:
"Yes. Actually, I'd like to talk to someone about a really old case…"
"You're in the right place! I'm det. Lilly Rush, please, follow me."
Lilly lead the woman to her desk.
Scotty dropped his pen and got up.
She was beautiful, truly beautiful, the kind of woman you don't see everyday on the street. Tall, long blonde hair and big bright blue eyes… quite young, probably around 25. Although she was dressed simply, in jeans and a white shirt, she glowed.
Lilly said, turning her head to Scotty, who was now standing next to her:
"This is det. Valens. So, what is it about?"
The woman sat down on the chair Lilly had just shown her.
"My name is Beth Whitman.
In fact, I came because…
Where to start?
Well, my grandpa died 7 years ago.
I was emptying the attic, cause my grandma is coming to live with my dad.
And I found this, in an old suitcase belonging to him."
She opened her bag and took out some papers.
Letters, tied up with a white ribbon, turned yellow. A few pictures. And a couple of old press clippings.
She went on.
"I was really surprised to find these things.
"These, " she explained, showing the letters, "are love letters between my grandpa and a woman called Marie Dupin.
She turned over one of the pics.
It was written "1939, Marie and I".
"And the thing is…"
"This girl Marie, is the dead girl in the newspaper", said Scotty, holding one of the clippings, then stretching it to Lilly.
"Yes, I mean, I think yes. All this was tied up together. But there are no pics of the girl in the newspaper, except from this drawing."
"Looks like it's her", said Lilly, watching the clipping closely," we're gonna check it, the pic's blurry. Did you ask your grandma about it?"
"yes I did. She answered not. She said it was some old stories, and that it was to forget. She was really distressed and angry at me for finding these. I must say we had a bad argument."
Scotty and Lilly looked at each other. Anger and argument more than 60 years after?
Beth went on.
"She wanted me to give all this to her. But I didn't and left. She is really angry at me now, but I want to know what it's all about."
"ok, we'll take a look at it, but we'll have to keep these. And we have to check if this case is closed or not… it maybe is…", said Lilly showing the papers.
"Yes of course. This is my number and address", said Beth, taking a card from her bag. "Thank you so much."
She turned and left the office.
As she was leaving, Scotty asked:
"What do you think? There is something here…"
"Yep, definitely."
Lilly was looking at the picture Beth had brought. 1939, Marie and I.
"I almost finished on the Goldberg case. Do you want to wait for tomorrow? Or start right now?" he enquired.
"Now. And I'll talk to the boss about it tomorrow." answered Lilly, her eyes still locked on the beautiful couple on the picture.
"Ok, so let's start!"
"but you didn't fin…"
"I'll do that later", he interrupted, grinning.
"as you like it. Soooo… let's check the newspapers first."
In the amount of papers spread on the desk, they both reached for the same one.
For a brief second, Scotty's hand rested on hers. She quickly took her hand back and mumbled an almost unintelligible sorry.
Those sorts of awkward moments were happening a lot lately. Lilly was deeply troubled by it, but Scotty, although he looked quite uneasy, appeared serene.
He took a piece of newspaper and started reading it. Lilly was still holding her hand, staring at him.
"What?" he asked raising his head.
"Nothing… "
Nervously, she began rummaging around the heap of papers.
A few minutes passed…
"ok, so the body was found on… April, the 22nd, 1940, … no ID, …drowned in the river."
"Let's go!" she said, heading to the door.
Scotty watched her leaving.
She was always so enthusiast, when they reopened a case.He followed her, smiling to himself…
Not sure it would be that easy to find a jane doe from the forties!
A long evening was waiting for them…
Ils s'aimeront toute la vie.
Pour bien s'aimer, ce n'est pas long.
Que cette histoire est donc jolie.
Qu'elle est donc belle, ma chanson.
Il en est de plus poétiques,
Je le sais bien, oui, mais voilà,
Pour moi, c'est la plus magnifique,
Car ma chanson ne finit pas.
Song by Edith Piaf (Asso/Monnot), 1939.