Disclaimer: I do not own Noir.

-Blood Lilies-

Once, a long time ago- Mireille loved to climb trees. She took physical pleasure in scrambling from limb to limb, and hoisting herself into the hidden hollows. Sometimes her brother would climb with her. The siblings would sit side by side on a sturdy limb, swinging their feet as they marveled at how high they had climbed.

Then as dusk approached, they would reluctantly climb down from their refuge. At home, their mother would have the table set for dinner, with a pretty vase of Bella donna lilies in the middle of the table as a center piece.

But her carefree days of childhood ended in one instant of violence, blood and death. One act that forever changed her destiny..

Now she found herself staring at the girl that seemed to hold all the secrets to that painful event. Did she know who was behind it? Did she know who pulled the trigger? The girl's eyes gave away nothing as she stared back at her. The blonde woman finally turned away from her, and the girl resumed setting the table for dinner.

Mireille went over to look out her apartment window. The glint of the silver pocket watch that was sitting beside the plant on the table stand caught her eye. Gingerly, she picked it up and lightly traced her finger over the engraving.

"Dinner's ready, Mireille," Kirika called to her softly.

The blonde set the watch down with a sigh and slowly turned to face the table. She gasped. For there in the middle, amongst the food, dishes, teacups and bread basket was a vase full of Bella donna lilies.

"The lilies, where did you get them?" Mireille asked in surprise.

The Japanese girl blinked. "I...I thought you'd like these flowers. You've bought them at the market before." she said almost in a whisper.

The blonde had lost her appetite. "Please throw them away," she said "They belong on graves, not on our dinner table." She walked past Kirika and towards the other side of the small apartment. " I'm going to bed." she said, as the girl looked in confusion at Mireille's retreating back.

"I'm sorry," the Japanese girl said. "I didn't mean.."

"I'm tired. There's nothing to talk about," the blonde said, as she sat down on the bed and began pulling off her black boots.

Kirika then grabbed the offending flowers from their vase.

XXXXXXXXXX

A short time later, Kirika eased into the bed that Mireille was sleeping in. The blonde instantly tensed in her sleep as the girl's skin accidentally brushed against hers. The bed was smaller than a double and there really wasn't enough room for two people. The reasons that the Corsican woman insisted that Kirika share the same bed were unknown to her. She figured that the blonde wanted to be in close proximity to her for safety reasons.

She gently turned on her side so she could study Mireille's face. Her eyes roved over the regal features, the papery translucence of the blonde's fair skin. Her hair was spread over her pillow in thick golden waves, the skin of her shoulders was creamy and smooth.

Kirika was intrigued that someone who could be so stubborn and cold at times, also seemed very fragile. For a fleeting second, the girl wondered what it would be like to kiss the soft pink lips of the woman lying asleep beside her. Then in her next thought, Kirika realized that if she wanted to- she could kill Mireille in an instant, so smoothly and quickly that the blonde would never feel a thing, she wouldn't even wake up. But she didn't want that, did she?

Such was the enigma that was their relationship. Were they allies, enemies, unwilling partners or something else?

So instead of acting on either impulsive thought, Kirika closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep, ignoring the warmth of Mireille's body so close to her.

Maybe one day those flowers would grace their graves. But for now, the Bella donna lilies lay forgotten on the floor at the foot of the bed.