*I do not own A Monster In Paris and it's characters
Written sort of like a countdown since I know that a fleas lifespan is fleeting. I thought Francoeur's days were numbered too, so that is where this story idea comes from. And don't forget to review since it feeds my muse
Chapter 1: 85 days left
"Francoeur, can you you tell me what you think about this dress?"
Lucille stood in the half light of the dressing room, weighed down in a red kimono, and Francoeur sat on his stooping the adjacent part and could not help but be mesmerized by the rich depth of flowing fabric. The color he likened to waves of blood, designs of koi leaping forth from puddles, the of the contrast of it to her skin gave her a porcelain appearance, and made her look dangerously delicious. He had given up blood a few weeks back, but it did not mean anything resembling it did not tempt him. His eyes followed her every move and he drank red wine to quench his thirst for blood at the moment. After a moments reflection, he nodded his head in agreement, and were both ready for their show.
The explanation as to their current dress went back to a few days before when Madam Carlotta had read of the expected arrival of Japanese dignitaries. With the idea of attracting international customers, she had Lucille in a red kimono and Francoeur in like fashion, wore the male equivalent and they looked great. Even if all the layers of clothing were a bit tedious to walk in, it was nonetheless a special occasion and they were dressed for their visiting guests. The curtains opened to show a full audience, with the special guests at table five. The lights made her skin glow, and with a smile she opened the show. "Good evening, welcome to the Rare Bird, it is so nice to see you tonight. For your listening pleasure, we have a brand new song written by our very own Monsieur Francoeur. It is called, Something We Share"
Walking over to the piano, Francoeur started to play the slow, romantic melody and then he began to sing.
"All of us share a pair of hands
And all of us have a pair of feet
So helpful to get to another place
Where will we meet?
None of us know when the sun will die
Or why is it that love songs make us cry
But as long as I have you, I will never be afraid"
Sitting beside him on the piano, she flashed him a quick glance and began to sing as well.
"So may we meet in a special place
Where there is no sadness or longing
When will it be that we may be
The time to meet might not be perfect"
"Never say you are by yourself
Because I am standing right behind you
The time to meet might not be perfect
But any time is good for me"
"There are so many long faces
And to many open spaces
But it can be filled
With love and kindness
If you will let it in"
"Everyone is sometimes lonely
But that does not mean that you have to be
I will give you a hug and and blame it on love
But would you do the same?"
"One alone is no good
And sadness is a lonely thing
However so, never let me go
To the end where I cannot find you
All of us share a face
and on that face there is a cheek
and on that cheek I will press upon it a kiss
to know that you are meant for me"
"All of us share a pair of hands
And all of us have a pair of feet
So helpful to get to another place
Where will we meet?
None of us know when the sun will die
Or why is it that love songs make us cry
But as long as I have you, I will not be afraid"
Because with you I know I am saved "
"Let us go to the place where no one knows, a place for you and me
The place that we will meet
A place that's safe for we
The place where no one is lonely"
Tears ran down Lucille's face, but she could not wipe them in fear of smudging her makeup. She had never expected to feel so emotional about it, but the way their show was set up, it felt too surreal. No matter how she felt about it, everyone clapped and cried and cheered and it reflected not only well for France, but on the Rare bird Caberet.
After the usual meet and greet, they changed into something more casual for dinner. Their late night dinner consisted of left over rice and wine, and shared glances over the dinner table.
