Chapter's title was borrowed from the lyrics of Cole Porter's "I love Paris".

Chapter 2 – Paris, when it sizzles

Paris, the following night

Even the chilly drizzle outside could do nothing to dampen the Germanic spirit of this joyous celebration. In attendance were over two hundred guests, from German officers stationed in Paris to leaders of the new French government and a handful of A-list personalities, some looking happier than the others.

Tonight, Zachary Keitel belonged to the latter.

He was leaning back casually against the wall, a half-empty glass of Champagne in his hand. His long wavy hair was tied back in a ponytail, barely a tuft out of place, and his impeccable uniform was neatly tucked in

Music was lovely. Food was great. Company, on the other hand, could not be worse. Endless rounds of frivolous pleasantries with the high officials and a band of clingy debutantes were not what he had signed up for. His sworn brothers-in-arms had all but deserted him to this tedious caucus of a celebration. Apparently they'd all rather be climbing the Alps than spend a minute around these bigwigs. All but one particular man, Johan.

Yet, strangely enough, the said man was nowhere in sight. Zachary sighed as he took another gulp of wine.

Running his green eyes through the crowd, he seemed to finally find solace from a figure across the room. A girl was sitting alone by the windows staring down at her glass. She looked like someone who could hold a real conversation for more than five minutes.

They could both use some company, he thought.

Adjusting his uniform, he made his way through the crowd. As Zachary was about to call out for her attention, someone else got his.

"Zach!" He turned around at the sound of his name.

"Maxie! Thanks God." Zachary relaxed at the sight of his old friend. Maximilian von Rundstedt, the now approaching black-haired man, was a Field Marshal in the German army and Zachary's and Konrad's direct commander in France.

"Enjoying the party?" smiled Maximilian.

"Splendidly," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Where's your wife?"

The Marshal and his childhood sweetheart had been married not too long ago. The honeymoon glow had yet to fade from the man's face, despite the gruesome fighting he had endured in the past weeks, not to mention the storm of protests from his family and fellow officers when Maximillian decided to informed them that his bride-to-be was the princess of the abdicated Kaiser.

"She's chatting with some violinist in the hall. You know how she is at these events," Maximilian chuckled. He could not have chosen a better wife for this.

"So, my dear Field Marshal, if you could please tell me," Zachary asked, twisting a lock of his blonde hair. "Why are we stationing in Lyon?"

"Konrad told you, I presume? I think you would have figured it out yourself, pretty boy."

People gave Zachary too much credit sometimes. The 24-year-old Major, young for a man of his position, did try hard to live up to his reputation nevertheless. "Well, I did come up with an idea or two. But I suppose it doesn't really matter. This will only be a temporary deal, correct?" Zachary replied matter-of-factly, taking another sip from his glass.

"You're not only pretty, you're smart," the Field Marshal's raucous laughter could be heard across the room, startling quite a few guests.

At his words Zachary glanced up to see two beautiful ladies coming their way. "Here comes your wife. And the lady accompanying her, I assume, is the violinist you'd mentioned?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Because I'm not only pretty, I'm also smart," he shrugged.

'And also vain', Maximillian made a mental note to himself.

"Zachary, you're here!" The bubbly blonde pulled him in for a hug.

"You look great, Susanna," he smiled. The princess radiated with more energy every time he saw her.

"You too," She turned to her guest. "Mademoiselle Reynaud, let me introduce you. This is Major Zachary Keitel of the 4th Infantry Division under my husband's command."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle. And, actually, it's the 5th Infantry Division," he stressed, not wanting to leave any misconception of his prestigious title.

"Oops, excusez-moi. And Zach, this is the famed violinist Michelle Reynaud."

"The pleasure is all mine, Major." Michelle's voice was as soft and gentle as the ocean waves. The very same thing could be said about her hair. There was an aura of mystic and graceful sophistication surrounding her features.

"Oh dear, the Minister of Propaganda's just arrived. We should go over there, Maxie." Susanna quickly took her husband's hand and led him away. "We'll talk later, Zachary, Michelle!" Maximillian could only shake his head. Just like that they were out of sight in mere seconds.

"How are you enjoying the party, Mademoiselle Reynaud? You know, I'm actually a keen fan of your music," Zachary started working his conversational skill, the very talent that got him going to all these events in the first place. Unlike most of his comrades, he had been specially trained in the art of banter and pleasantry since he was ten. It was a privilege, or perhaps a burden, one received for being born into a noble Prussian family.

"You are too kind, Major. I wish I could say the same about your… recent accomplishments." She gave him the faintest smile, her eyes looking down at her glass.

Stifling a slight cough, he changed the subject. "So, are you here with anyone tonight?"

"Yes, I am here with a friend. She is sitting over-" Michelle peered over his shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. "It seems as though she has already left. Please excuse me, Major. I should really go look for her. It's her first time at such an event."

"It was nice meeting you. I'm very much looking forward to your next concert," he raised his glass to hers.

"Thank you. Have a nice evening, Major," she courteously sipped down her wine.

Just as Michelle went out of view, a wolf whistle from behind drew his attention. Turning around, Zachary found a man with short curly blonde hair smirking at him. The man was Johan von Fritsch, First Lieutenant of the 12th Artillery Division and his most wanted man of the night.

"Champagne? Really? I thought this was supposed to be a German celebration," smirked Johan, downing his beer cup.

Meanwhile

A lone maiden stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, peacefully relishing in the quiet solitude and away from the commotion going on back inside. It had simply been too suffocating, even though she had barely been in contact with any guest the whole evening.

She peered up at the sky only to find, to her disappointment, the dark clouds had hidden the moon and even the stars tonight.

She opened up her palm to catch the falling drops of water from the earlier rain. From here, she could spot the Eiffel Tower, and also the flag now flying above it. Her fist clenched unconsciously at the view.

"Why is such a beauty standing out here all alone?" A male voice shook her out of her thoughts.

Zachary had never been good at keeping his composure, unlike a certain man whose absence tonight had already spoiled much of his mood. He sauntered over to the snickering Johan, who looked wonderfully comfortable with two beautiful ladies on his sides.

"Ladies, could you please give us a minute alone?" Zachary asked politely, earning himself a playful wink from one of the girls.

Johan teasingly called after them, "Come back later! I have more medals to sho –"

"Where have you been?" Zachary hissed through his teeth.

"Just keeping those lovely ladies company," Johan shrugged, taking another gulp of his beer. In truth, he too had not been enjoying this party. Much like he never enjoyed pretty much everything else in his life, save a few worthy moments on the battlefield.

"I meant for the past week. And by the way, I could have used a bit of that company." Zachary sat down, crossing both his arms and legs.

"From what I saw, you were doing just fine back there. She had a nice ass," Johan leaned back on the sofa, throwing his head back.

"We were making conversation! And could you please not use that kind of language with me," Zachary grunted.

"Lighten up, pretty boy. So, what's up?" Johan lit his cigarette and released a puff of smoke into the air.

Zachary immediately covered his nose and scooted away. "By order of the Marshal, our group is to station in Lyon starting next month."

"Huh. Is that so?" Johan's voice did not show the slightest hint of surprise or care.

"Yes, that's so. So start packing your things, Lieutenant!" Zachary was just about ready to stand up and leave. He was only here to finish Konrad's little assignment and he did.

"I, too, have some news for you," Johan cocked a sardonic eyebrow. "Do you want to hear the good one or the bad one first?" His fingers flicked the cigarette's ashes onto the marble floor.

"Just say it already," Zachary's patience with this man was running out. It was a good thing he had left his gun at home.

Johan mulled over his cup. "I heard the Gestapo will be arriving in France soon. I'm guessing some of them will be tagging along to Lyon. Their Captain is already here in town, some guy named Nikolaus."

"Of that I am already well-informed. Thank you," Zachary snorted, but not just at his friend's remark.

The Gestapo. Zachary never really cared for those buffoons. Coming from a Prussian family with a long-standing military tradition, Zachary was every bit as proud as he was vain. He refused to acknowledge this criminal organization as part of the German militarism.

"Maybe this second news will cheer you up. I saw dear, sweet Ameline today at her papa's office," Johan waited for his friend's reaction.

"What's she doing in France?" Zachary retorted, tightening the grip on his glass.

This child… He is too easy to read, Johan had always thought.

"How should I know? She's your fiancée. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get another refill." Johan patted his friend's shoulder and rushed to a group of actresses nearby.

The night was still young.

"What are you doing out here all alone, beautiful?"

The girl turned around to find a group of German soldiers, obviously drunk, staring at her like a pack of hungry wolves. She took a cautious step back. 'As if this night had not been bad enough already'.

"Come play with us." One of them walked up and put his arm around her waist.

"Officer, please mind your manners," she said, tossing his hand away from her body.

"Feisty this one is. I like her," another one chimed in.

Realizing it would be a waste of time trying to talk any sense into any of them, she rushed past the drunk men currently blocking the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" One of them grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Let go of me!" she shouted and wasted no time in digging her nails into his hand. She was done being polite.

"You little bitch," he pushed her to the ground and raised his hand, ready to strike down.

"I suggest you put down your arm and cease your harassment with the lady." A voice from behind startled them all. The drunk man stopped dead in his tracks as he faced the intruder.

"Ge…Ge…General!" Immediately they stood to attention and saluted their commander.

Pulling herself up, the girl looked over to her savior, as blue eyes met silver ones.

End of Chapter 2

Author's note:

I know the pace is a bit slow but I want to properly flesh out my characters first.

You may have guessed: Maximillian = Mamoru; Susanna = Usagi; Michelle = Michiru

Historical notes:

Historically Lyon wasn't militarily occupied by Germany until 1942, but for the sake of the story, let's assume it was.

Prussia: an old German Kingdom in Northern Europe that unified all the German States into the present-day Germany in 1871. The Prussian State was officially abolished after World War 2. It is often perceived as the symbol of the old German power and militarism. In the words of Napoleon Bonaparte: "Prussia was hatched from a cannonball".

The Gestapo was an organization of secret police responsible for matters of security and racial policy in Germany and later in occupied Europe. They were not a part of the German Army.