A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! I have probably 3 more ideas after this one. It's short and super fluffy, because I just wanted to give you all a happier Vauseman Paris. Enjoy :)
That year, Piper became enchanted with airports.
After spending five straight months hopping between continents, she noticed that travel hubs were full of surprise theatre: round a corner and there was a soldier striding toward his homecoming, a teary smile cracking through his practiced, stoic expression. Atop an escalator, two lovers would be holding each other for the first time in weeks, bodies pressed tight in an unspoken promise to never again become separated. Where once the din of the travelers sounded like white noise to Piper, now she heard it as its own sort of poetry. She had a new fondness for the stories of strangers because, just like her, they were all hopeful hearts skipping after someone.
That year, Piper's life in the States become a revolving door. From time to time she stepped back into it, visited family, reunited with friends, only to take a taxi back to the airport each time Alex beckoned.
Terminal gates stretched out before her like an infinite succession of forks in the road, an endless number of choices. Each plane promised to set her feet somewhere new: Amsterdam, Tahiti, Venice, Sao Paulo. A thousands cities advertising a thousand different sights. But Piper knew by now that were was only one true destination. That year, every flight led back to Alex.
Most often, they traveled together. Piper would fall asleep against her girlfriend's shoulder on long trans-Atlantic flights, waking up sore and complaining about her lumpy pillow. Alex would tease her for her ability to doze off anywhere; on the plane, at the gate, in a train station. She was always playfully threatening to leave Piper behind. 'You'd never even notice,' she'd tease, and Piper's response was always just a sleepy smile. She could have said, You're the only thing I notice. She could have told her, You're the first thing I remember at the start of every morning. But instead she'd just snuggle closer and bury her face in the warm crook of her girlfriend's neck, as close to her skin as she could possibly get with layers of clothing between them.
The spent months on end curling into one another beneath hotel bedsheets while, outside, time flew by almost unnoticed. Now it was the end of December, and beyond the walls of their rented room the beckoning glow of Parisian street lamps went unheeded.
Piper sat up slowly, untangling the bedcovers that had threaded their way around her limbs as she moved in her sleep. Alex was stretched out and dozing beside her, shirtless and soft and perfect.
As she made to stand up, Piper felt her girlfriend's fingers reach for her in the darkness.
"Don't leave," Alex mumbled, wrapping an arm around Piper's waist and pulling her back into the safe cocoon of their bed.
Smiling indulgently, Piper lifted Alex's hand and kissed the back of each knuckle before releasing it. "Okay," she whispered agreeably, pressing Alex's captured hand against her stomach.
"Good." Alex face nuzzled against her bare shoulder. "What time is it?"
She squinted at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was analog, not digital - probably intended as a charming touch of decor but was, in actuality, an annoyance. "I can't see it... hang on."
She made to roll toward the edge of the bed, but Alex still had one arm wrapped around her waist. "Alex..." Piper tugged on the wrist of the offending hand, and felt the grip loosen; for half a second she thought she'd won. Then Alex's palm slid upward, climbing the ladder of her ribs before settled over her breast and squeezing it playfully.
"Hey!" Piper whispered, in half-hearted protest. "Al..."
"Mm, what?" She pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her girlfriend's shoulder. "You can't sleep naked and expect me not to take advantage."
"But..." She tried to focus, but Alex's hands continued to wander over her body, making it hard to concentrate. "Alex, it's nearly ten."
"What?"
Piper felt her girlfriend stiffen behind her, before uttering a soft curse and rolling away onto her back.
"Shit," she moaned "Pipes! Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Because I was asleep?"
"Shit! We were supposed to meet at the club half an hour ago. Where are my glasses?" Alex stood up, fumbling around for the light switch. The bedside lamp flicked on, and Piper ducked her head, eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted. All the romance of the moment evaporated. She rolled over and got to her feet, yawning as she stretched her limbs
"I'll go get ready," she mumbled, disappearing into the bathroom.
They'd only arrived in France that morning; this time last night they'd been in Cancun. Well, not this time exactly - jet lag was a bitch. They'd fallen into bed almost immediately after checking in to their hotel, heedless of the fact that it was New Years Eve and they had very specific plans to meet Alex's business associate, Fahri, at a club tonight. They were already late, and Piper hurriedly pulled on her dress and swept her hair back, taking far less care with it than she would ordinarily.
She was just putting her earrings in when Alex appeared in the doorway behind her. The brunette was dressed in her everyday uniform - her favorite pair of jeans and plain v-neck tee shirt.
"Alex, you can't wear that," she complained, studying her own reflection in the mirror with a critical eye.
"I don't want to go."
"What?" Piper turned around to face her girlfriend, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I thought you said this was important?"
"It's just a stupid New Years party."
"You said Fahri was going to introduce you to some contacts in the city."
Alex tilted her head back impatiently. "Well, fuck him." She pushed off from the doorframe, striding forward and draping her arms over Piper's shoulders. "Pipes, it's our first night in Paris. You really want to spend it at a stupid club? Let's go out. Let's see the sights."
"You love clubbing," Piper replied, defensively. "And you've been to Paris like half a dozen times!"
Alex slid her hands down her girlfriend's sides, tracing the outline of her body.
"But I've never been here with you."
The pure, undisguised affection of this statement made Piper smile, and she leaned forward as Alex placed a tender kiss against her cheek. "Okay," she conceded.
"Okay?"
"Let's go out, wherever you want. I'll go anywhere with you, Alex. You know that."
Because it was true on that first trip to Bali, and it was still true now: Alex was the kind of woman worth crossing the world in search of.
They left the hotel hand-in-hand, making tracks in the fresh powder of snow that carpeted the streets. Alex navigated their route with confidence. Her grip was steady on Piper's hand, drawing her along with such obvious intention that it begged the question: "Where are you taking me?"
"You'll see," Alex said, unhelpfully, grinning sidelong at her girlfriend as they walked.
They found their way to the banks of the Seine. Lights glimmered on the glassy water, which had not yet grown cold enough to freeze. There was something wonderfully calming about rivers. It was, Piper decided, the knowledge of their endless movement - that if she dropped something in the water now, it could be hundreds of miles away by morning.
They walked for a quarter mile before Alex found what she was looking for: it was a pedestrian bridge, wide but relatively unremarkable at first glance. There was a bright, anticipatory expression in her eyes as they crossed. She stopped walking at the exact midpoint, causing Piper to stare at her in confusion.
"The Pont de Arts," Alex said, by way of explanation. "Also known as the Lover's Bridge. Look." And she drew Piper toward the railing.
The wire fence that bounded the bridge was barely visible; thousands upon thousands of padlocks had been affixed to it, many of them with messages or pairs of initials scrawled across them. They had been left here by thousands of couples, mostly tourists. The padlocks were supposed to represent promises of enduring romance made while standing here in Paris, the City of Love. It was a cheesy gesture, borderline vandalism, but the symbolic sweetness of it caused Piper's heart to rise to her throat.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, reaching for Alex's hand. She found it, only to discover that it was occupied by something cold and heavy. "Is that...?"
Alex opened her palm, revealing a small silver padlock with the initials A.V. and P.C written on it in permanent pen. "Yeah," she said, sounding unusually bashful. "It's kind of stupid, but I thought maybe... do you want to?"
"Yes," Piper said immediately. She took the lock,, and together they searched for an unclaimed space in the fencing. Before affixing it she glanced questioningly at Alex, who nodded - and then she looped the heavy lock through the fence, forcing it closed with a satisfying 'click.' Alex withdrew the keys from her pocket and tossed them over the fence, listening for the soft plunk! as they sank into the water.
Now Paris would never forget them.
They stood for several minutes side by side, facing the river instead of each other, watching the reflection of the city lights ripple on the water. Piper felt suddenly afraid; it was like that moment in tug-of-war when you win, and then suddenly all of the slack rope comes flying at you and you fall, momentum knocking you backward. Piper had picked up so much momentum chasing after this person, trying to figure out if the love she felt was genuine or just some kind of gratifying pleasure. Now she was standing on a bridge in Paris, hand-in-hand with her: Alex, who didn't do courtship. Alex, who hated the rules of relationships. Alex, who was addicted to movement, who could never stay in one place with one person for too long; yet she had written their initials on a padlock and thrown away the key, and it felt a lot like a promise.
"You know," Piper said, breaking the silence. "It's probably close to midnight."
The memory of their first New Year's Eve together came flooding back, bringing a smile to their faces.
"Is that so?" Alex questioned.
"Mhmm."
"Well then."
And there, on a bridge spanning the Seine, Piper kissed her girlfriend like they were the only two lovers in Paris.