Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, or put this story on alert - it really means a lot! We're getting close to the end of Jane's time in Paris now...
Hope you enjoy!
'Maura, it's got to be one of the hottest days of the year so far, and we're here for hot chocolate?'
Jane had taken a seat opposite Maura, and was looking around her with an expression of slightly terrified awe on her face. Smiling over at her, trying to put her at ease, Maura wondered if the terror was down to their recent conversation and near miss with Angela, or the high-end gilt-and-marble interior of Angelina's. Somehow, she suspected it was the latter. Jane had looked as if she was cycling on air all the way from Notre-Dame to the Jardin des Tuileries, where they had deposited the bikes, and had only begun to hesitate when she saw the entrance to the salon de thé.
'Unfortunate, I know', Maura conceded. 'But you can't come to Paris and not have chocolate at Angelina's. Or anything, really, the cakes are wonderful too. But the chocolat l'Africain is...well. You'll see'.
She didn't add that Angelina's was one of her own favourite places and that, having taken Jane and Angela to so many of her others that day, she hadn't wanted to miss Angelina's off the list. Neither did she mention that Angelina's was the place that she always went to when she had something to celebrate. Maura's mother had started the tradition by marking the opening of her first Paris exhibition with a large chocolat chaud and a side of whipped cream, while four-year old Maura had received a mini version of the same. It had been one of the few occasions that she could remember when her mother had actually included her in anything, and, perhaps for that reason as much as the chocolate, it had stuck in her mind. After that, Angelina's had become something of a ritual whenever there was something that warranted a visit...even if she did mostly go on her own.
All her early birthdays. Moving to Boston. Moving back from Boston. Passing her test for a French driving licence, which, in Paris, was no mean feat. Signing the lease on the pâtisserie and apartment. The opening of the pâtisserie. Her first wedding cake order. The arrival of Coco.
Now, after her conversation with Jane on the bench outside Notre-Dame, she felt like she had something to celebrate again.
'It's certainly...well...' Angela looked around her, drinking it all in with wide eyes, and Maura chuckled as she saw that, for once, Jane's mother was struggling for words.
'Posh?' Jane supplied. She still looked a little uncomfortable, but not nearly as worried as when she had first walked in. Maybe, Maura thought, the smell of the chocolate was working its magic already.
'Yes, but it feels nicely posh'. Angela settled into her seat. 'More kind of...'
'Decadent?' Maura had always thought that the word could probably have been invented to describe Angelina's, and Angela evidently agreed.
'Yes!' She nodded vigorously. 'That's exactly it'.
'And they even named it after you, Ma'. Jane grinned over at her mother, who gave her a 'don't be so silly' kind of smile in return. Because of that, Maura was fairly sure that Jane had been joking, but found herself explaining the real origins of the name anyway. It never hurt to have a bit of background.
'It was actually founded in 1903 by an Austrian', she said as she picked up a menu and handed it to Angela. 'Antoine Rumpelmayer. He named it after his daughter-in-law. It's had quite a few famous patrons...Audrey Hepburn used to come here'.
'Oh, really?' Angela looked delighted, and Jane rolled her eyes.
'You'll never get her out of here now'.
Maura's eyes twinkled as she caught Jane's gaze. She remembered Jane mentioning her mother's sudden, post-divorce addiction to films, and, now that she thought about it, she did recall 'Roman Holiday' being specifically mentioned as one that Jane would be quite happy never to have to see again.
'Do you like Audrey Hepburn films, Angela?'
'Oh, I love them!' Angela's face broke into a beaming smile. 'Especially...'
'Especially 'Roman Holiday''. Jane grimaced, with a look at Maura that said she would be paying later for bringing this up.
'Yes, and 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. I just love her in that, so elegant and refined!'
Maura almost laughed as she remembered the cocktails from the previous evening. No wonder Jane hadn't wanted a White Angel.
'Well, Audrey Hepburn wasn't the only one'. She paused. 'Coco Chanel came here too'.
It was impossible to miss Jane's delighted smirk, and Maura knew that she was thinking about the other Coco. She decided against mentioning that the tortoise had, like her famous namesake, patronised Angelina's...via the occasional takeout strawberry tart. It had become their own little tradition - Maura would eat the tart, Coco would eat the strawberry on top. And, despite the fact that she sold almost exactly the same thing herself, there was something about getting it from Angelina's that made it seem like a proper treat.
The tortoise certainly thought so, anyway.
'Well, I guess Angelina Rumpel-whatsit must have liked marble'. Jane straightened up, and peered over her mother's shoulder at the menu. 'And glass. It's like one of those fairground hall of mirror places in here'.
'Oh, stop it, Janie'. Angela slapped her daughter lightly on the arm before looking over at Maura. 'So what would you recommend, Maura?'
'Chocolat l'Africain'. Maura replied without hesitation. 'With a side of whipped cream'.
Jane looked over at her, eyebrows raised.
'Are you trying to send me back to Boston a whole dress size bigger than when I arrived?'
Maura took a deep breath. Could she risk a little flirting?
She couldn't resist it.
'Oh, you'll thank me for it later'. Her voice was a deliberate purr, and she saw Jane's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It was enough, and she made sure that she allowed Jane to see a glimpse of her satisfied smile before she turned around to locate a waiter.
Angela, fortunately, seemed oblivious.
As they waited for their order to arrive, Maura let Jane and Angela settle into their own conversation, and allowed her mind to wander. The happy buzz that had settled in her stomach after they had left Notre-Dame seemed to grow and spread a little as she recalled, word for word, the conversation with Jane. She had never laid herself on the line like that before. And she had been so terrified that Jane wouldn't want her, wouldn't want the same thing that she did...although she couldn't have blamed her if she hadn't. They had known each other for precisely two days. It shouldn't have been long enough to be talking about anything more than having a good time while they could.
But Maura knew that, if Jane had lived closer, there would have been no question about the good time developing into something more. When Jane had said that she wanted more as well, despite the distance...Maura had hardly been able to contain her delight, and relief, and gratitude that Jane was willing to give her a chance under less than ideal circumstances.
She had no idea why Jane had chosen to risk it. She also had no real idea why Jane wanted her as much as she seemed to. And just as she was starting to wonder how she could ask without making it seem like she was fishing for compliments, she was interrupted by the arrival of three chocolats with two sides of whipped cream.
That was the end of her thoughts on her relationship with Jane - whatever that relationship was. It was also the end of Jane and Angela's playful bickering. The table descended into a kind of reverent silence as all three of them contemplated the chocolate, and, finally, Jane raised her eyes to Maura's.
'Looks like you might be right'.
I will be thanking you later.
As an exercise in seduction by hot chocolate, Maura thought, it was pretty good - except that, soon, she wasn't sure who was seducing whom. As the rich, velvety chocolate, so thick that it almost needed a spoon, slipped down, she saw Jane's eyes become darker and darker, and heard the odd moan of pleasure escape her lips - moans which Maura couldn't help imagining hearing in a very different setting. A jolt of heat hit her stomach that had nothing to do with the warm drink, and, as she purposefully lingered over a mouthful of whipped cream, the knowledge that those dark eyes were resting on her mouth sent a throbbing sensation right down to her core.
'Oh wow'.
Maura gave a small start. She had almost forgotten that Angela was there.
'No wonder Audrey Hepburn came here. Did she have these too?'
'I, uh...' Maura tried to ignore Jane, who was busy licking thick chocolate from her spoon. 'I would imagine so. They've been making these for a long time - it's what they're famous for'.
'How the hell did she stay so skinny?'
'Ma!' Jane's attention was finally drawn from Maura and the chocolate. 'Really?'
'Well, it's a valid question!' Angela protested, putting down her spoon. 'If I came to Paris often, I'd be having these all the time, and they'd go straight to my hips and my butt'.
Maura tried to choke down her splutter of laughter at the disbelieving look on Jane's face.
'I don't think she came here that often, and I don't think you need to worry. One won't hurt, and you have been cycling all day'.
Angela looked at her almost-empty mug. 'Good thing, too'.
As Jane and Maura finished their chocolate, the conversation continued flowing in much the same vein, but Maura was now aware of Jane's eyes on her even more acutely than before. She couldn't help wondering, as she scooped up the last of the cream...Jane had left the previous evening because she hadn't wanted to take advantage. She hadn't wanted a one night stand.
But now they had established that they both wanted more than that.
So she couldn't help wondering whether Jane would do the same thing again.
She found out not long afterwards, when they finally, reluctantly, prepared to leave Angelina's. Checking her watch, Maura felt a pang of disappointment as she realised that it was now late in the afternoon. She couldn't really prolong the day any longer and besides, she thought that Angela would probably want to get back to the hotel. There would be packing to do, and Angela would more than likely want to spend the last evening of the trip with Jane. But, suddenly, Maura didn't feel ready to say goodbye. Especially not here, in Angelina's.
That would definitely not be a celebration.
'You know...' Angela looked thoughtful as she waited for her card to process - despite Maura's protestations, she had insisted on paying the bill. 'I'm really tired, and I have a lot of packing to do, but you don't seem to have that much, Janie'.
'Yeah, that's because I didn't unpack my entire suitcase when we got here, Ma'.
'So why don't you two stay out for a bit and enjoy yourselves? I'll just head back to the hotel'.
Thank you, Angela.
Angela was looking from Jane to Maura, while Maura looked at Jane and Jane looked at Maura. Maura really hoped that Angela didn't notice the electricity that suddenly seemed to hum between them, or the way that her seemingly-innocent suggestion had taken on a much heavier meaning. And she found herself holding her breath, waiting for Jane to decide.
'Sounds good. If you, uh, don't have anything else planned?'
Maura exhaled, slowly, before realising that Jane was looking at her, and she quickly shook her head.
'You'll be ok, Ma?'
'Of course! You two go and have fun'.
And, as they got up to leave, the smile that Maura saw on Angela's face made Maura think that, perhaps, the suggestion hadn't been so innocent after all.
They emerged onto the rue Rivoli just as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the tallest buildings, and Angela looked at Jane, her eyebrows raised.
'Down that way'. Jane pointed down the street, in the direction of the Opera Bastille, and Maura realised that Angela hadn't been sure of the way back to the hotel. 'Then the third street on your left'.
Jane took her mother by the shoulders, and turned her around so that she was facing the right way.
'Ok, Ma?'
Angela nodded.
'Call me if you get lost'.
'I'm a big girl, Janie!' And, after thanking Maura profusely, gathering her into another hug, and extracting a promise to come and visit them in Boston sometime, Angela set off back to the hotel.
Without actually talking about it, or saying anything at all, Maura and Jane turned to head in the opposite direction, down towards the Jardin des Tuileries, and Maura felt Jane's hand slip into hers. The now-familiar, delicious shiver ran down her spine at the contact, and she wrapped her fingers around Jane's as she steered them through the entrance to the gardens. She wasn't entirely sure where they were going, or where they would end up, but this would do for now...and, for a while, they just wandered slowly, enjoying being with each other.
It was Jane that finally broke the silence.
'Did Audrey Hepburn really go there?'
Maura laughed. 'Yes, she did. Why, did you think I'd made it up?'
'And Coco?'
Despite her earlier vow never to tell Jane about the tortoise's predilection for glazed strawberries, Maura found herself smirking. 'What, the Coco or my Coco?'
'The Coco...Oh God', Jane groaned. 'Please tell me you haven't taken the turtle for hot chocolate'.
'Tortoise. Not turtle. And no, not exactly...but I may have taken Angelina's to her occasionally'.
'Ah, Maura!'
'What?' Maura tried to look defensive, but was also trying not to laugh at the look on Jane's face. 'She likes the strawberries off the top of the strawberry tarts! And I like the tart bit of the tarts. It's good for both of us'.
Jane shook her head in mock despair.
'If you say so'.
'So, what would you like to do?' Maura felt the butterflies in her stomach as she finally asked the question, and wasn't sure why she was suddenly so shaky. Maybe it was all the sugar from the chocolate and cream that was starting to hit. Maybe it was Jane's hand in hers that was giving her an adrenaline rush. Or maybe it was the other woman's close proximity, walking so close to Maura that their arms were brushing. 'We could go to one of the museums and then find somewhere to eat, or...'
'I was wondering if...'Jane paused, and Maura could sense her apprehension. 'If we could go back to your place. Maybe get something to eat there later, talk for a bit...and I should probably get to know Coco a bit better. I've never met a tart-eating tortoise before'.
And there, in amongst the nervous rambling, was her answer. Suddenly, Maura felt breathless. Her heart was hammering so loudly that she was sure Jane had to be able to hear it, and, despite the recent hot chocolate, her mouth felt so dry that she could barely speak.
'Jane, I...' She stopped walking, unable to continue putting one foot in front of the other, and not really caring that everything she was feeling was written all over her face - she never had been much good at hiding her emotions. Elation, anticipation, excitement. Fear. Worry that it wouldn't turn out to be what Jane wanted, or that she would be disappointed, or that if they did end up in bed together it would make things horribly awkward, or...
'You...?'
The tentative prompt snapped Maura out of her sudden paralysis, and, seeing that Jane now had that same look of vague panic that she had worn when she had first seen Angelina's, she gave herself a mental shake. Now was not the time for any kind of second guessing. She wanted this. More than anything, she wanted Jane. And Jane wanted her. That was all that mattered. And it didn't have to be anything more than a fun evening in with a film and Coco.
Smiling, she squeezed Jane's hand.
'I thought you would never ask'.
A/N - Yes, there is a change of rating coming up, but don't get too excited ;). Once again, I'm just playing on the safe side...
