*7*

He was sitting at her table, his look unamused on his face with her answer. Brie didn't know what else to say to the man; she didn't know him well enough to drop that bomb on him but it could chase him away and she wouldn't have to worry about this little game.

"Tu as l'air sérieux." she spoke, breaking the silence.

"I don't fully believe you." he said, not moving or batting an eye, "Your mouth say one thing yet your eyes say another. So I'll ask again, what is wrong?"

Brie stared at him, he reminded her of Matt when she wouldn't give a direct answer. "It's too much of a hassle to involve you in, so don't worry about it."

"Is someone harassing you? Attempt to hurt you? Do you feel safe here or just walking the street?" he bombarded at her.

"As I said it isn't your concern and not your hassle, it's mine. Leave it at that." she said turning away from the man.

His fingers wrapped around her arm, anger coursed through her veins. How dare he grab her like that. Just as she was going to speak, her hair was lifted from her neck.

"Mon Dieu, que t'est-il arrivé ?" He practically demanded.

Brie just stood there, unsure of how to explain her phenomenon to him, a stranger still in her case. She could barely explain it herself.

"I caught myself with the cupboard last night. Don't worry over that. I'm quite a klutz." she lied.

Maybe it was best to keep him away from the nightmare for now, "And the nightmare is my parent's accident. It still hurts."

Next she knew, her face was pressed against his solid chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively and comforting, one hand petting her hair as the other rubbed her back. Brie was taken aback by his actions yet it felt good.

"Je suis désolé, ma petit souris." he whispered against her hair, "The passing of loved ones is always hard. I know how it is. I'm so sorry.

She just stood there as he held her, her mind was a mix of questions and emotions, unsure of how to let them out. Her throat began to grow tight, her eyes burned slightly, and her breath shook. No, she refused to cry on him, she refused to cry period, not over people she barely knew about in those last couple of years. She didn't realize that her hands had clutched his shirt in a death grip, her body having slight quivers as she held everything back.

"There's no reason for you to be so strong Brie, let it go." he whispered to her.

Those words echoed in her head as she pulled him closer and buried her face into his chest, the nightmares flashed before her eyes once more and she saw him again. His eyes giving her the only amount of hope and love that she could ever need. The salty droplets fell down her cheeks and landed on his pristine white shirt, her breath became more ragged as she let the tears fall, Francis began to rock her back and forth as she cried on his chest.

She sniffled against her crying and the warm comforting scent once again filled her. It donned on her, it was him. That red rose and wine smell was him the whole time, how she just wanted to bury herself into that luxurious scent and never leave it.

"Do I smell good?" he chuckled.

"Shut it." she replied, her face never leaving his chest.

"Ah petite souris, as much as I'd love to hold you all day, which I do plan to do one of these days for this challenge, but I have to woo you today." he said as he continued to rock her.

Brie gave a defeated sigh and pulled away from Francis, "You're right. Désolé."

"For what?" he asked.

"For staining and wrinkling your shirt, for being a damn mess this morning, and forgetting about today." she mumbled out.

"There's no need to be sorry, I told you to let out. It's not good for you to keep it in like that." he said as he walked to her kitchen.

"What are you doing Francis?" she asked.

"As I said, I'm wooing you." he said looking in her fridge, "I thought of taking you out but after that I think it is best to just let you relax at home and not stress yourself."

She watched him as he gracefully moved around her kitchen, grabbing pots and pans, vegetables and more. Brie was quite awed with him, he never uttered a word as he went straight to work in the small kitchen. It wasn't long until the little flat smelled like a five-star restaurant.

"A French traditional, voila!" he said setting the bowl before her.

Brie looked at the dish, it didn't look familiar in any way from what she could remember but it did look and smell good.

"What is it?" Brie asked.

Francis chuckled, "I don't how the west does it but here in France, this is how onion soup is made here."

Wait, French onion soup? It was one of her favorite school meals, but it never looked like this. Shrugging her shoulders, she grabbed the spoon and took a small bite.

"Mon dieu, this is amazing!" She exclaimed as the cheese practically melted in her mouth and the onions exploded with flavor.

"Bon, non?" Francis asked as she devoured the bowl.

"Oui, délicieux." Brie said pushing aside the now empty bowl.

"I thought you said you owned a restaurant, not cooked in it?" She asked, watching as he enjoyed his work as well.

"I do, time to time I am behind the stove, bringing smiles and full bellies." He said pointing his spoon at her.

Brie smiled at him. She felt like she ate for a week with just that little bit. It was like eating Mattie's pancakes and Alfred's burgers. No one used to get close to filling her up like those two, now she could add Francis to that list. She realized the smile that grew upon her face, he was really getting to her and she was failing her own challenge.

"Lost in that little whimsical world of yours?" Francis asked, breaking her I her world.

"Not really, just seeing what else you may have up your sleeve." She stated.

"Oh I did have a good day planned but as I now I think I'll leave that for tomorrow. As of now I have a better idea." He said as he took her dirty dishes and began to wash them, "Why don't you find a book and go in on the sofa for a moment, I'll be right there once I finish this up."

Brie didn't know what he was thinking, but didn't argue with him. She grabbed one of her favorite French novels and plopped herself on the white cushions.

"You didn't say what you were doing Francis?" She said from her spot.

She heard him chuckle as the water stopped running, "That's because I did not say."

A moment later he sat down beside her taking the book from her hands.

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame? Still enjoying children's books?" He poked at her.

Brie sighed, "It's an easy French story for me, alright. You still haven't explained yourself."

"Can't you tell?" He said. "Don't tell me maman and papa didn't read you to bed?"

Brie's heart shrank a little, she really couldn't remember them reading to her when she was young, they were more preoccupied with business and finding a cure for the nightmare.

"Oh merde, désolé Brie." He said collecting himself.

"Non, non it's fine. I just don't remember much of my childhood." She assured him.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Positive." She said smiling at him, "So what do you want me to do?"

Francis gave a small smile as he lifted his right arm up to her, she just sat there staring at him.

"I don't bite, Brie, come now." He laughed at her.

"You're still a stranger mostly, how do I know that?" She said.

"By now a stranger would've left or made more of a move, I have not done either." Francis stated.

He had a point. Cautiously she placed herself against him, her head gently laying on his chest as her hands clutched her arms tightly.

"You can relax, ma petite souris." He said letting his arm lay across her shoulder and arm.

"I am." She stated, "and why do you keep calling me little mouse?"

Francis laughed, "You are small and cute like a little mouse. So it suits you. Why, do you not like it?"

"Not a mouse person and I do find it a little weird as well." she replied.

"Then what is your favorite little animal?" he asked.

"I'm a cat person." she said, "So are you going to read or what?"

Francis chuckled at her, "So pushy, petit chaton."

Brie sighed against him as he opened up the book and read the whimsical words in his beautiful native tongue. She was unsure of what to think of him at this time but for the moment, she was quite content with him being like this. She felt her body become more relaxed and her eyes became heavy, this time, she didn't fight the urge to sleep.

Not fifteen minutes into the book, Francis heard Brie's steady breathing and her body fully relaxed against him. Laying the book down, he stroked her brunette tresses from her face and watched her sleep.

"Ce qu'un ange." he whispered.

Carefully, he rose to his feet and gathered her in his arms. Gently taking her to her bedroom and laying her within its sheets. As he tucked her in, he placed a small kiss to her head, "Fais de beaux rêves."

Closing the door, he grabbed a pen and paper, writing her a sweet note to wake to. The tone of his phone went off as he finished.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Bonjour papa." a feminine voice rang out, bringing a smile to his face.

"Michelle," he replied to his young one he raised, "How are you?"

"Ok." she said quickly and quietly, not the tone he wanted to hear.

"What's the matter ma fille? Did something happen? Did a boy hurt you? I swear if any man-" he began.

"No, no! No, not that papa. I know better." she cut him off, "However, there is something I must tell you."

Francis was silent, her voice seemed far off and almost like a warning to him, "Alright, what is it?"

"I just got off the phone with Allister." she said.

He paused as he closed Brie's door, making sure it was locked. "Okay?"

"He saw William." she replied.

He stumbled backwards, William Wallace was now a part of the world. So now two past lives were before them.

"Papa?" Michelle called.

"Oui, I'm here." he reassured her, "Any others?"

"As of now the Asian nations thing Yao saw Wu and now it's a definite for Allister." she replied.

"And Ivan?"

"Two guesses from Natalia, either Anastasia or Rasputin. They are hoping it's Ana but with how he's acting they think it's him." she finished.

"Mon Dieu." he rubbed his face as he made his way out of her building. "Ok, I'll keep track of everything on my end. For now, nothing has come up, call your brother and let him know as well."

"Oui papa, I will. Je t'aime." she said.

"Je t'aime ma fille." He replied.

He stood there on the sidewalk wondering what he should do, praying she wasn't around at all, although life was known to screw with him here and there rough. Slowly his feet made their way to his favorite spot of his nation, the icon of France.

Sweat poured from her brow as the chants of death plagued her again as Brie bolted upright from her bed. They echoed in her head, as her body ached, and trembled from the nightmare. She looked around trying to gather herself from the moment, it donned on her that she was in her bedroom. Brie quickly jumped out of the bed and saw she was still clothed, her hands trembled as she touched her limbs, chest, and stomach. Those memories flooded in like a busted dam, how she wished she never met that bastard.

Making her way to the kitchen, she saw she was totally alone. The book laid on the arm of the chair, exactly where he must've stopped reading to her. Her kitchen was clean and nothing was out of place as she checked her hiding places for her valuables. Brie was still shaken from the nightmare, as she tried to process what all happened when she was alone with him. Her eyes saw a small piece of folded paper on her countertop; gently unfolding it, she smiled and relaxed at his words.

Not all flowers bloom when it is proper, they bloom when they are ready. Like a rose, they may have thorns, but everyone sees its beauty. You may be shy and have scars that some cannot see, yet you are still beautiful to me.

My dear Brie, please forgive my absence from your side. I wished to stay but thought that it was still soon for anything like that. I did not want to think that you were abandoned by me, I promise to see you tomorrow and do as I planned for today. If you ever need me for anything, and I mean anything, I am just a call away. XXX-XXX-XXXX.

Francis.

Her smile grew as she read it over and over again. He really wasn't like the other guys she had in her past. Brie walked to her window and saw the beautiful tower in the distance. Her fears with this game were there but not as strong as before. Maybe he wasn't as bad as she first thought. Maybe, just maybe, he could help her out.