Happy Winter Solstice, everyone! Today is officially the longest, darkest day of the year. It is also the day of the promised story of the French cart. Speaking of that, I really don't mean to offend any French people by the title, for two reasons: a) the French, while they are admittedly very frightening drivers, are very nice people, and b) I'm quoting the Da Vinci Code movie.

I'd like to thank zagara and MrsCuddles for all the lovely reviews; you two are making my day(s)!

Okay, um...poor Geoff. That's all I'm going to say.

Disclaimer: I don't own AKT, or The Da Vinci Code.

Philippa was the one that had suggested they go to the market, but that didn't mean that Geoff couldn't be excited. On the contrary: he was striding ahead of her with a bright smile on his thin, sharp face, his long legs eating up the ground. She had to jog to keep up, wondering where on Earth her husband found all of his energy.

"Dépėche-toi!" Geoff called cheerfully, turning his head to grin at her. "J'ai pas toute la journée, et c'etai ton idée, enfin."

"Casse-toi!" Philippa shot back, hurrying forward to slap his lean arm. "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't got your legs!"

"Then perhaps I ought to carry you, ma fleur," he replied glibly, with an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Je ne suis pas sûre d'aimer ça idée, monsieur," she murmured coyly, sneaking past him with a not-so-subtle roll of her hips. "I'm not the...helpless sort."

"No." Geoff's low voice became husky, a seductive purr. "Tu es tout sauf, mon ange." And he spun into her with leonine grace, tangling his long musician's fingers into her dark hair and pulling her into a passionate baiser.

X X X

It was a long walk to the market, and a tedious one at that, despite the chaotic bustle of Parisian life that filled the streets. Perhaps it was this liveliness that led Geoff to keep bolting off, running ahead for a while before doubling sheepishly back to Philippa and resuming their conversation as though nothing had happened. Philippa laughed riotously at his antics, caring not a whit for either propriety or the strange looks that they were receiving. This was just their way: he was a boisterous, reckless soul, and she, possessing a similar spirit, didn't mind at all.

He was away from her now, in fact, staring at the dark spires of a distant cathedral with all the fascination of a young child.

"Ralentis!" she shouted, fond exasperation coloring her tone. "Pour l'amour du ciel, you'll get run over, standing there like that!"

X X X

The cart came out of nowhere. In one moment, Geoff was standing alone in the narrow intersection; in the next, a wagon, laden with melons and lettuces, driven at a gallop by four powerful horses, came swinging out of a side tunnel. The two beasts at the front barreled headlong into the lanky figure in the road, and suddenly he was down, gone, felled like some waifish tree, prone and crushed beneath the towering animals.

Philippa was numb; her vision blurred, and her ears roared deafeningly. Her eyes grew hot, her throat tight, and only one thought was able to make itself clear- painfully, devastating clear- in the turmoil of her mind. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

"Arrêt! Halte, bêtes stupides!" The horses skidded to a stop, and the peddler leaped from the wagon seat, staring at Geoff's crumpled form in shock.

"NON!" Philippa surged forward with a stuttering sort of speed, flinging herself to the ground, grabbing for her husband's hand. "À l'aide!" she shouted, enraged tears warbling her voice. "À l'aide, s'il vous plait! N'importe qui!"

"Madame…." The wagoneer stepped toward her hesitantly, twisting his patched cap in his corded hands. "Je suis très, très désolée, mais-"

"Pouvez-vous m'aider, s'il vous plait?" she asked, feeling desperately for the flutter of a pulse at Geoff's neck. Please, let it be there; let him live yet, please God, please….

There! It was weak, uneven, but it was a pulse: the beating of her love's heart was not extinguished; he was not yet departed from her! Dieu merci; merci, merci, merci….

"Je besoin d'un médecin," she murmured, hoping that the wagoneer would hear. To her utter relief, he did, and ran off down a street, calling for a "docteur, docteur, il y a un homme blessé dans la rue!"

Philippa tightened her grip on her husband's hand, feeling his pulse with a feverish need, praying and praying that he would survive, and somehow knowing that he would. His role in the play of the world was not through. Not yet.

That was way more angsty and intense than I'd planned, but it was really fun. I really love the passion and jovial ease between Philippa and Geoff, and I had a lot of fun writing that bit of flirtation at the beginning. They call French the language of love for a reason, folks.

On that note, Philippa de Roet actually is French, and Geoff speaks it...and considering that this takes place in France, I had to use a lot of French...yeah, I MAYBE went a little overboard. I hope all the translations are accurate, so, with that in mind….

Translation time!

Dépėche-toi: French for 'hurry up'

J'ai pas toute la journée: French for 'I haven't got all day'

Et: French for 'and'

C'etai ton idée: French for 'it was your idea'

Enfin: French for 'anyway'

Casse-toi: French for 'piss off' or f**k off'

Ma fleur: French for 'my flower'

Je ne suis pas sûre d'aimer ça idée: French for 'I'm not sure I like that idea'

Monsieur: French for 'mister' or 'sir'

Tu es tout sauf: French for 'you're anything but'

Mon ange: French for 'my angel'

Baiser: French for 'kiss'

Ralentis: French for 'slow down'

Pour l'amour du ciel: French for 'for Heaven's sake:' literally, 'for the love of the sky'

Arrêt: French for 'stop'

Halte: French for 'halt'

Bêtes stupides: French for 'stupid beasts'

Non: French for 'no'

À l'aide: French for 'help!'

S'il vous plait: French for 'please:' literally, 'if you please'

N'importe qui: French for 'anybody'

Madame: French for 'Mrs.'

Je suis très, très désolée: French for 'I am very, very sorry'

Mais: French for 'but'

Pouvez-vous m'aider: French for 'can you help me?'

Dieu merci: French for 'thank God'

Merci: French for 'thank you'

Je besoin d'un médecin: French for 'I need a physician'

Docteur: French for 'doctor'

Il y a un homme blessé dans la rue: French for 'there is an injured man in the street'

Dang. That was long. Oh yeah. Um...so, market days were traditions that were popular all throughout the Middle Ages, and still continue all over the world today. Usually they would be held on Sundays, and everyone would go out to buy food and socialize. Market fairs went on for weeks. Peddlers would make a living by traveling from one market to the next.

On the subject of travel, medieval roads were notoriously narrow, and often lightless, since the second stories of the houses jutted over them. Some well-traveled roads were paved, as were most city roads, but many weren't. Horses and carts were not common methods of travel, used only to transport food and such.

Okay, so...yeah, I'm out. See you tomorrow, and remember to review!