Author's Note: I do not know the time length to travel by train from Paris
to Geneva. I do know it takes roughly fourteen hours to travel from Paris
to Rome, however. I am basing my time on that.
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December 22, 2005, 430 AM, a train en route to Geneva, Switzerland
Richie and Asher awoke before dawn the following morning. Stumbling through the motions of shower, dress, and breakfast, it was only an hour before they stumbled through the door. It had been agreed they would take a taxicab to the train station.
"Tell me again, just why we are up before the sun?" mumbled Richie, once they had given the driver the address of their destination.
"Long ride." Asher's voice, also, was still thick with sleep.
Arriving at the train station, having had to stand in a short line to buy their tickets, they now had a half-hour before the train left. "I'm going to find some coffee," Richie announced. "Want anything?" To which, Asher shook her head.
When the train finally pulled into the station, the two young Immortal lovebirds stumbled aboard, and found an empty compartment, with two benches, (changing into beds for the overnight rides), and a small table in the middle. Mumbling something incoherent under her breath, Asher curled in the corner of the left bench, and fell into sleep. "You always sleep in the corners, don't you?" murmured Richie.
The train pulled away from the station, and Richie sat on the bench, a hand resting over Asher's hair. She sighed under the touch, shifting her weight, so her head now rested in his lap. He smiled, rested his own head against the back of the bench, falling into his own sleep.
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Some time later, (not sure of mere minutes or hours had passed), Richie awoke to the sound of the door opening. "Oh, my humble apologies," came a male voice. "I had hoped this compartment would have been empty. Train's full, you know."
"You could join us."
"Bless you, young man." And the man, whom Richie could see now was well into his seventies, settled himself in the empty bench. "The name's Frank Reilly. Traveling to Geneva for a business trip."
"Richie Ryan. Same destination, different purpose."
"Honeymoon?" winked Frank knowingly. "How long have you and Miss Sleeping Beauty been married?"
"Oh, we're no-" Richie quickly changed his tactic. "Six months. We're off to spend Christmas with her folks. They're to meet us at the station. Slightly-overexcited, as we have not seen them since the wedding."
"I know all about in-laws, Richie. I've been married twice myself. And God rest both their souls, but I always had foul luck with the parents. First set always out to prove I had a criminal record, and the second set always out to prove I had too much money. Suppose only the second set was right, but every cent was honestly earned." He paused, smiled again. "So, how did you meet? Me, my first wife was my high school sweetheart, and my second I met on a plane en route to Las Vegas."
"We just sort of ran into one another one day. She walked into the bar I work at."
"A romantic setting. If I may give you some advice, Richie?"
"I am all ears."
"Keep hold to her for as long as you can. Forever is never as long as we would like it to be."
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When, eleven hours later, Richie, and a now more awake Asher, disembarked the train, with plans to rent a car, to take them to the house they sought, neither noticed an elderly man escape into the shadows, where he made a phone call from a cell phone.
December 22, 2005, 430 AM, a train en route to Geneva, Switzerland
Richie and Asher awoke before dawn the following morning. Stumbling through the motions of shower, dress, and breakfast, it was only an hour before they stumbled through the door. It had been agreed they would take a taxicab to the train station.
"Tell me again, just why we are up before the sun?" mumbled Richie, once they had given the driver the address of their destination.
"Long ride." Asher's voice, also, was still thick with sleep.
Arriving at the train station, having had to stand in a short line to buy their tickets, they now had a half-hour before the train left. "I'm going to find some coffee," Richie announced. "Want anything?" To which, Asher shook her head.
When the train finally pulled into the station, the two young Immortal lovebirds stumbled aboard, and found an empty compartment, with two benches, (changing into beds for the overnight rides), and a small table in the middle. Mumbling something incoherent under her breath, Asher curled in the corner of the left bench, and fell into sleep. "You always sleep in the corners, don't you?" murmured Richie.
The train pulled away from the station, and Richie sat on the bench, a hand resting over Asher's hair. She sighed under the touch, shifting her weight, so her head now rested in his lap. He smiled, rested his own head against the back of the bench, falling into his own sleep.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------------
Some time later, (not sure of mere minutes or hours had passed), Richie awoke to the sound of the door opening. "Oh, my humble apologies," came a male voice. "I had hoped this compartment would have been empty. Train's full, you know."
"You could join us."
"Bless you, young man." And the man, whom Richie could see now was well into his seventies, settled himself in the empty bench. "The name's Frank Reilly. Traveling to Geneva for a business trip."
"Richie Ryan. Same destination, different purpose."
"Honeymoon?" winked Frank knowingly. "How long have you and Miss Sleeping Beauty been married?"
"Oh, we're no-" Richie quickly changed his tactic. "Six months. We're off to spend Christmas with her folks. They're to meet us at the station. Slightly-overexcited, as we have not seen them since the wedding."
"I know all about in-laws, Richie. I've been married twice myself. And God rest both their souls, but I always had foul luck with the parents. First set always out to prove I had a criminal record, and the second set always out to prove I had too much money. Suppose only the second set was right, but every cent was honestly earned." He paused, smiled again. "So, how did you meet? Me, my first wife was my high school sweetheart, and my second I met on a plane en route to Las Vegas."
"We just sort of ran into one another one day. She walked into the bar I work at."
"A romantic setting. If I may give you some advice, Richie?"
"I am all ears."
"Keep hold to her for as long as you can. Forever is never as long as we would like it to be."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------------------
When, eleven hours later, Richie, and a now more awake Asher, disembarked the train, with plans to rent a car, to take them to the house they sought, neither noticed an elderly man escape into the shadows, where he made a phone call from a cell phone.