~*~Chapter 14~ Mirror Image~*~
"I have a question" said Two as they drove through the streets of Paris.
"What?" replied One
"Where are we going to sleep tonight?"
"I'm working on that" said One
"You mean you don't know" sighed Two
"No, I mean I'm working on it" snapped One.
Two clicked his tongue impatiently and sat back in his chair. When his brother was stressed, it was best not to cross him. When his brother was stressed and tired, it was best to not even speak. They went through hotel after hotel yet none of them had a room free. Two was beginning to formulate a plan for hogging the back seat and blanket when they turned a corner into a street they hadn't yet explored.
"Bingo!" came One's voice, bringing Two back to reality with a bump.
"What?"
"There's a nice looking hotel just there."
"And?"
"I have a good feeling about it
"Funny. That's what you said about 'Le Cynge', ' La Royal', 'Wayside Hotel' and ' Le Metropolitan' But this time I'm sure you'll be right" said Two sarcastically.
"At least I'm trying to find somewhere" snapped One and stalked off to reception.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Never question my instinct, dear brother" said One smugly as he poured himself his third glass of whisky.
"I shall not" said Two "At least until the next cock-up occurs!"
"Excuse me? Who found this place?"
"You"
"Who booked us in?"
"You"
"And who-"
"Who had to kiss the receptionist before she would give us the key?" glared Two.
One shrugged.
"Someone had to do it."
"She was ancient!"
"Yeah well, you got off lightly. I was starting to think you might have to kiss the room-service man."
"That's disgusting!" cried Two in outrage. "Why?"
"Well, I didn't have any money for a tip so I decided I would auction you off instead should I be forced to."
"I think I'd prefer your job" said Two with a raised eyebrow.
"Hard luck. Retirement is not on my to-do list" grinned One
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and by the time the twins emptied the last bottle of whisky the eleven o clock news was just finishing. Two yawned widely as the weather reporter was gesturing at the south.
"What about her?" One nudged Two in the ribs.
"What are you on about?"
"The weather-girl. French women are supposed to be the most romantic in the world."
"And?" Two shot his brother a look of pure confusion.
"Well, what do you think of her?"
Two yawned again "She's alright, I suppose."
"She's more than alright" grinned One
"Well, I'm sorry to spoil your fun but I am going to bed. So that will have to be turned off" said Two as he yawned again.
"Spoilsport" murmured One
"I heard that."
Two grabbed the remote from his twin and switched the TV off. He then proceeded over to the bed by the window and shut the curtains. He pulled his coat off and folded it neatly on the wicker chair beside him.
The rest of the clothes quickly followed. He slid his shirt smoothly off his back, exposing perfect silver skin to the warm beams of the bedside lights. The glow of the lamps enhanced the outlines of his muscular physique and cast a golden sheen over his silver dreadlocks.
His legs too were smooth and unblemished, and his trousers flowed like water down them until they rested in ripples at his ankles. Climbing into bed he reached over and turned out his light. The only light now in the room was One's.
"Aren't you getting undressed?" asked Two.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"I'm thinking."
Two glanced over at his brother. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?" questioned Two.
"The girl"
"Oh get over it. She's only a weather reporter!"
"No. I mean Estelle."
"Oh" said Two in surprise, propping himself up on an elbow "What's bothering you?"
"Why do we keep slipping up?" said One "She just slips through our fingers like water, everytime we get close. We've never had this problem before, not to this extent. She's just a girl, Two. Just a young, defenceless girl. I just don't see how this happened."
"Is that all that's bothering you?" Two resisted the urge to grin "So she's playing hard to get. So what? Why does it matter?"
"It's not just that" sighed One.
"Well what then?" asked Two curiously
"She is like us, what we used to be."
"What do you mean?" Two was getting more confused by the second.
"I see my life, our lives with the Merovingian mirrored in hers. I think that's why this happened. That's why I can't bring myself to kill her. Don't you see Two? She is too much like us."
"I have a question" said Two as they drove through the streets of Paris.
"What?" replied One
"Where are we going to sleep tonight?"
"I'm working on that" said One
"You mean you don't know" sighed Two
"No, I mean I'm working on it" snapped One.
Two clicked his tongue impatiently and sat back in his chair. When his brother was stressed, it was best not to cross him. When his brother was stressed and tired, it was best to not even speak. They went through hotel after hotel yet none of them had a room free. Two was beginning to formulate a plan for hogging the back seat and blanket when they turned a corner into a street they hadn't yet explored.
"Bingo!" came One's voice, bringing Two back to reality with a bump.
"What?"
"There's a nice looking hotel just there."
"And?"
"I have a good feeling about it
"Funny. That's what you said about 'Le Cynge', ' La Royal', 'Wayside Hotel' and ' Le Metropolitan' But this time I'm sure you'll be right" said Two sarcastically.
"At least I'm trying to find somewhere" snapped One and stalked off to reception.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Never question my instinct, dear brother" said One smugly as he poured himself his third glass of whisky.
"I shall not" said Two "At least until the next cock-up occurs!"
"Excuse me? Who found this place?"
"You"
"Who booked us in?"
"You"
"And who-"
"Who had to kiss the receptionist before she would give us the key?" glared Two.
One shrugged.
"Someone had to do it."
"She was ancient!"
"Yeah well, you got off lightly. I was starting to think you might have to kiss the room-service man."
"That's disgusting!" cried Two in outrage. "Why?"
"Well, I didn't have any money for a tip so I decided I would auction you off instead should I be forced to."
"I think I'd prefer your job" said Two with a raised eyebrow.
"Hard luck. Retirement is not on my to-do list" grinned One
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and by the time the twins emptied the last bottle of whisky the eleven o clock news was just finishing. Two yawned widely as the weather reporter was gesturing at the south.
"What about her?" One nudged Two in the ribs.
"What are you on about?"
"The weather-girl. French women are supposed to be the most romantic in the world."
"And?" Two shot his brother a look of pure confusion.
"Well, what do you think of her?"
Two yawned again "She's alright, I suppose."
"She's more than alright" grinned One
"Well, I'm sorry to spoil your fun but I am going to bed. So that will have to be turned off" said Two as he yawned again.
"Spoilsport" murmured One
"I heard that."
Two grabbed the remote from his twin and switched the TV off. He then proceeded over to the bed by the window and shut the curtains. He pulled his coat off and folded it neatly on the wicker chair beside him.
The rest of the clothes quickly followed. He slid his shirt smoothly off his back, exposing perfect silver skin to the warm beams of the bedside lights. The glow of the lamps enhanced the outlines of his muscular physique and cast a golden sheen over his silver dreadlocks.
His legs too were smooth and unblemished, and his trousers flowed like water down them until they rested in ripples at his ankles. Climbing into bed he reached over and turned out his light. The only light now in the room was One's.
"Aren't you getting undressed?" asked Two.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"I'm thinking."
Two glanced over at his brother. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?" questioned Two.
"The girl"
"Oh get over it. She's only a weather reporter!"
"No. I mean Estelle."
"Oh" said Two in surprise, propping himself up on an elbow "What's bothering you?"
"Why do we keep slipping up?" said One "She just slips through our fingers like water, everytime we get close. We've never had this problem before, not to this extent. She's just a girl, Two. Just a young, defenceless girl. I just don't see how this happened."
"Is that all that's bothering you?" Two resisted the urge to grin "So she's playing hard to get. So what? Why does it matter?"
"It's not just that" sighed One.
"Well what then?" asked Two curiously
"She is like us, what we used to be."
"What do you mean?" Two was getting more confused by the second.
"I see my life, our lives with the Merovingian mirrored in hers. I think that's why this happened. That's why I can't bring myself to kill her. Don't you see Two? She is too much like us."