Chapter 16~ Citron Bleu
"Citron Bleu?" said Two slightly puzzled.
"That's what the card says" replied One, looking down at the tiny business card Luc had given them.
"He sent us to a nightclub? How are we supposed to even speak to anyone in here, let alone find out where the girl is?"
"He must know someone or he wouldn't have given us this" said One, gesturing at the card.
"Alright but remember what we agreed. If this goes pear-shaped, we find him and give our blades some exercise!"
"Yes. I know." One nodded "Come on then."
Citron Bleu. The nightclub and bar that the Parisians fell back on when everywhere else was full. Although some after a few drinks elsewhere, some would fall back on the cheaper bar. Literally.
They made their way over to the bar, always keeping an eye open for anyone that looked remotely Mero-employed.
"Hello boys. What can I get you?"
A voice sounded from the other side of the bar and the twins looked up. A curvy sort of woman in a blue mini-skirt and a black top looked inquiringly at them.
"You speak English?"
"Yeah. I am English. Moved over here about a year ago. You get all sorts in here. Tourists mainly, but the locals do pop in from time to time. Course I knew you two were English right from the moment you walked through that door."
"How?" asked Two
"How could you not be? Only the English brush up so nicely for a night on the town." She ran her eyes up and down One's silver trenchcoat and shirt. "Yes indeed. Very nice."
"You don't look too bad yourself" One purred
Two coughed smartly. "Just two vodkas then."
"No problem." The woman winked and disappeared the other side of the bar.
Two raised an eyebrow. "You just can't help yourself can you?"
"What?" One looked decidedly smug.
"You flirt too much, that's your trouble."
"Can I help it if women find me irresistible?" One lowered his sunglasses slightly and grinned at Two who suddenly looked quite disturbed.
"Don't look at me like that"
"Why?"
"Just-Just don't."
"Fine" One pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and turned away from Two.
Two looked over his brother's shoulder.
"Typical" he said telepathically "Completely typical!" One was currently engaged in light conversation with a young American brunette in a red dress.
"Hey. It's not my fault I was created with such exquisite features!" came the telepathic reply.
Now all hope of intelligent conversation had evaporated, Two decided to examine the back of a matchbox. You never quite knew what interesting vocabulary you could pick up off a foreign matchbox. Suddenly he grinned and tapped his brother on the shoulder.
"What?"
"Hold that" Two handed his brother an ashtray. Two grinned at One's confused expression.
"Now walk over to that man in the corner, smoking, tap him on the shoulder and hand him the ashtray."
"Why?"
"It's called being a good citizen"
"But I'm not a-"
"You are for tonight. Now go on." Two leaned forward and whispered in his brother's ear. "If he takes the ashtray from you then I will set you up with that bar-maid!"
One raised an eyebrow, smirked and nodded.
"Fine."
Two leaned back against the bar, grinning from ear to ear. The American looked at Two's unusually happy face.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just watch" he replied, still smirking.
One looked inquiringly over at his brother who, he noticed, was looking too happy for his own good. Something was definitely up but he couldn't see the slightest thing wrong with handing someone an ashtray.
However, before he reached the man, the man himself turned round apparently ready to greet One. However he looked down at the glass ashtray One was carrying and leapt up with a cry. He then proceeded the shield the woman next to him and begun to shout at One in extremely fast French.
"Obtenez loin de nous ! Allez ! Pas vous touchez mon épouse ! Si vous venez n'importe quel plus étroit j'appellerai la police ! Partez ! " *
"What?" One looked over at his brother who was now laughing so hard he was holding onto the bar for support. One scowled and put the ashtray on the table. Unfortunately the woman now got hysterical and shrieked.
"Pierre! Oh Pierre!" Aidez-moi ! "
One was suddenly aware that the whole room had gone silent. Apart from the woman's screams that is. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him and some were even shaking their heads in shock.
"Two?" said One weakly "Explain what is going on."
Two made a failed attempt to hide a smirk and threw his brother the matchbox.
One read the small paragraph on the back of the small box and still looked as confused as ever.
'À Paris, un cendrier est considéré comme une arme mortelle' it said.
"What?" One looked up at his brother who promptly sighed. "Roughly translated, dear brother. It means 'In Paris an ashtray is considered to be a deadly weapon'!"
One dropped the matchbox.
"What kind of a stupid law is that?" One scowled. He walked over to his brother. "Let's go"
"Go?" Two looked mortified "But what about the drinks?"
One's lips got, if possible, even thinner.
"Right. I'm coming." Two grabbed his coat and the pair exited the bar, followed by the accusing stares of the crowd behind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You have got a deranged sense of humour, Two" One sighed.
"Thank you. Nice to know I have useful qualities"
"Don't you even care that I was just made a mockery out of?" One pouted.
"No. Not really. I mean, as you said. What kind of a law is that anyway?"
The pair stood in silence then suddenly, One began to laugh.
"An ashtray!" he smirked "Couldn't they have thought of something a bit more interesting to 'be considered a deadly weapon'!"
"Hey! Cut them some slack. You know what the Mero's like"
"Yes. He likes to keep things simple."
They continued along the thread of their boss for a while as they wandered by the banks of the Seine. Finally they came to a bench with one woman sitting there, staring out at the water.
Two bent down.
"Excusez-moi. Pourriez vous vous déplacer à votre manteau?" **
The woman looked up. Then screamed and bolted, leaving her coat behind.
"I don't believe it!" Two cried.
"Start believing it!" yelled One "Come on!"
They followed the woman down the streets, both running at the same pace with her a little way ahead of them.
"You can't say that miracles don't happen!" shouted Two to his brother.
"Just get the girl!" One yelled back.
Suddenly the woman veered off into a cobbled side street filled with cardboard boxes and other such waste from the restaurant on the left. Taking care not to skid on the damp boxes, the woman continued her plight for freedom. The twins however, kept their balance over the waste perfectly and with each stride they got a little closer.
Then just as they were almost on her the narrow street ended and came out onto a main road. She didn't stop to look for oncoming traffic. Dashing out into the road she made a last desperate bid for escape just before One could grab her. The sound of car horns filled the night air but the woman reached the other side without a scratch.
"Come on! Stop standing around!" One shouted to Two. The pair flew across the road and phased through the body of a car just before it could hit them. Once on the other side, they noticed again that the girl was several yards ahead again.
"Oh great!" One cried as the woman waved down a black car and almost fell into the back seat.
"No problem. She's just made the biggest mistake of her short life!" Two smirked at his brother. "Remember the airport?"
One nodded and stepped out into the road just as the car reached the place where he was standing. Mimicking the incident at Parisian arrivals he phased into the passenger seat receiving two responses. A shout of fright from the driver and a shriek form the woman in the back.
One looked at the man who promptly began to yell again. "Excuse me, monsieur but duty has to be performed." One took of the man's hair, pulled his head backwards and dealt a swift slice to his thin neck. Blood seeped out from the deep wound and opening the door, One shoved the man's lifeless body out into the road. He grabbed the steering wheel and regained control of the car before moving across into the driver's seat. Before doing anything else he locked the whole car with a button at the front. Doors, windows and all. The woman in the back tried frantically to get her door open but it was locked tight.
"Sit back" said One from the front "There's no way out, so you may as well enjoy the ride."
He reversed back and soon Two appeared in the second back seat next to the woman. He ran a finger down her pale cheek causing her to recoil in fear, and smirked.
"Miss Croft" he purred "We meet again."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
* = "Get away from us! Don't you touch my wife! If you come any closer I will call the police. Leave!"
** = " Excuse me. Could you move your coat?"
"Citron Bleu?" said Two slightly puzzled.
"That's what the card says" replied One, looking down at the tiny business card Luc had given them.
"He sent us to a nightclub? How are we supposed to even speak to anyone in here, let alone find out where the girl is?"
"He must know someone or he wouldn't have given us this" said One, gesturing at the card.
"Alright but remember what we agreed. If this goes pear-shaped, we find him and give our blades some exercise!"
"Yes. I know." One nodded "Come on then."
Citron Bleu. The nightclub and bar that the Parisians fell back on when everywhere else was full. Although some after a few drinks elsewhere, some would fall back on the cheaper bar. Literally.
They made their way over to the bar, always keeping an eye open for anyone that looked remotely Mero-employed.
"Hello boys. What can I get you?"
A voice sounded from the other side of the bar and the twins looked up. A curvy sort of woman in a blue mini-skirt and a black top looked inquiringly at them.
"You speak English?"
"Yeah. I am English. Moved over here about a year ago. You get all sorts in here. Tourists mainly, but the locals do pop in from time to time. Course I knew you two were English right from the moment you walked through that door."
"How?" asked Two
"How could you not be? Only the English brush up so nicely for a night on the town." She ran her eyes up and down One's silver trenchcoat and shirt. "Yes indeed. Very nice."
"You don't look too bad yourself" One purred
Two coughed smartly. "Just two vodkas then."
"No problem." The woman winked and disappeared the other side of the bar.
Two raised an eyebrow. "You just can't help yourself can you?"
"What?" One looked decidedly smug.
"You flirt too much, that's your trouble."
"Can I help it if women find me irresistible?" One lowered his sunglasses slightly and grinned at Two who suddenly looked quite disturbed.
"Don't look at me like that"
"Why?"
"Just-Just don't."
"Fine" One pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and turned away from Two.
Two looked over his brother's shoulder.
"Typical" he said telepathically "Completely typical!" One was currently engaged in light conversation with a young American brunette in a red dress.
"Hey. It's not my fault I was created with such exquisite features!" came the telepathic reply.
Now all hope of intelligent conversation had evaporated, Two decided to examine the back of a matchbox. You never quite knew what interesting vocabulary you could pick up off a foreign matchbox. Suddenly he grinned and tapped his brother on the shoulder.
"What?"
"Hold that" Two handed his brother an ashtray. Two grinned at One's confused expression.
"Now walk over to that man in the corner, smoking, tap him on the shoulder and hand him the ashtray."
"Why?"
"It's called being a good citizen"
"But I'm not a-"
"You are for tonight. Now go on." Two leaned forward and whispered in his brother's ear. "If he takes the ashtray from you then I will set you up with that bar-maid!"
One raised an eyebrow, smirked and nodded.
"Fine."
Two leaned back against the bar, grinning from ear to ear. The American looked at Two's unusually happy face.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just watch" he replied, still smirking.
One looked inquiringly over at his brother who, he noticed, was looking too happy for his own good. Something was definitely up but he couldn't see the slightest thing wrong with handing someone an ashtray.
However, before he reached the man, the man himself turned round apparently ready to greet One. However he looked down at the glass ashtray One was carrying and leapt up with a cry. He then proceeded the shield the woman next to him and begun to shout at One in extremely fast French.
"Obtenez loin de nous ! Allez ! Pas vous touchez mon épouse ! Si vous venez n'importe quel plus étroit j'appellerai la police ! Partez ! " *
"What?" One looked over at his brother who was now laughing so hard he was holding onto the bar for support. One scowled and put the ashtray on the table. Unfortunately the woman now got hysterical and shrieked.
"Pierre! Oh Pierre!" Aidez-moi ! "
One was suddenly aware that the whole room had gone silent. Apart from the woman's screams that is. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him and some were even shaking their heads in shock.
"Two?" said One weakly "Explain what is going on."
Two made a failed attempt to hide a smirk and threw his brother the matchbox.
One read the small paragraph on the back of the small box and still looked as confused as ever.
'À Paris, un cendrier est considéré comme une arme mortelle' it said.
"What?" One looked up at his brother who promptly sighed. "Roughly translated, dear brother. It means 'In Paris an ashtray is considered to be a deadly weapon'!"
One dropped the matchbox.
"What kind of a stupid law is that?" One scowled. He walked over to his brother. "Let's go"
"Go?" Two looked mortified "But what about the drinks?"
One's lips got, if possible, even thinner.
"Right. I'm coming." Two grabbed his coat and the pair exited the bar, followed by the accusing stares of the crowd behind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You have got a deranged sense of humour, Two" One sighed.
"Thank you. Nice to know I have useful qualities"
"Don't you even care that I was just made a mockery out of?" One pouted.
"No. Not really. I mean, as you said. What kind of a law is that anyway?"
The pair stood in silence then suddenly, One began to laugh.
"An ashtray!" he smirked "Couldn't they have thought of something a bit more interesting to 'be considered a deadly weapon'!"
"Hey! Cut them some slack. You know what the Mero's like"
"Yes. He likes to keep things simple."
They continued along the thread of their boss for a while as they wandered by the banks of the Seine. Finally they came to a bench with one woman sitting there, staring out at the water.
Two bent down.
"Excusez-moi. Pourriez vous vous déplacer à votre manteau?" **
The woman looked up. Then screamed and bolted, leaving her coat behind.
"I don't believe it!" Two cried.
"Start believing it!" yelled One "Come on!"
They followed the woman down the streets, both running at the same pace with her a little way ahead of them.
"You can't say that miracles don't happen!" shouted Two to his brother.
"Just get the girl!" One yelled back.
Suddenly the woman veered off into a cobbled side street filled with cardboard boxes and other such waste from the restaurant on the left. Taking care not to skid on the damp boxes, the woman continued her plight for freedom. The twins however, kept their balance over the waste perfectly and with each stride they got a little closer.
Then just as they were almost on her the narrow street ended and came out onto a main road. She didn't stop to look for oncoming traffic. Dashing out into the road she made a last desperate bid for escape just before One could grab her. The sound of car horns filled the night air but the woman reached the other side without a scratch.
"Come on! Stop standing around!" One shouted to Two. The pair flew across the road and phased through the body of a car just before it could hit them. Once on the other side, they noticed again that the girl was several yards ahead again.
"Oh great!" One cried as the woman waved down a black car and almost fell into the back seat.
"No problem. She's just made the biggest mistake of her short life!" Two smirked at his brother. "Remember the airport?"
One nodded and stepped out into the road just as the car reached the place where he was standing. Mimicking the incident at Parisian arrivals he phased into the passenger seat receiving two responses. A shout of fright from the driver and a shriek form the woman in the back.
One looked at the man who promptly began to yell again. "Excuse me, monsieur but duty has to be performed." One took of the man's hair, pulled his head backwards and dealt a swift slice to his thin neck. Blood seeped out from the deep wound and opening the door, One shoved the man's lifeless body out into the road. He grabbed the steering wheel and regained control of the car before moving across into the driver's seat. Before doing anything else he locked the whole car with a button at the front. Doors, windows and all. The woman in the back tried frantically to get her door open but it was locked tight.
"Sit back" said One from the front "There's no way out, so you may as well enjoy the ride."
He reversed back and soon Two appeared in the second back seat next to the woman. He ran a finger down her pale cheek causing her to recoil in fear, and smirked.
"Miss Croft" he purred "We meet again."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
* = "Get away from us! Don't you touch my wife! If you come any closer I will call the police. Leave!"
** = " Excuse me. Could you move your coat?"