"I bought bread," said an overly jubilant Beatrix. Bill had been surveying a stand displaying various Swiss army knifes when Beatrix rejoined him. Actually the entire block was crowded with stands selling food, clothing, jewelry, and…bread. It was a typical weekend street fair. She was now standing behind him wearing a pair of black jeans, a black three-quarter button-up-black shirt with a white flower design, and a pair of black thick healed boots. Locks of blonde hair were pulled half back with a hair tie but with the excessive amount of wind her hair was a damn mess and it had been annoying her a great deal.
In her arms was an elongated loaf of French bread wrapped in a thin tissue type paper. In other words it was a baguette.
Bill turned away from the knife stand with a raised eyebrow. He smiled broadly at Beatrix. She looked cute with her hair all frazzled out. He liked that shirt on her too, he'd never seen her wear it before. "Good God...." he surveyed the large baguette in her arms, "...now that's what I call bread." He glanced back at the knife stand, but then dismissively turned back to Beatrix, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked away. "Asshole tried to rip me off...." he muttered, "He had a nice piece in there....a World War I combat knife, but I think he thought he could take me on it..." he sneered, "Not likely."
After last night, Bill was glad to see things were a little between them today. He wasn't really sure what had happened the night before, but after dinner things had been strained and they had spent the rest of the night hardly saying a word to each other. Back at the hotel room, Beatrix had spent most of her time idly watching TV and taking a ridiculously long shower, while he tooled around on the patio playing his flute and then leafing aimlessly through a stack of Paris tourist brochures. In short, it had not been the evening Bill had hoped it would have been.
But today, things were better. They had run almost by accident into a huge block market, selling everything from baby baskets, to fruit, to bad paintings and gipsy palm reading sessions. Both of them were finding it quite enjoyable and there was a large enough variety to keep to both of their interests.
Bill looked back down at the baguette that Beatrix was toting, "Ya know....you could probably kill somebody with that baguette," he smirked at her with a sadistic glint in his eye. Leave it to Bill to make a perfectly innocent piece of bakery product into a deadly weapon.
Beatrix raised a speculative eye brow at him and then back down to the bread in her arms. She then idly twirled it as one would a blade and effortlessly swung it around (the bread was hard so it was unlikely to break during these maneuvers) and brought it around the settle against Bill's collar bone. "If it was sharper or…I could let it sit out for a week and become rock solid and then hit you over the head with it," she said with an equally sadistic glint in her eye to go along with her smile.
She flipped the baguette back around to settle in her arms and her façade became placid. The man standing a few feet away at the knife stand was staring at the blonde with eyes agog. Beatrix ignored this and just began to walk away with Bill at her side. "I wasn't ripped off when buying this," she stated, that jubilant demeanor still present. "But, I was deciding between the baguette and a piece of jewelry." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It was a hard choice but I choose the baguette." Leave it to Beatrix to buy a loaf of bread instead of 22K gold diamond necklace or something equally as pricey.
Bill smiled, raising a brow of his own at her, as they continued to walk along through the crowed, "You chose a piece of bread over jewelry," he smiled, shaking his head, "You are indeed far from the typical woman Kiddo." That was a major "duh" statement on a number of levels and Bill knew it. He chuckled to himself, pondering her comment about hitting him over the head with the newly ordained..."bread as weapon." He leaned against her affectionately as they walked, "Isn't it supposed to be the man who clubs the woman over the head....so he can drag her back to his cave.....?" he gave her a well meaning smirk, before placing a kiss on her temple. He thought about offering to buy her whatever thing she had been looking at, but thought it somewhat silly.....but then again...
"Show me what you were looking at?" He prodded her with a tilt of his head, when she seemed hesitant, he gave her a playful little shove, smile widening, "Come on.....show me...I want to see what expensive thing you turned down for bread, albeit a very impressive loaf of bread." He gave her another playful little prodding shove, never one to be easily undaunted.
"Fine," Beatrix said after a few more shoves were ensued and she almost bumped into someone who gave the couple a nasty glare. She gripped his hand and led him through the crowds and down a few carts until they came to a long rectangular table arrayed with a magnificent display of jewelry. Standing behind the display was a middle aged woman, creased wrinkles around her eyes due to the over use of de-wrinkle products that didn't work, and she had raven black hair streaked with strands of white that was pulled up into a bun. She wore a white button up blouse and a pair of jeans.
When Beatrix came over with Bill, the woman immediately stopped caring to the customer she was with and approached them on the opposite table. The sales woman seemed flustered at the tall blonde's reappearance.
"There they are," Beatrix was saying as the woman approached. She was pointing to a simple pair of earrings. They were the dangling type, a simple oval shaped topaz stone that was encircled with a white gold trim. The earrings were very beautiful as they were very pricey.
"You came back!" The saleswoman said. Beatrix looked up with a curious arch of her brow. "Yes, but I was just showing my…"
"You her husband? Oui, good," the saleswoman was a fast talker, her English good but choppy and it had an evident French accent. "Tell her she insulted me by going and buying bread and not my jewelry! This is all hand made, you know how many hours I spend making this? Hundreds! More hours then I bet you ever have worked."
Beatrix gave Bill and apologetic side glance. She had gotten in an argument of sorts with the saleswoman about the earrings, that being her major hesitance to come back.
Bill watched this exchange between Beatrix and the pushy saleswoman with a furrowed brow. He then briefly glanced back down at the pair of earrings, which were...he had to admit, quite beautiful.
He looked back up at the saleswoman who was watching them with an irritated and flustered look. "Have you ever made bread for a living?" Bill asked the woman in an even voice.
The French woman gave him a frazzled look, "Well...non...but I have made it before, for dinner." She shook her head, "Look monsieur, that is not the point, I make jewelry-"
"So," Bill interrupted her, which was rare for him, "...then how do you know that the person who made that bread did not put just as much of their hardworking effort into making it than you put into making those earrings?"
The saleswoman's wrinkled eyes widened for a brief moment, "That is ridiculous, I-"
"And likewise," Bill continued, "How do you know that....my wife," he stressed the two words with a hint of sarcasm, which was followed by a dark chuckle, "...does not work equally hard in what she does for a living?"
The saleswoman looked more flustered than before, her eyes darted between the two of them. "I did not mean to insult you or your wife, I-"
"Just as my wife did not mean to insult you," Bill interjected with a raised eyebrow.
This was too much for the saleswoman, she'd hadn't asked for this sort of harassment...she just wanted to sell jewelry. "Excuse moi, I have other customers," she turned away, looking rather snitty.
"That being said," Bill spoke up loudly, so that the rapidly moving away saleswoman could hear him, "They are very exquisite earrings."
The saleswoman froze and turned back to them. She was back in the mode, but somewhat distanced now, "Oui, oui! Very beautiful! They would look very beautiful on your young wife!"
Bill smirked, "Do you have any single earrings?"
The newly friendly saleswoman stared at him, "Non...pourqui..er..why?"
He waved a hand, "Hrm.....never mind," he reached around to his back pocket and took out his wallet; opening it...he began stacking large bills on the counter in front of the gaping saleswoman. Bill stopped midway through setting down a hundred Euro, "Would your prefer traveler's checks?" he asked with s twist of a lip.
"OH! NON! Non!," the saleswoman caught herself, "Non...monsieur, cash is very good too."
The entire time the saleswoman was carefully packing the earrings up in a small box, she was prattling on about how stunning they were going to look on the tall blonde. By the time she handed Bill the small wrapped box, Beatrix was her "favorite customer of the day" Before the two of them left the counter, Bill leaned over to the now grinning saleswoman, "Go buy some bread," he told her in a not entirely friendly tone of voice.
As they walked away, Bill turned to Beatrix, the box still in his hand, "I know you hate this sort of thing," he smiled, "But....indulge me," he took her hand, the one that wasn't still clutching onto the baguette, and placed the small box in her palm.
Beatrix glanced to Bill with an amused smile on her face. It was very sweet that he went and bought the earrings for her and what they had to go through in order to get them was highly amusing, only adding to the 'special' notion of it. "Aw," she said slipping the box into her jean pocket for safe keeping. "You're so sweet...sometimes." Her smile turned coy and she leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek before they started back down the street. The array of vendors along the sidewalk was beginning to dwindle. Soon the street curved into a side alley way that eventually ceased at a canal.
Beatrix idly sauntered over to the railing and stared down into the green glossed water, with bread still in hand. She wasn't letting go of that bread, it was somewhat humorous. She glanced over her shoulder at her 'husband'. That had been even funnier as was the whole confusing conversation Bill had with the saleswoman. "Did you buy anything? Because if you didn't maybe I should go back and tell the army knife vendor to buy some bread."
Bill laughed, finding a good amount of humor in the full circle of the joke. "That won't be necessary Kiddo....but the offer is appreciated," he chuckled, but then suddenly grew completely serious, "Don't move!" He held up his hand, his other hand reaching back to grab the camera that was slung over his shoulder. He'd been totting the camera around all day, taking his random, generally badly composed pictures. Last night, when he'd spent most of the evening trying to avoid getting into a conversation with Beatrix by reading through a stack of tourist magazines, he'd read an article about finding good photo opportunities while vacationing. It appeared he'd taken this to heart, but instead of going about it casually, Bill's way of informing somebody of a good photo op was to act like they were currently standing in front of a ravenous bear.
"Just don't move..." he repeated in a stern voice, fiddling with the camera, scowling. Finally, he smiled as he snapped the shot of Beatrix standing there next to the canal, holding onto the baguette, smiling happily, her hair blowing in the wind. "That was perfect..." He grinned, joining her at the railing. He wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning in closely he gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "I hope out of all of the pictures I've taken, that one turns out the best."
Beatrix affectionately leaned her forehead against his and then turned to stare out at the canal, her temple settled against his. She didn't want him to take a picture right then. Her hair was a frizzled mess with the constant wind. She stared out at the rippling water below and replied, "With your camera skills I give it a fifty-fifty chance of coming out less than perfect." She smirked playfully before that contented smile came back across her face.
There was a moments silence before she spoke up again in speculation, "You know, prettier pictures of me could be taken."
Bill smiled gently, letting her little poke at his somewhat lacking camera skills go...mainly because it was true. "Hrm perhaps," he replied softly to her last comment, eyes focused on the dark green water below. "But...you never fail to be pretty in any picture Kiddo...just as you are in reality. And besides, this way we'll always have the bread...saved for posterity."
He smiled at her, "Beauty fades...." he smirked, "Just look at me....." a laugh, "But....meaning never does." He gave her shoulders a squeeze, looking up from the water to gaze at her fondly, "I think....we should go to the Spanish quarter for dinner...have some real Spanish food." He raised an eyebrow, "Little do you know....I can dance a mean salsa...even a tango if I'm in the right mood. I can teach you," he grinned at her, knowing she'd have a reaction to that one. "It would be a good change from our cheese, bread and cracker diet of late. What do you say Kiddo?"
Beatrix pulled her head away and canted her chin to her chest, raising eyebrows in his direction. "The Spanish quarter sounds perfect but," she held up a threatening single digit. "There is no way in hell you are dancing the salsa and there is no 'fucking' way you are going to embarrass me by attempting to tango." With threats effectively served out the 'killer' couple proceeded back to the hotel to prepare for dinner.
Bill just smirked at her threats, "You say that now....but you'll do it....I know you will....your underestimating my dancing abilities as well as my powers of persuasion." This just earned him a glare, which he laughed off. This continuous jibing continued as they walked back to the hotel and got ready for dinner.