Here we go: If you think I invented any of the principal characters in this, please cut me a big, fat check and go sue ALW, Kay and the Leroux estate. Because, clearly then, THEY adapted from ME. (Insert hysterical laughter here.)

Reply to reviews: I will not be recapping the story of the rose and the nightingale, at least not that I can forsee. For the curious, the story (from Kay) basically is that a nightingale falls in love with a white rose. Every night he comes and sings to the rose, until finally the rose opens her petals to the nightingale and from their union is born the red rose "the world was never meant to know." A little metaphor, perhaps?

Other notes: I am not sure how the Siamese cat will be worked in, yet, but expect to see her appearance later on. :-

Raul strode up the walk purposefully. He carried an armful of roses, the best he could find in Paris, and a box of Belgian chocolates.

"Poor Christine, she seemed so upset about the move," he mused. "Still, she'll get used to it. Perhaps the priest there will allow her to sing with the choir sometimes."

It was evening and he was going to surprise his bride-to-be with a trip to the zoo. They had gone there once, months before, and he remembered her smile as they threw buns to the elephants.

"Look!" she'd exclaimed, pointing to one particularly large male. "Look how he picked it up!"

"It's interesting," he'd said offhandedly, but her eyes were wide at the elephants, and he held her for a moment, feeling her hair against his chin and then, for the first time, lifting her chin and kissing her. Her blue eyes widened, at first in fright, then in love.

"Elephants," she'd said, and he laughed and kissed her again.

The surprise turned out to be Raul's when Monique (who assumed Raul was probably meeting Christine in Rouen for some sort of romantic weekend) mentioned Christine's whereabouts.

"Why is she there? And alone? Why didn't you go with her?"

"She said she wanted privacy to select…personal items for her trip with you next week."

"In Rouen?"

"Madeline Giry, of course, sir. She's quite the designer, I hear she studied with some of the best designers in all of Europe. Truly a genius, yes?"

"Giry?" Raul's eyes narrowed at the uncommon, yet familiar, last name. He turned on his heel, threw the flowers in the gutter and the chocolates after them.

"The train station," he said to his driver.

"Sir?"

"Now!"