re Oh L'Amour

A/N: this is based on two fanvids by Vielmouse on ao3. One is "Found Family/Oh L'Amour," showing how LeBeau openly celebrates all the good things in life, even in the worst circumstances; the other is "Blue is the Most Attractive Color/Venus As a Boy," showing that Newkirk "believes in beauty" deep down too. Suggestions from Vielmouse were to describe Lebeau in the fanvid, and perhaps to show LeBeau inspiring or encouraging Newkirk…or to do what I liked.

If you have not seen the fanvids, I recommend that you take a look, and that you have a peep at "All Hail the King of Dunces" too:-)

Thanks to GrrraceUnderfire for helping me out with this:-)

So much is kept hidden, wrapped up, out of sight;

Like a greatcoat tight-fastened to keep out the cold,

A cardsharp's white shirt with an ace up each sleeve,

A conjuror's cape with a trick in each fold.

~0~

He only reveals what he wants to reveal,

He has learned to be cautious, step back and observe.

He knows his own worth, knows his place, knows his class;

There are so many things that he'll never deserve.

~0~

He's a captive, a prisoner of war, all too soon;

Views his lot with a weary and cynical air;

Looks ahead to long years behind coils of barbed wire,

Wraps his greatcoat more tightly…the world doesn't care.

~0~

He has learned how to keep up his guard, his defence,

Has the skills to distract, misinform, misdirect.

He has played enough poker to polish his act,

His instinct is always to dodge and deflect.

~0~

The Stalag fills up, overflows and expands;

More barracks, more prisoners, more lives wrenched off track.

There is contact; close quarters, adversity shared

To a point, none too near; he will watch his own back.

~0~

But…rules have exceptions, a whirlwind arrives;

A small feisty Frenchman he cannot ignore,

Whose passion and fury and sheer joie de vivre,

Gets under his skin like no other before.

~0~

There is rage at the war, but delight in so much;

The country he loves and defends with great pride;

There is pleasure in food, there is joy in romance,

His heart's on his sleeve; there is nothing to hide.

~0~

A strong and peculiar friendship is formed;

French cooking is deemed an inedible crime,

Emotional outbursts are viewed with dismay,

But, if back up is needed, it's there every time.

~0~

As Paris, and all of her charms are described,

The words are dismissed with a roll of blue eyes;

But he's seeing tall bridges, the flow of the Thames;

Reflections of searchlights through dark London skies.

~0~

There's a spark, there's a purpose, a closely forged bond,

No strings, no self-serving conditions attached.

Both parties involved aren't inclined to admit

That two opposite souls can be perfectly matched.

~0~

No swift transformation, apparent to all;

His greatcoat's still there, and he still wraps up tight,

But threads gently loosen, unnoticed at first,

Which slowly and steadily let in the light.

~0~