Hermione smiled back at Fleur, enjoying the warm summer sun shining down on them. The day wasn't unpleasantly hot, though it was warmer than normal, it would have been the perfect day to go to the beach if they had been further south. But as it was, Hermione was able to enjoy it with Fleur.

They meandered along the cobblestone sidewalks, Hermione taking in her surroundings, looking ever so child-like as she studied every little detail, amazed at the simple beauty of the city. Fleur talked animatedly as they walked, enjoying the ability to share her city with someone. There were lots of people there, but they all hurried from place to place, eyes cast downward, hands shoved in their pockets, they didn't see the city, not like she did. They didn't know the stories, the history, not like her.

This was her city, her home, and it was part of her. She spoke with passion, captivating Hermione, leaving her in awe, she was a force to be reckoned with. Unwavering in devotion, she regaled the brunette with tales of her childhood, running through the streets with her younger sister, the bakery just ahead was run by the nicest couple. The two girls would stop there in the summer and the old woman behind the counter would give them each a cookie. Fleur would argue they were the best cookies too, warm and gooey, fresh from the oven. And then they would be off, there had been a park around the corner, they spent much of their time at. She loved moving the giant chess pieces around the board painted on the ground. They were nearly as big as her back then, and sometimes they'd feed the pigeons there.

She laughed wholeheartedly, recounting the time her sister had fallen in the pond in that park. She'd seen a turtle and wanted to catch it when it slid off of its perch- a log that had gone adrift. Gabrielle had been positive she could reach it, standing on the tips of her toes as she leaned forward, stretching as far as she could, her fingertips had grazed the water softened wood when she lost her balance and fell in with a splash. Their mother had greeted them with a stern look, chastising the girls for getting dirty and trekking mud through her house.

As they passed the street that had held the park, Hermione's gaze drifted down it, looking for a hint of the park, but she saw no signs of it. There was now a rather large market, the structure itself looking as though it had been there for years. Puzzled, Hermione looked back at the blonde who looked to be about her age, and decided she simply had to have misunderstood the blonde, or overestimated the age of the market.

The days had passed quite quickly, Hermione had managed to spend the majority of her vacation in the company of the other woman. Friday night had arrived, and she wanted to experience the Parisian night life before she had to return home in a couple days. Despite the flirty nature of their encounters, nothing had yet happened between them (aside from some brief hand holding). Hermione was mentally berating herself, she normally wasn't so shy, but there was something about the blonde that made her nervous.

She wasn't afraid of the blonde, or scared to make a move, normally she would have already made an attempt at bedding the woman. Fleur had been giving her all the signs she'd be successful too, but she felt more like she was the one being hunted rather than the hunter she usually was. She felt out of her element to say the least.

They had made plans to go to a bar that night though, and Hermione was determined to look her best, she had decided she was going to make her move. She'd put on a simple suit, hugging her curves in all the right places, accentuating her features nicely, she wore light makeup, never having been a huge fan of the stuff. She knew she looked good, her muscles were toned nicely and had just the right amount of definition to them. The military had done wonders for her. She admired herself in the mirror, finishing up her preparations, making sure everything was just right before she grabbed her wallet and room key and headed out.

She'd managed to arrive to the bar early, having figured out the subway system and not gotten lost after the first day. Though, she had to admit, she had quite the teacher, the blonde had managed to teach her a lot about the city and though she was a foreigner, she didn't feel as such, blending in with the locals, walking to and fro as though it was her home.

Hermione was still amazed by the city's architecture, a history book come alive, she couldn't believe how each section of the city had its own style, how the age could be seen just passing by. She loved the older parts of the city without a doubt. It was unlike anything she'd seen before, nothing in the States could compare, Paris itself having existed longer than her home country.

The brunette smiled as a familiar blonde sidled up next to her, taking the empty stool to her right. She ordered them both a couple of drinks in French and the bartender complied. The bar was filled with softly playing music and dim lights as a dull roar of conversations echoed around them in a variety of languages. Hermione didn't think she'd ever get used to that, having grown up hearing one or two languages at best, it was alien to be here and hear five or six in a single place.

"So, you're leaving soon aren't you?"

Hermione nodded, her hand slipping around the glass as she brought it to her lips. She wasn't sure what the drink was, but she felt the familiar burn of alcohol sliding down her throat. Warmth rushed to her cheeks soon after, coloring them slightly. She pretended to ignore the blonde moving closer to her, invading her space and filling her senses.

"Back to Germany?"

"Yeah." She finished her drink and asked for another, still hunched over the bar. She sat back feeling a soft hand on her shoulder, honeyed eyes meeting cerulean.

"Just because you're leaving doesn't mean we can't talk anymore." A somber mood falling over the two women. The bartender placed another couple of glasses filled with the same unknown drink.

"True. I keep forgetting it's not that far, I'm used to it being half a world away. Actually, I um, I wanted to ask, if maybe you would want to go on a date? I meant to ask sooner but, I kept chickening out." Hermione ducked her head at the last admission, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks.

"I would love to. 'ow about next time zough, you show me your city?"

Hermione nodded, feeling braver about having to tell Fleur she was here as a soldier, knowing that the other woman obviously wanted to see her again. They talked in relative ease, ignoring that soon Hermione would be leaving and their daily activities would have to come to a stop.

Around midnight the bartender had to kick them out, it was time to go somewhere else. They'd only had a couple drinks over the hours that they were there and were still almost completely sober. Fleur grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her quickly down the sidewalk, "I want to show you somezing before you leave." They turned a corner and Fleur pointed down the street, off in the distance Hermione could make out the shape of the Eiffel Tower, shining brightly as a dazzling lightshow played up and down its beams.

Fireworks glittered, illuminating the sky and Hermione gasped at such a gorgeous display and the two slowed their pace, enjoying a leisurely stroll, continuing their approach. "It only does this on Friday and Saturday at midnight. I've waited all week to show you."

Hermione stopped walking and turned to Fleur, feeling possessed by some inexplicable force, a voice whispering in her ear, pulling her closer, her hand drifting upwards, coming to rest on the blonde's cheek as she leaned forward, her lips parting slightly. The electric spark she felt between them unlike anything she had ever felt before as soft skin collided, meeting tenderly, nervously, exploring as new territory was crossed, wanting to delve deeper but afraid of crossing a line as too many lines were crossed unable to take a step back.

Time froze, time began slipping by, seconds marching forward, a creaking, groaning of metal breaking free, trapped for too long. Fleur gasped, a new hunger being awoken in her as she pushed onward, unwilling to let go of the brunette. She did so reluctantly, holding back a quiet whimper at the loss of warmth.

Hermione returned back to post Sunday night, sadness filling her, she wished she was on leave still. It was meant to be a quick break, but she'd found so much more than she'd ever intended, her mind still replaying the kiss from Friday night. She hadn't been able to see Fleur again before she left. They'd continued walking the streets of Paris that night following their kiss, unwilling to part.

Fleur had had to leave town the next morning, a weekly family dinner she had said. Their home was outside of Paris requiring her to travel and she would not be back until Sunday. As a result, the brunette had been left to wander the now somewhat familiar city, sticking to the more touristy areas where she was more likely to find other English speakers, and she silently vowed to herself to start taking language lessons when she got back.

It had been, as a result, a pretty quiet day where she was left to her thoughts, she'd smiled at the memories of the Louvre, the Catacombs, walking around the gardens at Versailles among the other activities that they'd done. She'd taken lots of photos, some secretly containing the blonde.

She had yet to tell the other woman why she was actually in Germany, or anything more specific about her, and when she thought about it, she really didn't know much about Fleur either, just that she was some wealthy heiress who was going to run the family business someday (what that business was she didn't know). But the two had enjoyed each others' company, sharing many interests and easy conversation. It was relaxing, she hadn't even realized the amount of tension she had in her body until she was free of it.

Hermione had stomped up to her room, her duffel slung over her back, only stopping at the CQ desk to sign back in from pass. She'd slid her key into her door and pushed it open with a depressed sigh, the desolate look of her room bringing an unwelcome, empty feeling back to her. She threw her bag down on her bed and began to put away her clothes and prepare for the early morning to come. Abbott, laying on her bed, looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow, "Not happy to be back?" she teased.

"Something like that."

She sat up, putting her book aside, "So, how was it?" She had yet to make it to Paris, instead preferring to blow her meager income at the bars on the weekends, and on a fancy car as many young privates did. Hermione hadn't seen the point of such an investment, there was so much public transit available, she could use the money to save up for something else.

Hermione sat down on her bed and began to tell her blonde friend about her week in Paris, trying not to mention the friend she had made. She wasn't in the mood to be teased just yet, and really, not much had happened between them, she wasn't one to kiss and tell too. Or so she told herself, nevermind that she normally enjoyed bragging about her conquests being almost as bad as one of the guys.

But Fleur, she told herself, was different.

CQ is charge of quarters. I don't think I explained that last time it popped up. Or maybe I did? It's a Sergeant or above that gets put on duty for a 24 hour period of time to sit at a desk and have people sign in and out of the barracks. its to prevent unauthorized people from being snuck in or too much crazy stuff from happening.