By request of zephyrchild and in honour of the S03 premiere tomorrow, have a new chapter earlier than planned. :)
The crowds on the Champs-Elysées that afternoon were astounding. Cosima and Delphine, after securing places to stand on a truck, watched the rows and rows of tanks and troops go by.
They broke off before the parade ended and wandered again, not talking much. By the time they made it back to the house, their tummies were rumbling, and they were glad to see Madame Lafrange in the kitchen, the doctor and Scott seated, ready for dinner.
"Ah, my lovelies! Sit, sit, take your places," the woman of the house urged them, and they did. In a moment, Madame Lafrange joined them, and, after a quick grace led by the doctor, they passed the food around.
The good doctor had smiled in his gentle, bear-ish way when introduced to Cosima, and when he declared what a pleasure it was to have her there, she believed him. The group talked about what they had seen that day, Scott having joined the Lafranges to visit the parade before the doctor insisted on making rounds to check on some local wounded. They were lucky to have missed bullets fired at Notre Dame, which nearly caused the crowd to scatter. Friends had told them that De Gaulle had simply carried on to the cathedral without betraying a bit of fear or hesitation.
"Sounds like he's going to be President," Cosima observed, just as the door opened and footsteps came to the dining room entrance.
"Sounds like you're right," a voice came in answer, and when they looked up, it was Danielle joining them.
Delphine bounced up in delight.
"Oh, Danielle!" She quickly moved to her journalist friend and embraced her in excitement. "I'm so glad to see you. Danielle, this is Cosima, the agent who was looking for me. Cosima, this is Danielle, who saved my life, and, I think, my sanity."
Cosima rose and the two women shook hands, hold lingering, as they looked at each other with respect and gratitude.
"I'm so honoured to meet you," Cosima uttered solemnly. Danielle gave a close-mouthed smile and a half-wave to dismiss the serious emotions in the air.
"Enchantée, Cosima. You are so welcome. I'm so happy to meet you and see our Delphine smiling as she is."
There was a shuffle as she sat down and they passed her the food.
"Pascal was right about one thing," she stated, as she served herself. "There weren't many North African troops at the march today, not so many black faces. But," she half-shrugged, "all-in-all, a success. I think Rol is seen as something of a lower-rung figure, now."
"Were you there at Notre Dame?" Delphine asked.
"Yes, but I still have my instincts. Church columns make excellent cover from bullets." Her delivery of the jest was dry, as usual.
Around the table, the group hmm-ed and nodded, eating, until Scott piped up.
"You know, you two really do look kind of alike."
Cosima and Danielle paused to look at each other, the others looking from one to the other and pondering. The journalist was all smartly put-together fashion, her tumbling curls restored to their former darkness and gleaming, her air mature and elegant, her lips always just hovering at the edge of cynical twist. The secret agent was casual, a bit bohemian, her body holding the energy of an inquisitive child, and the warm, dark, intelligent eyes behind her glasses good-natured above her smirk. They both shrugged.
A chuckle went around the table, Delphine's coming through fingers she did not realize had risen to cover her mouth. These two delightful women that captured her heart could be sisters, but they also were each quite themselves. It was a little funny, she thought, but mostly just was happy to see them both near her, her two favourites. She felt as though she could just bask in their combined presence.
That night, they shared stories.
After the doctor and his wife had retired to bed, Danielle talked of her husband, their determination, her loss. She still held her composure while talking, and didn't shed a tear. Delphine almost wished she would, to get it out, but she knew and respected that her friend moved through life with a committed strength that helped her push through the worst situations, and defy the evil in the human soul. She would cry in her own time, and with whom she chose.
They both filled in the others about what had happened in the cattle car of the prison train, but Danielle told it matter-of-factly, while Delphine nodded, tears in her eyes, and said again how grateful she was to have met Danielle, to have escaped the horrible fortune the others on that train must have faced. She had to pause and take a breath, Danielle and Cosima each taking one of her hands, before she pulled herself together, taking a page from her journalist friend's book.
Delphine spoke little of her time with the Germans, except about instances where she had worked to pull off, triumphed or failed a mission. She didn't mention von Leekie, but she talked about the horror of madness and cruelty she saw in some men's eyes, and the masklike stillness that slipped over her face as she talked about it betrayed the techniques she had used to hide her thoughts and feelings from the Öberführer, the other Nazis, and the collaborators. Likewise, she bared little about her torture at the hands of Die Klinge, except to admit she was threatened and cut. They did not press her, the horror and compassion clear in their eyes.
Cosima and Scott explained their trip into France and toward Paris. Both spoke dismissively of their own actions while praising the other, although Cosima would occasionally fake overly smug pride in a comical way. Cosima had a way of making frightening circumstances, such as getting caught hanging from a tree in a battlefield, unexpectedly stumbling upon a dummy, or sneaking through enemy lines and into the city — so far into its depths that they actually wound up underneath it — sound amusing. Where Danielle was straightforward, Cosima diffused tension with jokes, anecdotes and technical details.
Danielle was impressed with their luck, their drive, their quick thinking. Questions were asked and answered about meeting the Spanish guerillas, the debacle at the Eiffel tower was gasped over, and they each shared details of what had happened to them as they drew together, finally to meet. They all had to admit that their paths were exceptionally tangled and eventful. But they had all taken action, risking their lives to fight against the darkness, to search for what was good. Perhaps that was what had brought them so many highs and lows, twists and turns, and what truly united them.
"And you, Scott, have held yourself so well with such strong-willed women," Danielle half-teased him, patting his leg and earning one of his embarrassed smiles. "Many men couldn't do that. One could almost say you were an honourary lady among us."
Scott chuckled, but his look was earnest.
"Honestly, I feel so blessed, just… so incredibly fortunate at having met and worked with each one of you."
"That's my boy Scotty," Cosima smiled fondly and poked his arm. He turned several shades of red.
They were all exhausted by then and decided to retire, heading to their respective beds. Delphine and Cosima performed their ablutions in turn, and each donned one of the old, soft but clean nightgowns that had been draped on their bed while taking their turns in the bathroom.
In the darkness, they lay facing each other. Delphine's eyes found Cosima's and seemed to delve into them through the dim space between them. She reached out a hand and tucked a strand of Cosima's now-loose hair behind her ear.
"Mon amie," she murmured.
Cosima licked her lips. Her hand moved slowly over to Delphine and lightly touched her shoulder, tracing across and gently covering the still-pink and angry scar near her collarbone. Delphine took in a quick breath, and then closed her eyes and released it, released the fear bound in the broken flesh.
"How did you do it?" Cosima asked, her voice low.
"Do what?" Delphine asked, opening her eyes again.
"How did you stay… you?"
Delphine grasped Cosima's meaning, and bit her lip in thought.
"I don't think I did," she finally answered, sadness in her tone. "I think, for a long time, I just had to become somebody else."
The two women gazed at each other. Cosima's hand found Delphine's cheek.
"I'm so… sorry, Delphine," she managed, her voice slightly breaking.
Delphine reached to hold her cheek in return and just barely shook her head.
"These things… bad things happen," she replied. "Worse things happened to other people. I knew what I was getting into, as well as one can. I'm here, now. Paris is free, and I'm with you… and Danielle, and Scott. And I am so grateful for that."
Cosima looked down, one corner of her mouth twitching, her exhale both a scoff and a laugh.
"No, I… I mean yes, I'm so sorry for what happened to you, but also, I'm sorry that I couldn't get here faster, that I couldn't help you." She sighed. "In the end, I didn't help you at all. Instead, I just put Scott and other people in danger. You had to take it on yourself. Danielle… if it weren't for her… thank God you found each other. I feel like I owe her a debt, maybe almost as much as you do…"
Delphine's eyebrows drew together in a slight frown.
"Cosima. I'm glad you are thankful to Danielle, but I have no doubt that you would have helped me just as she did, if you could. How could you possibly have known? How could you have gotten here? And what about what you did to help the Spanish resistance fighters contact the army? What if they had taken a different route, and run into more Germans? We might as well speculate about why I couldn't get to you to rescue you from that tree, or prevent you from having to run alone from the Eiffel tower."
"But you were my responsibility, Delphine." A tear spilled over from Cosima's lashes onto her pillow. She couldn't be logical about this.
"I was never your responsibility, ma cherie. I don't know if there was any reason in you getting assigned to talk to me from England. I don't know why we talked the way we did, why you were so kind to me, except that you are good. You could have reported what happened to me and gone on to the next project. There were other people undercover you could try to protect. But, somehow, we had this connection… something that I began to feel the first time I talked with you. And you, being brave, and resourceful, and perhaps more than a little crazy, took it on yourself to try to help me. Your commitment, your generosity, they amaze me. It wasn't something you had to do. But I'm glad you did, if only because I feel as though you and I were meant to meet."
She tipped up Cosima's chin with her fingers, encouraging the American to look into her eyes again.
"You know, I got so much comfort from you. Even after I could no longer hear you on the wireless, I could hear you in my head. You were kind, and so close to real. Perhaps that was just my imagination, but knowing you now, and witnessing how like you are to my thoughts of you… I feel almost as though we were connected, like there was a part of you that was with me, that reached me through the distance between us."
She paused, swallowing.
"I don't want you to think I'm projecting some idea I have of you that I made up in a time of need upon who you really are. I know that, physically, we barely just met, and we will learn much more about each other… but I feel almost like I knew you well before, in another life I can't remember. Do you think that's foolish?"
Cosima's eyes were wide, scanning Delphine's face.
"N-no, Delphine. I don't think that's foolish." Cosima took a breath. "I feel it, too."
They fell silent, Delphine's hand on Cosima's jaw, and Cosima's between them, clutching tightly at the sheets. Cosima took a breath, and her lips parted as if she was about to speak.
The explosion shattered the window above them.