"Wow."

Jennie smiled as she looked across the table and saw Lisa gazing around at the small, dimly-lit bar, her eyebrows raised and her eyes wide.

She decided that she loved surprising Lisa.

"Why are there so many books in here?"

"Bar Librairie." Jennie indicated the serving area, where a particularly large, leather-bound volume took pride of place alongside endless bottles of spirits and liqueurs. "It used to be a bookshop."

"Really?"

Jennie nodded. "Although it's always been a bar since I've been here. I think the bookshop went about twenty years ago. They're known for their cocktails now - they have two specialty lists, one for classic French cocktails and in-house recipes, and another one of cocktails in literature."

Lisa narrowed her eyes.

"They do beer as well, right?"

Jennie laughed, and nodded again. "Yes, of course. But at least have a look at the cocktails. They don't all come pink with a cherry on top."

Really, though, Jennie didn't care what Lisa got. She could order whatever she wanted. Beer, mineral water, or the brightest-coloured cocktail with cherries and umbrellas - it didn't matter.

Jennie just wanted to be with her.

But, as Lisa obediently took the cocktail menu that was propped up on the table, Jennie could tell that her attention was not entirely focused on the drinks. Granted, Lisa probably couldn't understand a word of what was written on the card anyway, but Jennie suspected - slightly smugly - that the other woman's inability to concentrate was more likely to do with the figure-hugging red dress that Jennie had changed into earlier from her work clothes. Lisa had jokingly complained at first, saying that if Jennie dressed up, it would make her look scruffy in jeans and her blouse, but she had stopped as soon as she saw the dress.

Although, Jennie thought, the chocolate éclairs that she had brought back up from the pâtisserie for dessert had probably helped as well. Lisa hadn't been able to grumble too much with a mouthful of light, frothy cream and delicate chocolate icing. And it looked as if the combination of dress and pastry was still having the desired effect.

"So...you come here often?"

Torn from wondering whether a blue dress and salted caramel éclairs would actually have been better choices, Jennie was momentarily stumped. It was a simple enough question, and she hadn't exactly been dreading it...but she couldn't lie either. Despite the fact that the bar was only two streets away from the pâtisserie, she very rarely came here, and the reason was simple. She never usually had anyone to come with.

She just wasn't sure that she wanted to admit that to Lisa just yet. But then, she reasoned, she actually had nothing to lose by being honest.

"Not really," she finally admitted. "I don't really go out that often at all."

Lisa looked up in surprise, and Jennie smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I'm usually working, and when I'm not working..." She paused, wondering how to phrase her non-existent social life, when Lisa put down the menu and studied her thoughtfully for a moment.

"Yeah, I get that."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Lisa gave a wry smile before turning back to the menu. "Being a homicide cop isn't exactly a sociable job."

Jennie felt a warm feeling start in the pit of her tummy as she realized that Lisa had meant what she had said earlier. There really was no need to justify anything, or explain herself, or make excuses. She could just be Jennie. She could admit to not having many friends. She could say that, when she did have an evening off, she usually preferred to stay in with Kuma and read, and it wouldn't matter to Lisa. Lisa wouldn't question it. In fact, Jennie was beginning to think that Lisa might even understand it.

During the few hours that they had spent together that afternoon, Jennie's nervous, heady elation had settled down into a pleasant combination of tingly excitement and genuine happiness that Lisa seemed to want to spend time with her as much as she wanted to spend time with Lisa. She didn't think that she had ever felt so comfortable, so at ease in the company of another person, especially one that she had just met, and, while she didn't really know why that would be, she did know that it felt good. For the first time that she could remember, she felt accepted for who she was - and was actually enjoying herself.

"You're gonna have to translate for me." Lisa finally gave up and handed her back the menu. "But just to warn you, I'm not really a cocktail person."

Jennie raised one eyebrow as she took the card, and decided that she could risk a bit more teasing.

"I didn't think you would be much of a salad kind of person either, and yet..." She let the rest of her sentence hang in the air. You ate a good two-thirds of the one that I made.

Lisa inclined her head in acknowledgement. You got me. But her slightly embarrassed grin just made the warm feeling that was lingering in Jennie's stomach grow, and start to spread to places that she had almost forgotten existed.

Quickly, she turned her attention to cocktails.

"Well, I last came here a couple of month's ago when my mother was in town, and I had..." She scanned the menu. "This one, White Angel."

Lisa looked puzzled, and Jennie pointed to the description.

"Kind of like a martini. Holly Golightly drank it in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', it's very nice." She paused, and tried not to laugh at the look on Lisa's face. "But Holly Golightly's not your thing. Okay."

She lowered her eyes back to the menu, scanning for a more...well, masculine kind of mix, musing out loud as she went and trying to ignore Lisa's increasingly worried-sounding interruptions.

"Vesper Martini."

"Shaken, not stirred...yeah, maybe not."

"Mint Juleps are disgusting, even if F. Scott Fitzgerald liked them."

"Can't stand mint."

"And I think we'll leave the Pan-Galactic Gargle Buster well alone, too."

"Excuse me?"

Jennie looked up. ''Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I wouldn't recommend it though, unless you really like peach schnapps?"

Lisa shook her head mutely, allowing Jennie to continue.

"Let's see, now...oh, how about a Smoking Bishop? From 'A Christmas Carol' - Ebenezer Scrooge drank it. It's perhaps more of a winter drink since it comes warm, hence the 'smoking' in the name, but..."

"You trying to tell me something?"

Jennie looked up again, puzzled, and then it struck her. From Holly Golightly to Scrooge...she suddenly felt a bit flustered, and was conscious of the blush creeping over her cheeks. She honestly hadn't been trying to tell Lisa anything, she just hadn't thought about it like that.

But then she realized that Lisa had just been returning the gentle teasing that Jennie herself had doled out earlier, and she smiled in relief. Seeing that the waiter was hovering, waiting for their order, she gave up on the literary drinks and turned to the French offerings instead, willing the redness on her face to go away.

"Well...oh, I know. A French 75."

"What book was that in?"

"It wasn't. It's off their French list. Would you like to try one?"

"Well, that depends." Lisa replied, drawling out the words. "What's in it?"

Jennie smiled. She didn't even have to look at the menu. "Gin, cointreau, a squeeze of lime juice, a sugar cube, and then it's all topped off with champagne."

"Jesus, Jennie!"

"They don't call it a 75 for nothing," Jennie laughed, and started to explain as she saw Lisa's blank look. "Harry's Bar, here in Paris, first made it in 1915 during the First World War. It was said to have such a kick that it felt like being shelled with the French 75 millimeter field gun, which was used in battle at the time."

"And you're encouraging me to drink it?"

Jennie shrugged, still grinning. "I've only ever had it once."

"Exactly."

"Okay, okay. So how about..."

"No more." Lisa held up her hands, beginning to laugh herself. "Fine. A 75. But I am not responsible for what might happen afterwards."

What might happen afterwards...and there it was again. That warm, tingly feeling that had started in her stomach and ended somewhere considerably lower. And the dry mouth. The rapid heart rate.

"And?"

Jennie gave a small start, realizing that Lisa was indicating the menu.

"What are you having?"

Jennie pursed her lips for a moment, trying to think about drinks rather than the growing physical sensations that were trying to get her attention, and that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"I, uh...a Rose cocktail," she decided, finally.

As they waited for their drinks to arrive, Jennie let her eyes wander from Lisa and around the bar that was beginning to fill up with pre-dinner drinkers, and young couples, and larger groups of friends who would probably be heading on to the clubs later. It was a popular place, with a relaxed, friendly atmosphere, but it would, she thought, have made a really lovely bookshop. The shelves still hugged parts of the walls, and the old counter had simply been turned into the bar - a whispered reminder of conversations and discussions and friendly arguments that had once been held over books rather than drinks. And, just to add to the unique vibe, Bar Librairie sometimes had live music playing. Jennie had known that, had heard it occasionally when she walked past on a summer's evening on her way to the small Carrefour market to do her grocery shopping. But she had not realized that tonight was one of those nights until a woman's voice began to sing somewhere behind her. The quiet but catchy jazz was accompanied by a piano, and Jennie smiled as she felt Lisa's foot begin to tap next to hers underneath the table.

Before she could comment, or ask Lisa about her usual taste in music, a glass appeared in front of her along with a bowl of olives.

"Une Rose...et un Soixante-quinze."

"Thought you said they didn't come pink with cherries?"

Jennie looked at the cocktail in front of her, and smiled in appreciation at the bright pink colour and the perfectly round cherry that rested at the bottom of the glass. "No, I said they didn't all come like that. Yours isn't."

Lisa still looked doubtful. "What's in it?"

"Vermouth, cherry brandy, and raspberry syrup. It was very popular with the Art Deco movement of the 1920s, but it's fallen out of fashion a bit."

"The twenties were a long time ago."

"And I never understand why, it's delicious."

Lisa took a deep breath, and raised her own tall, sparkling glass. "Here goes nothing."

They clinked glasses, and, as the singer finished the first song to a smattering of applause, took their first sips at the same time.

"Hmm. That is gorgeous." Jennie half-closed her eyes as the smooth, sweet drink slipped down her throat. It had been mixed perfectly, with just the right ratio of alcohol to syrup, and she was just beginning to enjoy the afterkick when she heard Lisa's exclamation.

"Holy crap!"

Jennie's eyes snapped open in alarm, but that quickly melted into amusement as she saw the expression on Lisa's face. The curse had been the result of one sip of the French 75, and Lisa was now looking at it as if it was a bomb that might explode at any second.

"Are you sure this stuff is legal?"

"I did warn you. We can swap if you don't like it."

Lisa looked at Jennie's cocktail with distaste. "No, it's ok. I didn't say I didn't like it, I just said..." She took another sip, and screwed up her face as she swallowed. "Wow. No, it's good."

Jennie laughed as she plucked an olive from the bowl.

"So, tell me about Italy."

Lisa had mentioned that she and Chitthip had been to Italy before they came to France since, although majority of her mother's family is in Italy, none of them had ever been. Neither had Jennie. It was perhaps a surprising omission in the list of places that she had visited, but she had just never had the opportunity. Despite the music and the buzz of conversation in the bar, their table was far enough into the corner that they could still talk comfortably, and Jennie tried not to stare as Lisa popped an olive into her mouth, leaning back in her chair while thinking about where to start.

"Amazing," she finally replied. "Hot, sunny, beautiful places, beautiful people."

Like you, you mean?

Jennie swallowed the words before she could inadvertently say them out loud.

"But also, kind of boring after a while." Lisa looked almost ashamed to admit it, but carried on regardless.

"We did Rome, and all the usual, you know, tourist sights. The Spanish Steps, and the Colosseum, and everything else, the museums and art galleries and stuff. Then we went on to Florence - because apparently Ma's family came from there - and that was almost exactly the same." She paused.

"Originally we were gonna have the whole two weeks in Italy. Paris was a bit of last minute decision just before we booked the flights, and I wasn't convinced, but...well." She shrugged.

"I'm glad we did that now."

Even Jennie couldn't miss the meaning behind those words.

"And, uh..." Jennie wasn't sure that she wanted to ask this question or rather, she wasn't sure that she would want to know the answer. "How long are you here for?"

"Another day. We fly back to Boston by Sunday afternoon."

"Oh."

That wasn't long at all.

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, each sipping their cocktails and lost in their own thoughts. Jennie wondered if Lisa's were anything like her - that she really, really liked this woman, despite knowing her for just twenty four hours. She wanted to spend more time with her, to show her all the nicest places in Paris, to have long, leisurely lunches and romantic dinners, and get to know her properly with all the little details that only a lover would know, and...

Wait.

She was getting completely carried away.

Taking a deep breath and looking around her, she could see that the bar was now crowded, and that some couples were dancing to the jazz in the small space in front of the piano. She wondered briefly - and then dismissed it.

"I'll need another one of these before I do that."

Jennie turned to see that Lisa had followed her gaze, and had obviously guessed what she was thinking. But it made them both smile, and broke the silence that had started to become heavy with the idea of Lisa having to leave just as something was starting.

Because Jennie felt like something really was starting. And she could tell that Lisa thought so too.

After that though, the conversation flowed just as it had done back in Jennie's apartment. They finished the cocktails, and although Lisa declined another 75 in favour of a beer, Jennie decided to let loose a bit and get another Rose while they both agreed on another bowl of olives and some plain popcorn. And it was then, halfway through that second round of drinks, that nature finally caught up with Jennie and she stood, bracing herself to push her way through the crowds to the ladies' bathroom.

"Bonsoir."

He was blocking her path halfway to the bar, and, as Jennie's eyes travelled upwards from the perfectly-muscular chest that was covered in a Ralph Lauren shirt, she had to resist the urge to groan out loud.

"Bonsoir, Jiyong."

Jiyong G-Dragon Kwon had been trying his luck with Jennie for the last five years, ever since he had moved back to Paris to live with his parents just down the street. He was good looking and knew it, and, when he wanted to be, was the epitome of French charm. When he didn't want to be, he was still nice enough and had actually always been very pleasant to Jennie, helping her out on a few occasions with various odd maintenance jobs. But he worked in the family fromagerie, and, as a result, he always held a faint smell of cheese.

Jennie, of course, had never told him that, and besides, it wasn't the only reason she had always refused his advances. Despite the fantastic body and the handiness with a screwdriver, there was something about him that just wasn't her type.

"Je peux vous offrir un verre?"

"Non, merci." Jennie forced a smile as she tried to wriggle her way around him.

"Juste une?"

"Jiyong..." Jennie sighed in exasperation, but he had already turned away from her and signalled the waiter. She looked around at Lisa, mouthing the words 'help me out here' just as Jiyong placed his hand on her arm and leaned in to say something in her ear.

Was that a faint hint of jealousy that mingled in with the amusement on Lisa's face?

Jennie turned back to Jiyong, not wanting to be totally rude but not wanting to encourage him either, and was just about to tell him that she was really here with a friend and that she