Wined and dined..

[Arabella Balfour]

She was quite at home, sitting amoung her friends and a plethora of hat boxes, parcels and bags. Setting down a flute of champange, Arabella laughed and hit the intercom to speak to the chauffeur. "We just passed Saint-Germain? Yes, I think we are ready to stop for a bite. Take us to one of the nicer places. La Tour d'Argent will be wondeful. Do call ahead for seating, give them Byron's name and I'll calll him and let him know where to find us."

She flopped back into her seat and laughed. They had all changed clothes so many times as to be ridiculous. Each shop they had entered had had yet another ensemble that just couldn't be done without. Most of the boxes had already been sent ahead to Fiona's rooms and Arabella's home. Arabella admired her reflection in the window. She had found, what she deemed "the perfect little black dress" and indulged in a new ruby choker.

Wiggling an eyebrow at Fiona and Michele she switched over to the car phone and dialed Byron. He didn't answer, but she left a message for him, telling him where his trio of Goddesses would be dining.

"Alright Michele, get ready to fall in love with French food, or wind up with gout tomorrow." Arabella lifted her glass in salute and took a sip.

"Kidding of course. The cusine is unrivaled, you'll love it."

[Michele Hawkins]

My mind has literally been blown to pieces. I thought Fiona doting upon me was extreme to the Nth. But no. Arabella has made up for the time she hadn't meet me and then some. I think I have an entire new wardrobe ... I tried to protest too but Arabella wouldn't hear anything of it. And much like Fiona, I think my words went in one ear and out the other in regards to gifts.

"And at least this time I'll be able to read the menu!" I say with such pride as I elbow Fiona. "She always likes to trick me and I end up ordering spicy food all the time."

[Fiona Devlin]

"Uhhh!! That is such a lie, Michele Hawkins!" she cried.

:: Fiona looked at Arabella with wide-eyed innocence ::

"She took a bite of chicken curry from my plate before I could stop her, and she's held a vendetta ever since!"

:: She squeaked as Michele jabbed her in the side ::

[Arabella Balfour]

Chuckling, Arabella accepted the hand of the chaffeur and stepped out of the limo, waiting for her friends. The historical restaurant was abuzz with the elite citizens of Paris and sight seeing upperclasses. They were greeted with enthusiasm and shown immediately to a table with a gorgeous view of the illuminated city. A stringed quartet played softly nearby and their table glowed with the warmth of candle light. After each of them had been seated they were given the wine selection to peruse.

She hadn't recieved a return call from Byron, but he wasn't one to dissapoint. Handsome devil that he was, he'd likely make a grand entrance. Arabella smiled and settled into her seat.

"Now we wait.."

[Byron Legard]

A murmur of disquiet moved through the restaurant, and Arabella instinctively looked up, knowing the source. Byron, dressed rather out of character in a sharp black suit that seemed to bulge around his frame, was speaking with the maître d'hôtel. The two exchanged words, with the Prince clapping the little man on the shoulder with one large hand as the host gestured to the way to Legard's reserved table, which was already occupied by three young women.

“Bonsoir...” Byron smiled, lips pressed together. In formal attire, with his usually wild hair gathered into a smoothed ponytail, he cut a surprisingly dapper figure. He looked to Arabella. “Je m’excuse d’etre en retard.”

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona stood up, giving Byron a customary bow of respect ::

"It's good to see you again, my Prince."

[Michele Hawkins]

Prince? Holy crap. Byron was the Prince of Paris? Gah!!!

I felt Fiona tug on my sleeve. Oh yeah. I stand up too and bow awkwardly. "Thanks for having us."

I'm soooo glad that we got some nice clothes along the way. My jeans and sweatshirt had been replaced along the way with a navy blazer, pants and black blouse along the way. My ratty gym shoes were actually thrown out and I was given a nice pair of flat black shoes instead. At least I look like I belong here eating with the Prince eventho I couldn't feel more out of place.

[Arabella Balfour]

Arabella rose as well, although she moved around the table to press a quick kiss to Byron's cheek. "Vous êtes pardonné.. My Prince.."

"May I present, Michele Hawkins. Recently arrived to Paris and enjoying the delights of your fair city.."

Arabella returned to her seat with a knowing grin. It was impossible not to be impressed by Byron. His size and strength were rivaled by the sense of power that emanated from him. He was the sort you did not want to cross. Thankfully through it all, Arabella never had. She respected the Prince of Paris above all others and didn't think she would ever get over the sight of him.

[Byron Legard]

“Enchanté, Michele.” Byron gave a small nod, looking the girl over with an appreciative eye. They all took their seats, though the waiters did not yet attend their table, knowing that they would appreciate a little while to get settled.

“To what, or who,” he asked of the two Americans, glancing for a moment to Arabella, “do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

[Fiona Devlin]

"I came out of a concern for Arabella, but the nature of it is something I believe you know." she replied bluntly.

[Michele Hawkins]

Oooooookay. Here is where I shut up and let Fiona do all the talking because I can now affirm I have absolutely no idea what's going on.

Hey water! I think I might drink that ...

[Arabella Balfour]

She answered the question in Byron's eyes with a subtle shake of her head. She hadn't mentioned anything, not even to someone as trusted as Fiona.

"After our conversation the other night, I gave Fiona a ring. I was curious to see how things were fairing in Chicago. When she wasn't satisfied that I would be fine, she decided to drop in to check on us personally."

She wasn't at all bothered by the visit. Pleasantries aside, having an ally like Fiona around would be extremely beneficial. Byron would likely agree with her on that point. She smiled.

"But I shall defer to Byron on an update of the situation." She would let the Prince judge how much information he wanted made public knowledge.

[Byron Legard]

Byron did not frown though there was something in his eyes, as he looked to Arabella, that suggested displeasure.

“Your concern would be better invested in your homeland, Fiona.”

[Fiona Devlin]

"Oh? Are the Romans after it again?"

:: her tone was sarcastic, but her demeanor was sincere ::

"Don't shut me out, Byron. Not this time."

[Michele Hawkins]

My eyes watch Byron and Fiona over the rim of the glass. And yeah, this water is mighty fine ...

[Arabella Balfour]

"Michele!" Arabella swiveled in her seat and turned her attention on the pretty American.

"How about we go visit the wine cellars personally while Fiona and Byron play catch up..?" She knew that look from the Prince. He was displeased.

He would just have to realize that Fiona knew her too well to be cozened into believeing that nothing was wrong. She hadn't really meant to send for Fiona, but neither would she waste time lamenting her sudden arrival.

She would leave them alone to speak on private matters. Besides Michele didn't look entirely comfortable anyways and could likely use a few minutes. Arabella slid out of her seat and took the girls hand with a grin.

[Byron Legard]

Byron's jaw became tight. It was no secret that the Prince of Paris had a temper as changeable as the weather, liable to flare at the slightest provocation. He watched as Arabella lead the young Michele away before returning his attention to Fiona.

“Word arrived, a short while ago, that the Sabbat of the eastern bloc have designs to take over Britain. Attacks have already begun, and are reported to be getting worse... though I have heard nothing from Gabriel himself to confirm or deny such rumors.”

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona's eyes narrowed. Her hatred of the Sabbat was well known to her old lover. Thirteen years ago, the Sabbat had ignited a war in Chicago. The Gangrel antitribu, Phillipe Rigaud, had barely escaped her, though he had not been heard from since ::

"I don't suppose it can get any worse, can it?" she replied.

[Byron Legard]

Byron gave a hmmph, a derisive laugh.

“Come now, Fiona. It can always get worse. The Sabbat, in London... only last year even Malkav would have thought it preposterous.”

[Michele Hawkins]

As Arabella wisked me away, I get the feeling that some grown up talk was going on that my baby Immortal ears weren't allowed to hear. Ah well. I better get used to it and look upon a grand opporunity to get to know our hostess better!

"How did you a Fiona meet?" Hopefully my question will be a pleasant surprise then the snooping youngin' who's sticking her nose in business that wasn't her problem.

[Arabella Balfour]

Arabella tucked her arm through Michele's as the two strolled through the historic building and down to the cellars. She wasn't sure if there was time enough for the whole tale of how she first met Fiona tonight. Theirs was a long history.

"I promise to tell you the long version, at great length, leaving the sordid details in. However I think its far too long for our brief escape to the cellar. The short version is that Fiona has saved my rear on more than one occasion. She has a habbit of being there when one needs her." Arabella smiled fondly and released Michele's arm.

"Oh and don't worry about Byron, he's vexed with me, not you. He is usually only scarey when he has to be. In fact he is one of the more charming individuals I've had the pleasure of calling 'friend.' "

[Fiona Devlin]

"When did you last speak with him?"

[Byron Legard]

“I haven't spoken to Gabriel directly for...” Byron paused for thought. “A month or two, perhaps. Everything from London has been written, or passed on by one of the Primogen. He's been... busy. Both of us have.”

[Fiona Devlin]

:: She nibbled on her lip again, a sign of restlesness, and waited for Byron to speak again ::

[Arabella Balfour]

She paused in her assessment. "On second thought, let me rephrase. You have no reason to be afraid. You are a guest, a welcome one. The unwelcomed ones..", she shrugged.

"..they...do not last long. You can be assured that Byron, when crossed, is anything but charming. Aha!" Arabella ran a fingertip over a bottle and gave it a light tap, signifying that she had made a selection. It was removed and taken away to be served to them at their table.

"What is your preference, Michele..?" She said the young lady's name softly, invitingly, enticing her to pick whatever was her fancy.

[Michele Hawkins]

Well, I guess I'm grateful for being on the welcomed list. That usually comes with being Fiona's girlfriend. Course, on the other side of the coin, there's those that want to hurt me because I am her girlfriend. Lord knows I've had my share in recent memory.

"Preference?" What the hell's she asking me that for? OOOH! She meant the wine. Idiot. "I'm not really the connoisseur of wine. That's more Fiona's expertise. I kinda just you know ..." I smile stupid, since I sound stupid. All this fancy smancy stuff is way outta my league. "... go with the flow. I'm sure whatever you picked out will be great."

[Arabella Balfour]

Turning her face away, Arabella smiled. She wasn't laughing at Michele, in fact she found her extremely charming. She was so fresh and unsure, it was nice to be around someone not yet jaded and cynical. She kept moving along the rows until she found a wine that seemed distinctively Michele. A blush, with a soft fruit flavour, enhanced with a vanilla undertone. Far different from the deep red, spiced with blackberry and clove that she had chosen for herself.

"We'll start with these. We can always make another selection if they aren't pleasing." She gave the second bottle a tap and then turned around to smile at Michele reassuringly.

"I think we've given them long enough to catch up, yes? Let's go brighten up the somber mood with our esteemed company?"

[Michele Hawkins]

"I dunno Arabella," I start to say as we make our way up from the wine cellar, "Hopefully we won't be interrupting anything important when we return."

I giggle a little as we get to the top of the stairs. "I guess we'll know by the silence, or lack there of, when we reach the table."

I really liked Arabella a lot. She had a charm about her that put me at ease, plus she didn't think I was stupid with my behavior. Huge bonus points there.

[Byron Legard]

“Greta wrote to me recently. She told me that he has taken a... concubine, I suppose would be the word for it. A kine woman.”

Byron frowned. “Needless to say, his people haven't taken well to the idea. The way Greta speaks of it, he spends all of his time doting on her, forgetting that he has a city to govern.”

He paused and reclined, the chair creaking under the pressure. “He is loosing favour among the Primogen...”

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona frowned in thought, not noticing Michele and Arabella as they returned ::