Quarry

[Veritas]

Henri's mouth turned down into a frown.

"It sounds like a clinical diagnosis of an ailment when you speak of it."

He took one of the cups offered.

"I am not sure many can appreciate your panache for the so-called long view. In the end, few may survive to do just that."

[Evelyn Cato]

"I suppose. It's something one learns to see after so many years of watching."

The tea was a soft blend, one of her own that she'd perfected in her years, and taking her own cup, she moved past him. A hand reached up however as she paused momentarily, and Evelyn turned his head so that their eyes locked.

"You are a Frenchman, Henri. You have many passions," she gave a light kiss to his cheek, "... but pessimism is not one of them no matter how old you are or how jaded with life you may feel yourself to be."

[Veritas]

"Life is always open to the pursuit of a new hobby."

He smirked, and sipped his tea. He had never taken to the stuff, and was a firm coffee drinker. Still, he drank what he was offered.

"It is not so strange to me. After all, I was once Gendarmerie. Suspecting the worst is as a pig roots for truffles. Occasionally you find the most pleasant thing on earth, but only after spending hours digging through dirt and merde."

[Evelyn Cato]

She smiled, giving a nod as she sipped her tea. Leading him back into the main living area of her rooms, Evelyn gestured to the sofa. Her small glass was set on the low coffee table, and she pulled a large, leatherbound photo album from beneath. This she set in her lap.

"Come and sit. I wish to show you something."

[Veritas]

"A history lesson?"

He cast an amused expression at her as he sat opposite. With Evelyn, history often did feature into her discussion.

He sipped at her tea, and finally surmising that he had put on enough of a show of it, set the teacup and saucer aside on the table in deference to looking at his ageless companion's photographs.

[Evelyn Cato]

"In its' on way."

She opened the cover, letting slender fingers trace down the clear plastic covering of pictures that seemed more recent; pictures that had only been taken within the last few years.

The further back she turned each page, the further back in time each photograph took them. Rome, Sicily, Venice, Siberia, St. Petersburg; there were even a few pages of a much younger Henri. These she couldn't help but smile at, and passing a hand over one of them, gave him a sidelong grin.

"Do you remember when this picture was taken?"

[Veritas]

He reached forward, taking hold of a corner of the book to pivot it for a better look. Judging by the cut of his clothes and the boxy-looking Peugot in the background of one of the pictures, it helped narrow things.

"Either 1982 or 83. I had just joined service I believe."

[Evelyn Cato]

Still that phantom grin, and Evelyn once more set to turning back time.

She stopped when she reached the beginning of a distinct set of black and white pictures. There was no mistaking when these had been taken, or the face of the woman now sitting beside him.

Now she was healthy, full of life and vigor. Yet, in the photograph she was starved and emaciated, her cheekbones prominent and her limbs rail thin. The camera had managed to catch the life still within her eyes, buried though it had been.

And behind that Evelyn Cato, mounted in overhanging metal, was a single word.

Dachau

[Veritas]

Henri stiffened at the sight of that. Of course she was ageless, so it should not be surprising that she should experience humanity at the peaks of its transcendence, and the valleys of its depravity.

After a moment, he found words.

"What brought you to that terrible place?"

[Evelyn Cato]

She sat quietly, her eyes on the start black and white photographs for a few moments before lifting up to take him in.

Finally, she spoke.

"You do not wish to know how it happened, only that it did."

Leaning back against the soft cushions of the sofa, Evelyn folded her hands into her lap. She watched as he turned each page, shedding light on horrors that seemed to only get worse with each picture. She herself was in most of them, though there were a few that her presence was absent.

"We each live through times that would otherwise strike out the hope and optimism that many keep within themselves.

"You cannot allow men who act through hatred and fear of the unknown to destroy your hopes for a better future."

[Veritas]

The more he looked, the more he reviled what he saw. Massaging at his temples, Henri eventually turned away from the sight.

"Did it seem so bleak, on the eve? Before those terrible times? I know there's wisdom in your experience. I'm not ignorant of history's lessons, but I'm faced with the present and it is perhaps easy to despair."

[Evelyn Cato]

"It was an eventuality that was bound to happen. I certainly could not stop it, nor would I if the ability was there.

"The only thing we can do is prepare. Prepare ourselves and prepare those around us."

An uplifting smile touched her lips.

"But amidst that, before the horrors begin, we cannot forget to stop every once in a while and enjoy what we have for the time we're allowed. It's a simple action that helps beyond what most would think."

[Veritas]

Not content to dwell on the metaphysics, Henri's brow knit.

"If only I was able to find one of these troublemakers. I would ask them a great many questions."

[Evelyn Cato]

"Henri stop."

It wasn't so much a plea as it was a gentle order. Leaning forward, Evelyn closed the album and pushed it to the side.

"You have found yourself in the lull before whatever storm will be raining down upon our heads. Take advantage of it... "

She smiled then, rising to stand. She'd not been so blind as to see that his old preference for coffee hadn't died.

"... and take me out for coffee."

[Veritas]

Relieved at this, Henri's thin smile emerged momentarily.

"I know a place that will do."

He extended a hand to her own. There was still enough daylight to spend a few hours out, and it would do them both good to take advantage of the fresh air.