With his long stride, Dick skipped the first couple steps up towards the Metro entrance. Edith Sink had moved fast, but he slowed his pace at the sight of her willowy figure on the street level. As he emerged into the damp December air, she turned her back to him. 

"Lieutenant Sink, I had no idea you were in France-"

"I arrived about a week ago," she cut him off, pinning the glove buttons on the underside of her wrists. "I have been quite busy getting settled in over at Mourmelon."

Dick situated his cap. "You are at Mourmelon? Where are you being quart-"

"With a family in the village."

Dick wet his lips, unsure of how to continue the conversation. He scanned the empty streets steeped in night with the mandatory black out. The gate behind them clanged shut as a Metro attendant locked up for the evening.

Edith glanced over at him. "Enjoy your weekend, captain."

She strode out into the night as though she owned the city with her oxfords clicking against the cobblestones. Dick's brow furrowed. His old fashioned, Lancaster county upbringing couldn't let her walk home alone, even if she was capable of doing so. With a sigh, he jogged up to her as she marched onward.

"Lieutenant, where are you staying here in Paris?" he asked, pulling abreast of her.

"A little farther in the city."

"A long ways off?"

"Not too bad." She tucked her clutch tighter beneath her arm. "I can handle myself quite efficiently, thank you."

"I'm sure you can, but I can't help feel that your father would appreciate if you had an escort-"

"My father isn't here. I am a fully grown adult. You needn't trouble yourself."

"I was only going to say with the black out in a strange city, things might not be as easy-"

"I have a map and a book of French phrases with me. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Still, I am concerned-"

"Captain-"

"Lieutenant." 

Dick halted as his voice rose uncharacteristically in volume. He was tired of being cut off mid-sentence. He took a deep breath to quell the unfamiliar swell of frustration in his chest. She stared at him in the feeble moonlight, her eyes wide with astonishment at his tone.

"Lieutenant Sink, I hardly know where I am. It may benefit us both if we try to make it back to our separate hotels together," he reasoned evenly. "And to be honest, I wouldn't mind the company."

Edith hesitated, her stance relaxing. She narrowed her eyes at the street sign hanging over them. "I suppose it can't hurt. Two heads are better than one. I was thinking if we headed towards the Seine, it might lead us to the heart of the city."

Dick nodded, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "That sounds good to me. After you?"

Both were quiet as they traversed the deserted boulevards. Occupied only by street sweepers, stumbling serviceman perfumed with whiskey, and couples nuzzling in alleyways, it was surreal to think that Paris had once been called the city of lights. In the nest of a wartime blackout, the air was tense from the recent Nazi occupation. Soon, the sound of river water tumbled towards them. Wordlessly, they both turned in the direction of a narrow bridge.

"I think I see some stairs." Edith pointed towards a landing where a few Airmen disappeared out of sight.

"I think you are right."

They descended to the river walk, the Seine weaving a black ribbon of satiny water. Dick became lost in his thoughts and had nearly forgotten her silent presence when she stopped.

"Someone dropped a coin," she murmured, holding the piece up to the faint light of the half moon.

"A good luck sign?" he offered as she tucked it into her coat pocket.

"Perhaps."

Dick wondered if he should make an attempt at conversation. Talking with women, especially attractive ones, had never been a talent he possessed. He cleared his throat as they meandered down the bank.

"So how did you come to be in your position, working administrative duties?"

"I don't believe that really has anything to do with getting us home right now," she replied succinctly, her steps moving closer to the adjacent wall and away from him.

Dick smirked. Walking in silence suited him fine.

"After I graduated from college, there was an open administrative position and I was allowed a two week trial period. I have been working with the Army for almost four years now." Edith's taut tone of voice echoed as they passed beneath another bridge.

Dick glanced over, surprised by her response. "Where did you attend school?"

"Wellesley."

Instinctively, he slipped his hands in his pockets. Though a college graduate himself, it was far from as prestigious an establishment as Wellesley. He wondered for a moment if Edith would have been better off running into Lewis Nixon, a Yale man.

"How did you choose to join the Paratroopers?"

"It was more appealing to be in the best trained outfit in the Army. If I was going to war, I wanted to go with the best. I wanted to be able to trust the man in the foxhole next to me."

Edith nodded. "And now my father has you behind a desk."

Dick flinched at the recollection. "I don't see how you have managed years of paperwork and not gone mad."

He glanced over as a laugh slowly rose up in her and bubbled over like a fountain, her head tipping back. He couldn't help his grin at the surprising sight. 

"The minute I heard that you had been promoted to administrative work, I knew you would be tearing your hair out."

"But you don't even know me." He couldn't help commenting.

"It doesn't take too long in the service to know the difference between a born desk jockey and a man meant to be out in the field." She met his eyes and lifted her eyebrows. "Tell me I'm wrong. You wish to God that you were still out there with your men."

Struck dumb by her observation, he managed a nod. "It's been an adjustment."

The hot scent of food perfumed a breeze of cool river mist. Both of them paused. Dick wondered if she had missed dinner as well.

"I didn't think there would be any place still open," he mused, looking towards a set of stairs leading up to the street.

"Me neither." Edith's pace drifted towards the staircase. She peeked over at him. "Would you mind if we stopped and got something to eat? I haven't had anything since lunch."

Dick nodded with relief, unable to ignore his empty stomach any longer. "I thought you'd never ask."

Squat, tallow candles glowed on the bare tables brought in from the street. Several other couples trying to catch a late night meal to soak up the alcohol flirted and giggled around them. There wasn't a menu, rather the young waiter recited several options from the kitchen in broken English.

After receiving their cups of coffee, the air between them grew stale. Dick wondered if it had been a good idea to leave the river side. He could have handled being hungry until morning, he had done it before during battle. Now sitting across from Edith with a dry mouth and a blank mind, he cursed his stomach.

"Where are you from, captain?" Edith ventured after an unpleasantly long stretch of silence.

As he peered up from his coffee, he found her gaze to be as direct as her father's. Her hazel eyes were unnerving in their perception. She shifted in her seat as she crossed her legs, waiting for his answer to such a simple question.

"Pennsylvania." He took a bitter sip of black coffee. "You?"

"Everywhere really. So goes the life of a military family, I suppose."

"Is there any place that feels like home to you?"

The question was rather personal, but Dick couldn't help wondering. She paused, caught off guard by the query. Resting her elbow on the table, she leaned her long neck into the palm of her hand.

"I suppose that's why I wanted to get a job with the Army. As silly as it sounds, the military has always been the closest thing to home for me. It's what I know best."

"Do you have any other family?"

"My mother and two younger sisters live in the states."

"Are they in the same line of work?"

Edith snorted, pouring a watery dash of powdered milk into her coffee. "Not exactly. My sisters are housewives."

Dick nodded as the food was brought out. Boiled white fish with very little pepper steamed next to what the waiter had called "fresh" garden vegetables. Clearly, considering it was mid-December, the cooked peppers and onions had been straight from the can. However, they were both too hungry to pay mind to the discrepancy.

"I'm surprised, captain."

Dick swallowed. "Surprised by what? The vegetables?"

Edith laughed. "No, that you didn't dive right into the next obvious question."

"And what would that be?" Dick took another bite of his fish and rested his hand on the table.

"What a nice girl like me is doing in the WACs instead of getting married off like my sisters." Edith's gaze flitted up from her plate. "It's usually next on the interrogation."

"Doesn't really matter what you do with yourself as long as you do it well." Dick shrugged, turning back to his plate.

Edith set down her utensils and patted her mouth with her napkin. "What do you mean?"

"It seems to me that you are very good at what you do. I think you need a certain kind of brain to manage all that paperwork the Brass hands you daily." He reached for his glass of water. "I can't lie. It's impressive how well you handle it."

After a moment of quiet, he peered up at her in the yellow candlelight. Edith had leveled her gaze on him again, a softness around her mouth that hadn't been present earlier.

She wore no lipstick. Her mouth had a clearly defined bow to her upper lip. He wondered if that was why she didn't wear the lipstick, so that such a feminine feature could go undetected by her male counterparts. As her eyes skittered away and she brushed away a strand of hair from her face, he realized he had been staring.

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat. "I have just never been told that before. How are- how are you liking your meal?"

"I won't go hungry." He grinned.

Edith chuckled softly, her eyes dancing up to him. "So much for the reputation of French food, I suppose."

It was after midnight by the time they stumbled upon their respective hotels. Dick's eyes felt gritty with exhaustion, but he was reluctant to let their evening end. After dinner, their conversation had deepened as they had walked by the river. He found he enjoyed Edith Sink's company very much.

They paused outside the canopied entry to where she was staying. The conversation came to a screeching halt as they faced one another.

"Thank you for seeing me back," she offered lamely in the dark, the moon overhead shedding a strange glow on her features. "I appreciate the help. I hope you can forgive me for being hard headed initially."

He shook his head, his hands folded behind his back. "I'm glad I could be of service."

"When are you heading back to Mourmelon?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. You?"

"The morning train. I can leave later if I want." Her tone was open ended though tentative.

Dick's eyes dropped to the cobblestones. "If you would like, there is a café near my hotel with a great view of the Eiffel Tower. We could meet there for a cup of coffee around 9?"

The skin on the back of his neck tingled as she hesitated in the dark. He hoped he hadn't read her tone incorrectly.

"Yes, I would like that."

He exhaled and smiled. "I'll see you in the morning then. It's right around the corner, Café de la Fleur Rouge."

She nodded. "Good night then."

The next morning, after a good night's sleep and a bath, Dick found himself sitting alone at one of the tables on the sidewalk. By 10:30 AM, he concluded she was not coming. Leaving a franc on the table, he made his way back to his room to pack up and leave for Mourmelon.