Elise

The café was exactly as he had left it.

But Moreau knew better than to think nothing had changed.

Because he had changed.

And so had the way people looked at him.

The last time he was here, Renaud had walked in, tossed a summons onto his table, and announced to the entire café that he was being sent to Paris for a disciplinary hearing.

Moreau didn't need to be a spy to know that everyone had spent the past few weeks speculating about what had happened to him.

He could feel it in the way heads turned as he walked past, the subtle hush of conversations shifting, the lingering stares from some of the more frequent patrons.

But he wasn't here for them.

He was here for her.

Elise Marchand was behind the counter, drying a glass, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, she didn't move.

Didn't say a word.

Then, finally, she set the glass down, untied her apron, and walked straight toward him.

"You're back," she said, her voice as sharp as ever.

Moreau smirked slightly, pulling out a chair and draping his coat over the back of it. "You almost sound surprised."

Elise didn't smile.

She didn't even sit.

Instead, she crossed her arms and stared him down.

"You disappeared," she said flatly. "You got dragged to Paris by the disciplinary committee, and then nothing. You came back but never really came here. No letters, no messages, not even some half-assed excuse. And now, after weeks, you just stroll back in like it's any other night?"

Moreau sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You make it sound like I had a choice."

Elise's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you?"

Moreau leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't?"

Elise scoffed. "No."

Moreau chuckled. "Then I guess I'm out of luck."

Elise rolled her eyes, but she didn't walk away. Instead, she pulled out the chair opposite him, sat down, and rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm.

"You have five minutes to explain yourself before I decide whether I should throw you out or pour you a drink."

Moreau exhaled, shaking his head. "Straight to the point."

"You're not charming your way out of this one, Capitaine."

Moreau smirked. "Good to know where we stand."

She didn't return the smirk. "So?"

Moreau poured himself a glass of wine, taking a slow sip before speaking. "Paris wasn't as dramatic as it sounded."

Elise arched an eyebrow. "A disciplinary committee summons doesn't sound dramatic to you?"

"Not when you know the army," Moreau muttered, setting his glass down.

Elise tapped her fingers against the table, studying him. "Let me guess. Clément tried to get rid of you, and the army decided you weren't worth the trouble?"

Moreau exhaled. "Something like that. The War Ministry shut it down before it could go anywhere. Everything was swept under the rug."

Elise tilted her head slightly. "And you? Are you just going to accept that?"

Moreau smirked slightly. "Do I seem like the type?"

She scoffed. "No. That's the problem."

There was something in her tone not quite irritation, not quite amusement.

Something closer to concern.

Moreau wasn't sure what to do with that.

"Did people talk while I was gone?" he asked, changing the subject.

Elise smirked. "You want the short version or the entertaining one?"

Moreau chuckled. "Whichever one gets me my drink faster."

Elise leaned back in her chair. "Some of your fellow officers were certain you'd been sent to a prison somewhere. Others thought you were finally being promoted just to keep you quiet. One man swore you had been recruited into intelligence and were already in Berlin seducing German spies."

Moreau raised an eyebrow. "I like that one. Makes me sound much more exciting than reality."

Elise chuckled. "And then there were the ones who didn't care where you went, just that you were gone."

Moreau smirked. "Let me guess Clément's people?"

Elise shrugged. "Like I said, people talk. Some of them think you're arrogant. That you don't respect the way things are done."

Moreau exhaled, swirling his glass. "And what do you think?"

Elise studied him carefully, her eyes sharp. "I think you're a man who knows he's right but hasn't figured out how to prove it yet."

Moreau chuckled, shaking his head. "You have said the same thing when we met last time."

"Aren't you, maybe it's not me who is repeating it but it's you who have personified it."

He hesitated, started thinking about his previous life and this life.

Everything is so confusing but here he is in 1935 France trying to charm a girl to get under her Skirt.

He sometimes wonder what will he achieve or will he even achieve anything.

"Maybe"

She studied him for a moment, then finally sighed, reaching for the bottle and pouring herself a drink.

"Fine," she muttered, taking a slow sip. "But next time you disappear, you owe me more than one drink."

Moreau smirked. "I'll take that as permission to disappear again."

Elise rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"You keep talking to me, though."

Elise exhaled dramatically. "Unfortunately, yes."

Moreau chuckled.

By the time the café closed for the night, it was silent all around.

Elise stepped outside, pulling her scarf around her shoulders.

Moreau was leaning against the railing just beyond the entrance, hands in his coat pockets.

"You waited," she noted.

Moreau smirked. "I told you I wasn't running away."

Elise studied him for a moment. "You always say that, but you don't seem like someone who stays in one place for long."

Moreau exhaled. "Maybe some places are worth staying in."

Elise raised an eyebrow. "And Verdun is one of them?"

Moreau glanced at her. "Maybe."

She smirked. "You should work on being less mysterious, Capitaine."

"I thought that was part of my charm."

Elise laughed softly, shaking her head. "So what now?"

Moreau exhaled, watching the dimly lit street ahead of them. "I don't know. The War Ministry shut things down, but that doesn't mean it's over. And Clément isn't the type to let go of a grudge."

Elise nodded. "No. He isn't. But I guess you have more bigger problems the. Clément."

They stood in silence for a moment, the river below them reflecting the faint glow of the streetlamps.

"You think things are going to get worse," Elise said finally.

Moreau didn't answer right away. Then, quietly, he said, "I know they will."

Elise sighed. "Then I hope you know what you're doing."

Moreau gave a small, tired smile. "So do I."

They started walking again.