TIME WARP: Showing your face again (Lucy)

[Dominique Chevalier]

The international airport in Paris was crowded, but then, it was always like that, and 10 pm was a prime time for arrivals. Dom despised crowds, he had never changed in that respect, though he had become significantly better at masking that distain. Still, when it could be avoided it was, and so it was a man in the peaked cap of a chauffeur with the Chevalier Global emblem on his breast pocket who held up a sign for Ms Serrano.

It was the first time it had said Ms, not Miss.

Dom had been invited to the wedding, of course. He was, as he often pointed out, Lucy's artistic patron, and so was partially responsible for the fact that the wedding was such a huge affair.

His car was waiting out the front of the airport in the collection area, the driver striding ahead of the recently wedded australian to put away her bags and open the door for her.

Inside, Dom was waiting. His hair was still pale, pale enough that the slight traces of premature white at his temples were practically invisible. Legs crossed, in a suit that spoke money as loudly as if it was made of cloth-of-gold instead of dark charcoal italian wool, the young man was cradling a silver bucket wrapped in a white napkin. The sun roof was open, and the minute the door was closed behind Lucy, the cork was popped off and soared up into the mild Parisian night.

"Congratulations," he said by way of greeting. "Champagne? Don't worry, I didn't put myself." Setting down the bucket in the nearby holder, he hooked two glassed out by the stems and held one out towards her. He would move to brush both his cheeks to hers, as the French did and then leant back to pour her a glass of the sparkling golden liquid.

"I have seven cases of this stuff," he added, leaning back and putting the bottle back on ice. "Thanks for that, by the way. It was left over from the wedding."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy wasn't oblivious to the way things had turned out once she and Penny completely bailed on their extravagantly planned wedding. She experienced a ridiculous two weeks where nothing but the woman she married mattered, and it was the closest thing to perfection she knew. Two weeks where so much of the world didn't exist.

Which was good. Because the moment she got home, things around her started falling to pieces. People were falling apart. Relationships. But at least it was around them, and not them.

Still, having to leave was absolute torture. As much as she didn't want to, she knew she had to. Saying goodbye to Penny was always a pain now, but at least it was inevitable that she'd come back to her.

In Paris, though, Lucy noticed a change right away. Of course Dom never greeted her at the airport - it was always someone else. She recognised the emblem, never the face. But the name change distracted her. He was being clever. So she grinned about it, because that's how it felt. Amusing. As much as she didn't need the door opened for her, she knew by now that there was no arguing the fact. So she waited. But what greeted her was a surprise.

Dom. There. In the back of a limo. Waiting for her. Looking as glorious as ever; especially in comparison to the parka-clad, skinny jean wearing artist who worked for him.

Her mouth pressed into a line at his greeting. Not because she was angry, but because she wanted to laugh. Still, she couldn't stop herself from taking the glass he offered to her. The Australian instinctively leaned close when he brushed his cheeks against hers, inhaling the way he smelt instantly. It was still the same scent she always remembered. That never changed within his age.

"Dad let you take seven cases?" She asked, raising her eyebrows, "Surprised he didn't try to smuggle it out for himself."

Truthfully, she was still surprised he even showed up. Were it not for the messages he sent that she received when she got back home, she would have been more expressive on the subject. But he knew she knew.