170 Rue Mazarine: Madeleine's Apartment

[The Exodus]

Madeleine de Chandon

They were Felix Unger and Oscar What’s-His-Face, Lucian and Valter. If Madeleine had to pick an Odd Couple of the people she knew, it would be them. Serious, sober Lucian with fun, spunky Valter… She couldn’t envision them as friends. Envisioning Valter as part of the wedding party was an even bigger stretch for her. Ashton insisted her boyfriend… fiancée… husband… Lucian was fun and youthful, but everything that Madeleine had seen of him was pure business. Were they in business together? Valter and Lucian, not Ashton and Lucian.

Valter joined her at the table and took a cigarette and the lighter. They smoked in silence for a moment and Valter’s arm snaked around Madeleine’s midriff. She rested her head against his collarbone happily.

"If I remember correctly, I was on some Eiffel Tower tour and Lucian turned it into quite an adventure. We ended up drinking on the top of the Eiffel Tower."

Madison. That was it. Oscar Madison. Valter was the Oscar Madison to Lucian’s Felix Unger.

And yet, if Lucian was turning lame-o tourist traps into adventures and bedding a woman half his age, maybe he wasn’t such a stiff. Madeleine supposed she’d misjudged her best friend’s beloved. Actually, it was reassuring that Lucian was friends with Valter. It showed that the Brit had a pulse and that the Swede was more than just drinking games and sex appeal.

“Mm,” Madeleine murmured. “And I’m supposed to believe it wasn’t your idea to go drinking on top of the Eiffel Tower?”

[Deleted]

Valter Gottfrid

The Swede leaned a bit forward, kissing the top of Madeleine's head and squeezing her around the middle just a bit. He was very comfortable with her in his arms, or in this case arm. Valter took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke away the Madeleine. It wasn't like it really matted, she was a smoker too but he wasn't the type to blow smoke in anyone's face or in someone's eyes by accident.

“Mm,” Madeleine murmured. “And I’m supposed to believe it wasn’t your idea to go drinking on top of the Eiffel Tower?”

Valter laughed. "No, that wouldn't be like me at all!" he retorted sarcastically. Smiling down at her he spoke again, "In all reality, it really was Lucian's idea. I feel I would have suffered a terribly boring tour otherwise. Although, I might know something about the Eiffel tower."

Valter smirked, slowly half dancing with with Madeleine, leading her in slow circles, swaying and humming to some nonsense made up tune.

[The Exodus]

Madeleine de Chandon

Why hadn’t they had this conversation before? Madeleine supposed she and Valter didn’t talk about much, but still. Why hadn’t their awkward sitcom meet-cute (take two) happened sooner? Madeleine wondered if it was lucky or unlucky that they hadn’t both turned up for dinner at the Michaud house or—perhaps worse—been fixed up on a blind date by well-meaning friends. It all would have ended the same, sweet and sweaty way.

Madeleine shut her eyes and conjured an image of Valter scaling the side of the Eiffel Tower, a bottle of wine swinging from one hand as the other pulled him up. In this vision, he was shirtless as he was now and sunbaked. Glistening and spiky, his blond hair was tousled by the wind. Below, crowds watched as the determined, seemingly-mad Swede made his way towards the top like some sort of sexy reinterpreted King Kong.

"No, that wouldn't be like me at all!" Valter insisted with a smirk in his voice. "In all reality, it really was Lucian's idea. I feel I would have suffered a terribly boring tour otherwise. Although, I might know something about the Eiffel tower."

And at that, Valter pulled Madeleine away from the table and twirled her around gently. A sleepy, silly little dance. Madeleine pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and rested it on the ashtray at the edge of the table. Her hands came and looped over Valter’s shoulders.

“Oh, please,” Madeleine said with a lazy grin. “It’s just my hometown’s homage to the male anatomy. And I’ve seen more impressive. Like last night.”