


One Paris Night

by hoopznyoyo



Category: Undercovers
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-07
Updated: 2010-12-13
Packaged: 2014-07-25 12:43:27
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,911
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6536914/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2520441/hoopznyoyo
Summary: This is a prequel to my French Connection story.





	1. Chapter 1

French intelligence agent Germaine D'Aubet sat at a large conference table with Guillaume Leroux, her "handler". She was being briefed on the upcoming assignment she would be working on.

"The Americans are sending one of their agents in to work on this," Guillaume informed her.

"Do they think we can't handle it?" she asked with an edge in her voice. "Is it Nash again?"

"I think they just want to have their hands in things," he answered. "Their agent Nash is undercover in Germany so they're sending someone else, a Steven Bloom. Here's his file. Is there a problem with Leo Nash?"

"Not at all," Germaine told him as she quickly scanned through the folder. "Nash and I work well together now that we've gotten used to each other. Leo tends to rush right into things and plan later. I'm assuming Bloom will exercise more caution, especially since he doesn't know me. So you may have to allow an extra day or two."

"Germaine, if there is ever a problem with one of their agents putting you in danger let me know and I'll pull you out immediately. We don't need a repeat of two years ago." Leroux stated firmly. He was fond of Germaine and had personally recommended her for fieldwork. When she developed into one of their top undercover agents he felt a smug satisfaction and bit of personal responsibility for her safety.

"Don't worry. I can handle Nash or Bloom or whomever else they send. As long as you don't expect me to follow their lead arbitrarily, we'll be fine," she replied surely. "I'll leave a note at Steven Bloom's hotel and meet with him tonight. I'll be ready to leave tomorrow morning at nine, if that's okay."

"I'll have a car come by and pick you up," Leroux told her. "Bonne chance."

Germaine was seated at La Cloche d'Or and asked that the gentleman joining her be shown to the table when he arrived. As she waited for Steven Bloom to appear she enjoyed a large cup of tea and indulged in a crème brulee. The café was Germaine's safe haven. She returned there after working undercover to relax in its comfortable familiarity. Until now she had never met anyone at La Cloche d'Or even her colleagues at the Paris office, preferring to keep the café her personal sanctuary. Feeling reckless, Germaine decided to meet Steven Bloom there.

American CIA agent Steven Bloom arrived at the café at the exact time specified in the note waiting for him at his hotel and looked around. He knew he would be working with a French agent but was given no other details. His handler warned him the French weren't always eager to share information. As the waiter led him to a table in the back of the café he tried to see just who his contact was. The note left for him was signed only with a letter G.

"I'm glad you got my message," Germaine said as the waiter stopped at the table. "Please, sit down. I hope your flight was okay."

"The flight was fine. The movie could've been better," Steven replied as the waiter walked away and looked across the table at his contact. Her light brown hair was styled in a sleek bob just above her shoulders with bangs that framed large, expressive blue eyes the color of the Mediterranean. A single blue stone that matched her eyes hung from a glittering chain around her long neck and full lips formed a mischievous half smile as she studied him. She was still angry an American agent was being sent in to work with her on the op, even if he was almost impossibly attractive.

Germaine extended her hand and introduced herself, "Germaine D'Aubet. It's nice to meet you, Agent Bloom. The photo in your file really doesn't do you justice. You may want to think about giving them a new one." She was being totally honest; he was much more handsome than his photo. The headshot also didn't convey the full effect of an athletic six foot three inches and what Germaine estimated to be two hundred pounds give or take. If they had met at the café under different circumstances she would definitely pursue a relationship with him, but she had rules about getting involved with colleagues.

"You saw my file? I didn't get one on you," he said and Germaine could hear a slight bitterness to his words. "The only thing I could get was information on our directives."

From across the table, Germaine watched him with a slight smile; he seemed to be pondering the general unfairness of the file situation and trying to think of a way to remedy it. She could tell Steven Bloom was definitely not Leo Nash. Leo hadn't cared whether or not he had a file or who saw it; her latest partner seemed to be bothered by this small detail. They were silent as the waiter placed down Steven's beer and more tea for Germaine.

"Have you finished figuring out a way to get a file on me?" she asked him after the waiter left, her long fingers holding the large warm cup.

"I'm not figuring …" he responded and then stopped when he saw the way she was looking at him; the 'oh, really' on her face was plain as day.

"If you want to know anything, just ask," she said before beginning to go over a basic strategy and her undercover identity with him. She found his smile captivating and wanted to lose herself in his dark brown eyes. "I'll meet you in Marseilles day after tomorrow."

"We're not travelling together?" he asked.

"No, I leave tomorrow morning. It's less conspicuous if we arrive on different days. I'll find you after you arrive. Don't worry, I'll share any information I get," she told him and tried to focus on the job ahead.

"How are you going to find me?" he asked.

"I'm good; besides I would never misplace a man like you," she stated and winked. "Well, I need to pack. I will see you again soon, Steven Bloom. Enjoy your day in Paris tomorrow. There's a great exhibition going on at D'Orsay. You should go if you get a chance."

Two days later Steven Bloom sat on a lounge chair by the hotel pool. He had not seen or heard from Germaine since the evening at the café and he was beginning to doubt her ability. If there was no sign of her by that evening he planned to call in and see if he should proceed alone. As he relaxed, he thought about his options and Germaine D'Aubet. She and her blue eyes intrigued him. She was intelligent, that was evident from speaking with her. Not many people could switch from discussing undercover operations to suggesting an art exhibition without missing a beat. He wanted to get to know her better and was beginning to work on a list of questions to ask her. After all, she had said ask whatever he wanted to know. While he was lost in thought a waiter came up to his chair.

"A drink, from the lady over there," the waiter said and then looked around startled when he could no longer find the woman who sent the drink. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know where she went."

"Is this seat taken?" Germaine asked, coming up next to Steven's lounge chair. "I hope the drink's okay. I just picked the first thing that came to mind."

"You mean my drink preference isn't in my file?" he retorted after the waiter left. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to find me."

"Did you expect me to meet you at the reception desk? I prefer the pool; the scenery's better," she said as she sat in the next chair and let her eyes wander over him. His unbuttoned shirt revealed chiseled abs and shorts exposed toned legs. "I have a dinner engagement with our smuggler tonight at Oceane. You should be there too."

"Your accent is Parisian. Have you lived there your whole life?" he asked nodding. He observed she was wearing a sarong skirt and a sleeveless v-neck top that flattered her hourglass figure and a colorful scarf held her hair back.

"Yes and no. I grew up about forty-five minutes outside the city. Close enough to be a suburb but far enough away to be nothing near metropolitan," she answered. "Don't look so surprised, I told you I would answer your questions. Your French is pretty good for an American."

"Thank you, I think," Steven replied. "Do you think our mark will tell you anything tonight?"

"I doubt it," Germaine answered. "He's very wary; interested, but wary. Seems a little rough around the edges and not too worried about being a gentleman, so stay close."

"Not a problem," he told her with a smile. "The exhibit at D'Orsay was terrific. Thanks for recommending it."

"Aww, helikes you. That's sweet," technical agent Jean-Marc teased from his hotel room. Germaine could hear him clearly in the tiny earpiece she was wearing and did her best to keep her face impassive. "Got it bad to spend a day at Musee D'Orsay when he could've done anything else. Seriously Germaine, you might want to reconsider your rules for this one."

"Jean-Marc says hello and says the bar at Oceane is top notch," Germaine said to Steven after listening to Jean-Marc.

"Who's Jean-Marc?" he asked and unconsciously pulled at his shirt as Germaine's eyes ran over him again.

"He'll be running all tech and communications for us," she replied and rose to leave, thinking Jean-Marc could have a point. "Come by room 425 at 6:30 tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

At 6:30 that evening there was a knock on the door of room 425. Germaine looked through the peephole to see Steven Bloom standing outside. She opened the door and let him in.

"You look …" Steven stammered as he caught sight of her. Since they were at the pool, Germaine had changed for dinner. She had re-styled her hair, put on makeup for a night out and now wore a form-fitting teal dress that exactly matched the color of her eyes.

"Yes?" she asked, interested to hear what he would say.

"Beautiful," he replied and looked away. He didn't want to stare but the way her dress hugged every curve made it very difficult. As she paced around the room in bare feet he realized how tall she was and how effortlessly graceful.

"Thank you. You might look even better in this suit than you did at the pool," she said coming to stand next to him as she placed something on his jacket's lapel. "Here's a mike and an earpiece, now you'll be able to hear Jean-Marc yourself. By the way, this is Jean-Marc."

"He's right. You look hot," Jean-Marc said glancing up from the computer to nod at Steven. "Do you need anything else? A gun maybe?"

"I'm good," she responded and slipped on her shoes ready to start the evening.

Steven and Jean-Marc looked at her and then each other neither daring to ask where she had her weapon. "You two have a nice night. I'll be here … enjoying room service," Jean-Marc told them as they prepared left.

During dinner Germaine charmed the diamond smuggler while Steven watched from the bar. Jean-Marc had him patched in to her mike so he could listen to their conversation as well. He could tell by her body language Germaine was in control of the situation and when the man agreed to meet her again by the pool late the next morning Steven knew things were going well. After dinner, Germaine made sure her 'date' left the restaurant and was on his way elsewhere before meeting up with Steven along the main boulevard.

"How long have you been doing this?" Steven asked her as they slowly strolled along the street towards the hotel.

"This? About five years, I think. Before that I was in tech like Jean-Marc," she answered. "One of the senior agents thought I might be good in the field after working with me a few times."

"You're a computer whiz?" he asked.

"I do okay," Germaine replied laughing. "I really love art, though. I spend a lot of time at the museums; I think the Louvre is going to make me an assistant curator. I could probably explain Ingres 'La Grande Odalisque' better than they can_**. **_Have you worked in France before?"

"Not on a joint mission," he answered. "Solo a few times."

"You're not our usual contact, but they tell me Leo Nash was busy," she said absently. Germaine was enjoying the walk back to the hotel with Steven tremendously. She knew she was well on her way to falling for him and tried to rein in her feelings.

"You know Leo Nash?" Steven Bloom asked. "I'm surprised they let him in France."

"We've worked together a few times," she said and laughed. "Leo's not bad, just a bit cavalier at times."

"You're being generous," he responded.

"Not at all. We work well together," Germaine told him as they walked into the hotel.

"How well?" Steven asked and was met with silence and a sly smile from Germaine.

The two agents got in the elevator together and when it stopped at Germaine's floor, Steven also exited. "I'll walk you to your room," he said when she opened her mouth to protest. When they stopped at her door he asked, "What will you say about working with me when this is over?"

Germaine looked at him, in heels she was almost at even eye level with him and her eyes met his. She let her fingers slowly trace along the side of his jaw. She smiled as his carefully manicured beard prickled her fingertips and willingly forgot about reining in her feelings. Mustering all her self-control, she gently kissed his cheek and then said, "Good night, Steven Bloom. Thank you for making sure I got home safely."

Steven and Jean-Marc sat together in the latter's hotel room listening to the conversation between Germaine and the smuggler the next morning. She had managed to get close to him but they both knew she could be in serious danger if he suspected she was after the diamonds.

"Come on, Germaine," Jean-Marc uttered more to the air than to her. "Just get him to mention where he's keeping them and get out."

"Do you think he'll tell her where he's keeping them?" Steven asked. "He just met her."

"I don't know. I do know that if he suspects something this won't end well." Then Jean-Marc abruptly changed the subject. "She won't get involved with someone she works with."

"What?" Steven asked surprised.

"You. Germaine. Not going to happen," Jean-Marc stated bluntly. "She has her rules."

"You think I have no chance?" Steven questioned a bit deflated.

"Germaine is a force of nature, so there's always a chance," Jean-Marc replied shrugging. "If you get shot down, don't take it personally."

"You've gotten shot down?" Steven inquired.

"No. I'm not stupid enough to try," Jean-Marc stated and looked back down at the computer screen.

"Did you get that?" Germaine whispered as the mark went to get her another drink. "His room safe of all places. Steven needs to get in, get the stones and get out. I'll try to keep him occupied for a while. We'll run it like we did last time Jean-Marc."

"Got it. Keep in touch," Jean-Marc told her and gave Steven the smuggler's room number.

As Steven retrieved the diamonds from the man's room safe, Germaine led the man to a storage room in the hotel. With seductive whispers, teasing hands and an occasional kiss she promised wild abandon when they reached the privacy of the room. Little did the man know that hotel security would arrive soon after they entered the off limits room thanks to Jean-Marc.

Jean-Marc monitored both agents, verbally checking in with Steven Bloom and listening the best he could to Germaine. Moments after Steven entered the man's room, Germaine suddenly went quiet and Jean-Marc received no answer when he repeatedly attempted to contact her.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jean-Marc asked loudly when Germaine entered the room. "We didn't know what happened to you. What happened to your mike?"

"I had to lose it if I didn't want to get caught. I couldn't come right back here, either," she said and then turned to Steven and asked. "Did you get them?"

"Yes," Steven said watching her closely but saying nothing more.

"Good," she replied. "Jean-Marc, can we make an early train to Paris today?"

"I already have the tickets," he told her and then asked her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm packed. Call me a cab and I'll meet the two of you at the station. I'll tell the desk I have to check out early because my husband had an emergency at home," she said.

Germaine sat alone on the train looking out the window as they pulled away from the station. The incident with the diamond smuggler had shaken her. Security had taken what seemed like a long time to reach her and she had no intention of going all the way unbeknownst to the mark. The man got rougher as she stalled for time and she knew had hotel security not arrived when they did she would have had to make a difficult decision. While she was lost in reverie, Steven got up from across the aisle and sat down next to her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Steven asked her. She had been unusually quiet and solemn since she returned to Jean-Marc's room earlier in the day.

"I'm fine. Really," she answered and smiled, trying to convince him. "Tossing communications when you're not armed and your backup is busy picking locks a few floors up is a lot like walking a tightrope without a safety net. I'm not fond of it, that's all."

"He didn't … um … decide to not be a gentleman?" he inquired quietly.

"No, aside from tossing a microphone I managed to keep all other apparel on," Germaine replied and then changed the subject. "Since you've already been to D'Orsay, how will you spend your night in Paris?"

"I was hoping you'd have a suggestion," he said.

"I'm all out at the moment, sorry. Busy day," she told him.

"What will you be doing?" Steven asked.

"I will be doing my usual," Germaine replied cryptically and went silent.

"You're not going to tell me what your usual is, are you?" Steven asked breaking the silence.

"No," she answered and then added. "Maybe some day I will."

When they arrived in Paris, Jean-Marc gathered his equipment and the recovered diamonds to return to authorities that night. Germaine and Steven stood in front of the station with their bags making small talk. "I could walk you home again tonight, or at least make sure you get there alright in a cab," Steven said to her, hoping to prolong their time together.

"Thank you, but not tonight," Germaine answered. "I'm exhausted. I'll see you tomorrow morning at the office, okay?" She felt badly she wasn't being totally honest with him but the feelings she had for Steven Bloom scared her. She was used to being in control of herself and her emotions. She never let any man she dated know what she really was and she never allowed herself to get too emotionally involved.

She knew if she agreed to let Steven accompany her home she was more than likely to invite him in and let things go where they may. She wasn't sure she was ready to break her rules and let him in, no matter how much she was attracted to him. She also wasn't ready to let him know that after she dropped her bag at home she would head back out to La Cloche d'Or to find Germaine again.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Germaine met Steven at the French Intelligence offices to meet with Guillaume Leroux for debriefing.

"When do you leave for the States?" Germaine asked Steven as they exited the building after the meeting.

"I have a few days before I have to be anywhere. I was thinking I'd stay in Paris. You could show me around the city," he suggested. Despite the fact she turned him down the previous evening he was not about to give up easily.

"You've been to Paris before," she replied.

"Yes, but I've never had someone who lived here all their life show me around," Steven countered. "We could do all that touristy stuff you would never do because you live here … _or_ you could show me all the places you Parisians hang out. What do you say?"

Germaine thought about it. She knew if she said no she would probably regret it later; extremely good-looking men don't ask to be shown around the city very often. "Okay."

That night found them at the top of the Eiffel Tower. "When's the last time you were up here?" Steven asked her as they stood looking out at the lights of the city.

"I honestly don't remember. It's been a long time," she replied as she looked at him. She was having a wonderful time and her eyes danced. He smiled and bent to kiss her unsure of her response. He needn't have been concerned; her arms found their way around his chest and pulled him close.

They spent the next day at the Louvre at Steven's suggestion. It was obvious Germaine was in a place she loved. She knew her way around the museum and he was amazed at her knowledge of art.

"Where are we? I thought we were going to get a drink," he asked later that evening as they ascended two flights of stairs. They had enjoyed dinner at a tiny bistro she knew of a few blocks and a metro stop away from where they were now.

"We are at my apartment," she answered as she unlocked the door. "I have things to drink here. Is there a problem?"

"No. I'm surprised you're letting me see where you live," he said as they entered her home.

"I've spent most of every day with you for the better part of a week," she answered putting down her purse. "I've read your file. You can see where I live."

"Enough about my file," Steven said shaking his head.

"Have it your way," she responded with a shrug and began to unbutton his shirt.

Afterwards as they lay facing each other in her bed Steven asked, "How did you get that scar?" as his hand idly traced up her thigh, followed the steep curve of her hip and lingered at her waist.

Germaine exhaled as she remembered. "Two years ago I was working in Madrid with an American agent, Michael Malloy. He decided we needed to break into the office immediately instead of waiting for a while, as I suggested. Luckily, they were a bad shot and I just needed stitches."

"What happened to him?" he asked.

"As far as I know he's fine," she said with a touch of bitterness. "I don't keep in touch."

"What made you decide to break your rules with me?" Steven questioned.

"You've been talking to Jean-Marc," she answered shaking her head and then rolled onto her back pulling the sheet to cover the scar located just above her waist on the left side.

"We had to pass the time somehow while you were finding out where the diamonds were," he stated. "So how come?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "Your eyes, your smile … your incredibly defined abs. I am sure I will probably come to my senses and regret the decision, probably sooner than later."

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Totally. We work undercover for our governments, we don't know where we'll be next week or if we'll get out okay. Our lives are mostly these stories we make up as we go along. Add to that an ocean between us and how can it be any other way?" she replied surely.

"Germaine stop thinking so much," Steven said and pulled her close. "Just sleep now."

Steven opened his eyes and found himself alone in the quiet, dark apartment. It was very early morning and Germaine was gone. Before he could get up from the bed he heard the door open and a bag being placed down. Seconds later, she appeared in the bedroom.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said as she saw him lying there eyes open.

"You didn't. Where did you go?" he asked.

"Boulangerie. I have a thing for croissants," Germaine replied and crawled back into bed next to him after stripping down to her t-shirt and underwear.

"You had to go this early?" he inquired with a yawn.

"Yes, and now I am very happy; there are fresh croissants for later and an attractive man in my bed for now," she said as she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. They dozed for another hour or two before Germaine woke Steven with nuzzling kisses and wandering hands.

"Are you okay with café au lait and not your American coffee?" she asked as he emerged from the shower.

"The difference being?" Steven inquired as he took the towel she offered.

"Café au lait is hot milk and espresso as opposed to whatever you drink at home," she replied with a shrug.

"What you're making will be fine," he replied.

They sat at the small kitchen table and had breakfast. Germaine pulled the center out of her croissant after breaking it in half. Then she proceeded to methodically pull out and eat the other center as Steven watched. She followed by spreading some strawberry preserves in the remains before she ate them.

"I didn't realize there was a method to eating a croissant," Steven said with a smile and proceeded to take a big bite of the pastry in his hand.

"It tastes so much better when you take the time to really enjoy it. What time does your plane leave tomorrow?" she asked.

"9:30. I should be at the airport by eight at the latest. I'll call you when I land in New York," he replied.

Germaine smiled ruefully.

"You don't believe me?" Steven asked.

"It's not that. I almost convinced myself I'd be able to see you go without a second thought, but I can't. Part of me knew it in Marseilles but against my rules and my better judgment, I got involved," she replied thoughtfully.

"And now you're sorry?" he questioned wanting to know where she stood on their relationship.

"No, not at all. I don't regret any of it," Germaine said surely. "I don't want it to end."

"I didn't start something to walk away like nothing happened," Steven told her.

"So what's next?" she asked him. She was interested in his solution.

"For starters, we trade all contact numbers," he said. "When you're ready I believe Notre Dame was on the tourist schedule for today. Tonight, I'm taking you out for dinner; somewhere nice, I haven't decided where yet. Pack a small bag with some clothes and we'll drop it at my room. Tomorrow morning you can see me off at the airport. _Then_, I will call you when I land in New York. I'm not sure of anything after that other than I'm not going to let you go as easily as you think."

"You've thought about this," she said.

"You were getting croissants. What was I supposed to do?" Steven told her with a smile and touched her hand across the table. "Are you willing to break your rules and take a chance with me?"

Germaine looked into his dark brown eyes and thought for a minute or two before answering. She wasn't sure if he totally understood what he was asking of her; the invisible walls she protected herself with were quite high. "I'll give you a shot even though it scares the hell out of me," she said honestly and then added with a wink, "I wonder what your file will say about this?"


End file.
