Paris: The Adams Brothers Meet Miss Scarface

He led her over to a part of the yard with a gate. He pulled off the tarp that had covered the old plane. 'Here she is. It's just like the model my grandfather had.'

She followed him to the back part. Her mood had lightened a little. When he pulled off the tarp she smiled a little. It was familiar to her. "Amazing." She just looked at it for a few. "I always found planes interesting but never did like flying myself. I'm bloody scared of heights."

He patted the nose of the plane affectionately. 'You get used to it, eventually.. After you lose your lunch a couple of times.' He flashed a wide grin. 'So you came back, why, exactly? You weren't gone very long.' He put up the tools and covered the Warhawk again, securing the tarp to the ground.

He made sure that the engine was protected from the weather (it looked like it was about to rain) and turned to Monica again.

She smiled as she watched him. He reminded her of someone but the name was lost to her. Well a older version of someone. But it was impossible, her family was dead, all of them. Even her last husband, biggest mistake of her life there.

"I came back becasue I have no where else to go," she shoved her hands in her pockets. "And I have the answer I'm giving him. But I don't want to tel him yet." She looked up at the sky, clouds were coming in, dark ones. Rain would start falling soon. It matched her mood. "Did Sodom see my breakdown earlier?"

Will rubbed his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye-contact. 'Er.. He may have.. Yes.' He bounced on his feet and pursed his lips. 'Are you going to see him soon?'

She watched him get all nervous, he shouldn't have. "Seeing as he did it is okay," she looked down at her feet. "Seeing as he did I guess he was is going to want answers as to why." She twirled her foot on the ground making circles. "But the thing is I don't know if I want to tell him."

She looked back up at Will. The tears starting to come back into her eyes. She didn't want to to cry again but she might have to. The pain ran that deep in her, but hatred was deeper. "I'm sure you are curious too."

He shrugged, and spoke carefully in a soft voice with a subtle Virginian accent. 'Well, as I see it, it's none of my business. There're things I'd rather not tell you, and there are things you'd rather not tell me. You never know. He might not even ask.'

She looked up at the sky, the clouds starting to come over more. The light gray and dark gray mixed into swirls across the sky. "Of course," her voice a whisper as she spoke. "But the thing is he might ask and I don't know how to tell him about it."

A faint picture of her brother flashed in her head along with her mom. Adopted at birth but that didn't matter. Her family love her and she loved them. She seemed distracted in a way, as if she wasn't really there. Rain started to fall slowly from the sky.

She looked back at Will. "Be glad you still have your brother," she let the sorrow pass through her voice. "I wish I had mine."

He hid a smile. 'Trust me. I am every day. Donnovan's my best friend.' Then he added hastily: 'Just don't tell him that. He gets cocky..'

He glanced at the clouds. 'Ready to go inside?' He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

She shoved her hands in her pockets. She laughed at him at his response. "I won't," she said. "But yes let's go inside."

She started heading that way. "You know if you have questions you can ask them," she said over her shoulder.

'Eventually.' He smiled and opened the door for her, storing the tools he'd been using in a closet. He walked into the kitchen and washed the grease, polish and oil off his hands. 'If you're waiting for him to call you in there, you might as well leave. You'll just have to go in if you want his attention.'

She let him open the door and walk in. She followed him to the kitchen and listened to him. "No I'm not waiting for him," she smiled at him. "Right now I'm just enjoying someone besides Damon." She heard the faint patter of rain on the roof. It was almost relaxing. "You know Damon secretly fears you right?"

His boyish laugh rang throughout the nearly-empty kitchen. 'Well, I can't imagine why. I've never found myself to be especially intimidating.' He grinned widely. 'But he's fun to mess with, I guess.'

She smiled at him. "He is scared that I will like you better," she shrugged. "Which is possible but right now no. I'm not a slut like half of France."

She went to sit down at the table, standing in the middle of the room was weird. She pulled out a chair and sat. "Rule number one you don't sleep with strangers unless you are drunk."

Will watched her sit, leaning against the counter with a dishtowel still in hand. 'Then he has nothing to worry about, miss. I don't try those sorts of things on young ladies--most of the time. At the very least, I know the meaning of no.' He winked. He and Donnovan had been raised with a strictly-southern upbringing, so he'd learned when a woman said 'no', she meant no. (And, of course, when you respected that, it sometimes changed her mind. Chivalry worked well for both parties.)

She had to laugh at that. She was not brought up that way. No the men she grew up around were all skirt chasers. She could have sworn ti was a job for them. "Well that is good then," she said. "The men I was brought up with didn't respect that. Only a few did."

He shrugged. 'Yeah, well, America's different. And my dad was a hard-ass. Couldn't even hit the manly girls..' He muttered to himself unintelligibly about being beaten up by a girl in his first-grade class. 'She was STRONG, too. I swear that had to be a really short, feminine man..'

"I know America is," she laughed. "I lived there for part of my life." She absentmindedly moved her finger in circles on the table. She laughed when he said the thing about the girl. "Well your dad brought you up right. I didn't have one so I was taught to defend myself no matter what."

Donnovan peeked into the kitchen, frowning at his brother. 'There you are, boob! I've been looking for you!' He came in and grabbed Will by the shirt collar. 'You're going to clean up the mess you left in my room, whether you want to or not!'

He dragged Will out of the room, the two arguing boisterously until they were out of sight.

Monica watched the whole charade with Will and his brother. Amusing two. She wasn't sure what was going on but it couldn't have been good. She sighed and waited for them or someone. She thought over her answer to Sodom. It was four simple words. It was a mistake. Now if he believed that then that would be something.

Sodom entered, book in hand, examining the pages as he reached into a cupboard for a wine bottle. "Good evening, dear," he said without glancing up from the pages. "I expected you to take longer." He flipped a page, marked it, and laid the book on the table, going over to the counter. He chopped fresh basil as he spoke. "There should be oysters in the refrigerator, if you don't mind."

She watched Sodom enter. He had a book in his hand, reading as he walked. You had to have grace and know where every wall in your house was to do that. She couldn't do that with out running face first into a wall.

She got up from the table and went to go get the oysters. She put them near the sink and waited to be told what to do with them. She was no cook. Her cooking skills were limited to noodles, and baking.

He moved the basil to the side, taking the bag of oysters. He pulled a bowl from the cabinets and began shucking the oysters. He rinsed the meat, patted it dry, and sliced them into smaller pieces. "Flour, please," he said softly over his shoulder.

She moved out of his way mechanical. When He said flour she went in search for it. Not knowing this kitchen she had no idea where it would be. She looked around for it and then finally found it. She put it next to him and waited for his next orders. Seeing as she didn't know what he was making.

He poured flour into the bowl without measuring, along with various seasonings and some of the chopped basil. He quickly set out a bowl of ice water and started the stove, placing a pan with oil on the eye. Each piece he placed in the flour, water, then oil, until he'd fried each piece and placed them on a paper-towel covered plate. As Sodom took out a fresh head of lettuce and began ripping leaves from it to place on two plates, he asked: "Well, child, have you come to watch me, or have you something to say?"

When he turned to face Monica, he set the plates on the table. On each was a bowl of sauce to go with the oyster. He placed silverware and napkins by the plates, sitting in a chair fluidly and motioning for her to do the same.