Paris Holds the Key to Her Heart

Aberleigh-

I sighed happily as I rested my head on Marc's shoulder. I was still amazed at what had happened in the past month. From the fight... to Vero's engagement, which I still didn't know how to feel about... to Marc's new found insane concern for me, and what I'm eating. Now here we were, in the middle of February, jetting off to Europe.

I felt a strange mixture of sadness and relief for us. Sadness in the fact that we were leaving teammates and friends, really our family, as many dashed off to Vancouver to fight for their country in the best war ever and the only one I'd ever support, the Olympics. I knew it was bugging Marc that he wasn't able to go, play with his friends and idols. But, this year wasn't his time. There'd be other Olympics, and I'd be there when he did get to go. Relief... Relief in the fact that we were finally able to take some time for us. To be together. To be... out of the spotlight of family and friends. To be alone... for once. Relief over the fact that we were finally sitting on cushy couches in Pittsburgh International Airport waiting for our flight to Paris to be called.
I glanced up at him as I felt him kiss the top of my head.

“We need to get you a different cap, baby.” I laughed pulling on the bill of his Penguins ball cap. “People expect you to be in a Pens one. How about a Yankees one?”

“Shh... Don't say that too loud, we'll be surrounded by women trying to steal me away shortly.” He grinned looking around the lounge. I chuckled softly, pulling myself up to steal his lips in a sweet kiss.

“'Scuse me,” a small voice broke through my mind fog, pulling me away from Marc to show a young girl about 7 or 8 standing in front of us, clutching a notebook in her hands. “Can I have your autographs Mr. Fleury?” I gushed at the sweetness the small child exuded as I tried not to laugh at Marc's earlier comment.

“Sure.” Marc flashed her his full watt smile, causing me to swoon, as he took her notebook and pen gently from her.

“What's your name, sweetheart?” I asked gently, tearing her attention away from Marc as he scribbled a note to her.

“Cindy Anabelle Glashan.” She smiled brightly, showing off her toothless grin. “Are you and Mr. Fleury married?” I shut my mouth quickly before turning to Marc, finding him staring back at me. We both laughed at the comment with an edge of nervousness in our voices.

“No Cindy... not yet.” Marc recovered first, winking at the young girl as he returned the notebook and pen. My heart jumped into my throat as young Cindy skipped back to her parents, her prized autographs clutching in her hand. Not yet? Was he going to propose in France? Oh God... Could I handle that?

“Women flocking, hmmm?” I grinned up at him, trying to push thoughts of engagement out of my head. He groaned softly pulling his hat lower over his eyes.

“I'm never going to live that down am I?” I shook my head, causing him to groan even louder.

“At least Max isn't here...” I shrugged, pulling myself off the couch and offering my hand as our flight was called.




“Abby, please just eat a little bit more...?” Marc pleaded with me as I pushed the food in front of me around.

“Marc, I'm not hungry, I wasn't hungry when you ordered this for me. And more importantly I'm not a child!” I sighed exasperated at him, setting my fork down gently. “Stop treating me like one.” He sighed softly sitting back in his chair, allowing me to curl up into him and breathe in his beautiful scent. Like soap and woods all at the same time. Heaven. “This week is about us, remember? No fighting, no yelling. Just us and France.” I felt him nod against me before kissing the top of my head and tightening his grip on me as my eyes drifted shut.




I laughed wildly as Marc pulled my hand gently, like a child wanting to show you the next big thing, running down Voie Georges Pompidou.

“Come on, Abby! The Arc de Triomphe is over here!” He turned around briefly to make sure I wasn't dying behind him.

“Marc, slow down!” I called after him. “I don't exercise for a living!” I laughed as he slowed to a brisk walk from a dead run. “We'll go to the Arc, and the Louvre. And Notre Dame, and I want to go to Versaille. We'll get there. Calm down.” He stopped completely, causing me to run into his back as he spun around, trapping me in his arms. “Marc-Andre --” My protest died off quickly as he stopped any words with a kiss. I clutched his sweater in one hand, allowing my other to reach up and play with the curls at his neck. I squealed into the kiss as he deepened it, leaning me backwards lightly. I took a deep breath as soon as he straightened us out and let me go. “What was that?” I blushed as a few people walked by clapping softly. Oh my god... I blushed deeply staring at the cobblestones below us.

“Sorry... I always wanted to kiss a beautiful woman outside the Arc.” He smiled down at me, taking my hand, tightly in his, before crossing the street to the imposing monument.

“This is it?” I glanced around, reading all the plaques in the square. “It sounds so much bigger... So much more.... magnificent.” Marc turned to face me, sporting a shocked expression. “What? It's a war monument! I'm not a fan of war. I get that people died and it was sad... but do we need a rock to prove it?”

“We'll go to Louvre ok?” He smiled, shaking his head, as he wrapped his arm around my waist, leading me off. “But first, you need a baret!” I giggled as he plopped a black flat hat on my head. “There. Now you look French.” We chuckled together as we ran across the street to the entrance of one of the most famous museums of the world.

“Oh... Look, Wedding Feast at Cana...” I gushed pulling him towards Paolo Caliari's painting. Marc tipped his head to the side studying the painting at great lengths.

“It's just a group of people standing around. Where's the food?” He peered at the painting closely. I rolled eyes.

“Maybe we should just go to dinner...” I suggested, not wanting to get into the heart of the Louvre and have him criticize all of my favourite pieces of art. Marc shrugged easily, draping his arm around my shoulders. We stopped outside the door and I pulled out my map trying to find a cute little bistro to eat at. “What about Le Bouclard?” I pointed at the map. He shrugged lightly causing me to sigh gently, heading towards the bistro.

Once we were seated, choosing to eat on the beautiful patio, Marc studied the menu closely before turning to the server and chatting softly in French, handing him the menu as he disappeared.

“What did you order?” I asked softly, letting him take my hand and play with the simple band on my pinky finger.

“Some clams, lobster, and some baguette and wine.” He grinned slightly, bringing my hand to his lips, kissing the ring. I blushed softly as he held my hand against his, studying the size difference. My hand was almost half his. “Your hands are so small, babe...” He smiled linking our fingers as he set our hands back on the table. The server came with our wine, pouring it first for Marc to taste before filling my glass. I took a small sip of my wine. It was delicious, like biting into fresh cherries. The baguettes arrived next, I took a small slice off of the end of mine as I felt something hit the top of my head. I glanced up at Marc as he had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “En garde, Cherie.” He grinned holding up his baguette like a sword.

“Oh no... No way, Marc.” I squealed as he hit my shoulder gently. “Marc!” I squealed holding my baguette up to protect myself from him. “Cut it out, we're in public!”

“C'mon, Abby! Fight with me!” He laughed as I moved to poke him in the chest, as he blocked it easily. We laughed as I squealed watching a piece of bread fly off of Marc's baguette. Marc lept from his chair, racing lowly around table and began to tickle me mercilessly.

“MARC!” I squealed through hysterics. “Marc, I can't breathe! Oh god! Marc... stop!” My smile remained as he stopped tickling me, instead biting softly onto my bared neck. “Marc...” I sighed softly into him as his moved his mouth closer to mine. He jumped away from me as an angry French voice yelled from behind us. Marc mumbled back at him in French as he threw some bills onto the table and gently pulled me out of the restaurant.

“Oops...” He whispered into my ear as we meandered down the street towards our hotel.

“I can't believe you got us kicked out of a restaurant!” I yelled, hitting him playfully in the chest.

“Abby... I play a game for a living... What did you expect?” He grinned kissing my forehead gently. I laughed easily against him as we walked through the front door.





I groaned softly as I trumped up the grassy hill, the heal of my boot catching in the ground again. Exasperated I pulled my heal out of the ground, taking a chunk of earth with me as I followed him up the hill.

“It would've been nice to know that we were hiking for two miles, Marc!” I called up to him as he chuckled, running back to get me.

“Abby, it's Vimy Ridge. Of course we have to hike.” He shook his head at me warily.

“Marc...” I sighed softly towards him, holding onto his arm tightly as we made our way up the hill. “I don't know what Vimy Ridge is. I've never heard of Vimy Ridge. Lets just go to Nice. Sit on the beach... Drink some wine... Get some sun.”

“We won't be here long, Abby...” He sighed “This is the only time I'll get to stand in Canada while I'm in France.”

“What?” I laughed at him as we crested the hill to find a large white stone structure. “Marc... Is this another war monument?”

“Yes...” He said slowly walking me towards the large structure. “But, Abby... Before you go off about war and how it's wrong. This is Canadian soil. The French government gave it to Canada for our contributions in World War I.” I sighed as I allowed him to lead towards the monument. I sat easily onto a bench near the beginning of the monument and watched as he wandered around slowly, running his hands against the smooth stone. I smiled softly to myself as he knelt onto his knee his graceful fingers brushing names etched into the stone. After several minutes he made his way back over to me, I took his face gently between his hands and pulled his face towards mine, kissing him in the most sweetest way possible. “What was that for?” He whispered as I shrugged lightly.

“I love you, Marc-Andre Fleury.” I smiled as he bent down to kiss me lightly.

“Not nearly as much as I love you, Aberleigh Michaels.” I opened my mouth to protest as we heard a throat clear behind us.

“I'm sorry...” The man shrugged easily as we both turned our attention towards the family. “My family and I are huge fans Mr. Fleury, would you mind if we got some pictures of you?” Marc turned back and glanced at me questioningly. I laughed and shook my head no, before standing slowly.

“Why don't you all sit down, and I'll take the picture.” I smiled brightly at the man as his eyes grew widely. His wife nodded, handing me the camera, pushing him and their two children to the wall to sit around Marc. “Everyone say... Go Pens!” They laughed as I snapped a couple of pictures.

“Do you think we could get some pictures of the two of you with the kids?” His wife asked softly, causing me to stare at her blankly. They wanted my picture?

“No problem...” Marc grinned patting the seat next to him. “C'mon Abby... Sit next to me.” I shook my head as I eased myself back onto the stone to have Marc's arm slide over my shoulders. I turned to look at him scrunching my nose as he rubbed his own against mine. The kids laughed easily, as the youngest made her way onto my lap. I recovered from absolute shock taking over as I moved my own hand to play with the waist band at the back of Marc's pants; earning a soft groan from him, making my own smile grow.

“Thank you so much, Mr Fleury. It's such an honor to meet you!” The dad gushed shaking Marc's hand.

“Please, call me Marc.” He smiled before turning to the man's wife. “Don't forget to send Abby those pictures. I think they'll turn out well.” She waved my business card in goodbye as we began our trek down Vimy hill.

“Call if you're ever in Pittsburgh!” I called up to them waving. Marc chuckled lightly before sweeping my feet out from under me.

“The shoes were tough goings as we went up. Down's harder and I don't want you to break your pretty ankle.” He grinned as I stuck out my tongue at him.

“Well if you didn't insist on climbing two mile hills you wouldn't have to worry about me breaking my ankle.” I laughed as I heard him muttered 'smart ass' under his breath as we headed back to the rental car.





The rest of our week flew by and I suddenly found myself sitting in the bedroom were Vero and I had our first civil conversations.

“Vero, are you happy?” I sighed gently as she flitted around the room nervously. She stopped abruptly and turned to me, her cheek swollen and bright red.

“Of course I'm happy. Abby, I can't even explain how Pierre makes me feel. He treats me like a princess...” She smiled honestly, almost taking my mind off of her cheek. Almost...

“What happened to your cheek?” I asked easily, nonchalantly.

“Ooh... I... uhh... I walked into the door, clumsy me.” She shrugged slightly as I studied her closer. I hadn't known Vero long, but in the time I had known her, she'd never been clumsy.

“As long as you're happy, Vero... I'm happy for you.” I rose gently from the bed and embraced the beautiful woman in front of me. “Now... I think we have a dinner to go to... I know Marc is anxious to see you again.” I smiled easily as we headed down the stairs together.

“Where's Cooper?” Vero asked easily as she glanced around the living room for my brown fluff ball.

“He's getting a bit big for plane travel, plus he hates the car... It's easier to leave him at home with Braeden. I think my brother enjoys the company. He's a little bit lonely now and then...” Vero nodded thoughtfully as Marc came up and wrapped me into a tight embrace.

“Do we have to go to this dinner?” He sighed into my ear, gently biting the top of it. “I've booked a hotel room in Montreal... We could just....”

“Or we could go to dinner, like we've been invited to.” I laughed pulling away from him. “Don't be rude, Marc-Andre, your parents are here.”

“Yah.. They're why I got the hotel room...” He muttered under his breath causing both Vero and I to laugh gently. Just as Vero's father came in and swept us all out the door.




The dinner was beautiful, but after the rich food of Paris I was simply picking at the meal, piece of bread there, carrot, celery... small bites of meat... As little as I could get away with. What I couldn't... I'd run off tomorrow morning. I glanced up to find Vero watching me closely before turning away once caught. Who else did Marc have spying on me? I sighed gently as Marc squeezed my hand from under the table. I turned towards him and smiled sincerely as Vero's dad got up to start the speeches.