LeGloan seemed to hesitate a bit, but then motioned toward the seat across the table, muttering a quiet "Oui". Lefevre took the seat and took a short draw on his coffee. It was so flavorful that it almost made up for the lack of croissant.
"You know, you're an absolute idiot for following that order, mon ami." The Capitaine finally spoke after a short silence.
Lefevre knew that the man was just prodding him responded in kind. "And if I didn't you were probably going to chase me around Gap shooting anyway. I figured I liked the idea of meeting Privas personally just a tad more."
"That's why I keep you around, Lefevre. Never a dull moment." LeGloan grimaced and took another sip.
Luc was about to respond, most likely with an "Only if it doesn't kill me first", when an obviously drunk and very haggard looking man stumbled in through the Cafe entrance. The entire cafe turned an at once looked at the man as he loudly shuffled his way forward, all conversations immediately grinding to a halt. He looked up, spotted Perrot's wife, and immediately redirected as best he could with his diminished faculties, the contents of the quarter-full wine bottle audibly sloshing.
The drunk reached out and muttered a few words at Lillian, who wore a look that was somewhere between confusion and disgust. Perrot stood up as the man latched on to his wife's arm and motioned to drag her away from the table. Why, Lefevre couldn't hear. In one swift motion, Perrot drew a short foil from an until-now unseen holster and deftly raised it over Lillian's head and made contact with the side of the drunk's face. The man grunted and collapsed, both Perrot and his wife immediately returning back to their food and carrying on as if nothing had transpired.
Between them, LeGloan was the first to break the silence, just as the cafe began to resume its usual low conversational drum.
"What kind of couple does that and then just acts like nothing happened? Strange, those Perrots are. Simon usually gets his job done, though, so I tend not to bother him."
The conversation continued back and forth, neither talking about anything perilously important, the atmosphere only broken momentarily by a clumsy fellow by the name of Brun. Lefevre, however, never let from his mind slip the look on the drunk's face as security dragged his unconscious body out, his jaw hanging grotesquely dislocated, blood flowing freely from the deep gash left by Perrot's foil.
"I better watch myself around Perrot." Lefevre thought to himself. "And it would probably be wise to carry my own foil as well..."
