When Solenne spoke her language, it brought on feelings of warmth and comfort. America was nice, but Trixy was not a fan of the brutish English language, it lacked the culture and romance that she loved about French. Perhaps she was just a bit homesick because, no matter how far she traveled, her heart would always belong to France – to Francis… 

Solenne called her by his old nickname for her; He was the only person to use her now-alias with such affection. Béatrix smiled against the cell’s receiver. “Serait une heure à partir de maintenant trop tôt ?” she spoke in French, reveling in the fact that she could do so and be understood. “I’m  just heading into town to do some investigating, but perhaps we could grab some coffee and chat?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically hopeful. Solenne agreed to a time and place to meet, and they ended their phone call with the usual pleasant formalities.

Trixy straddled the smooth seat of her Ninja and fluffed put her hair. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the side mirrors - yes, the whole no-reflection thing is a vampire myth – and she cleaned up the edges of her eyeliner with her pinky finger. With one of her trademark killer smiles, Trixy decided that she was just stunning enough to meet up with her old friend-with-benefits. At least, that’s what the kids called them these days, or was that the slang from ten years ago? Ah, well, time flies when you live forever.

The engine roared to life at Trixy’s call, and off she was to paint the town red – hopefully literally. She sped around different areas and neighborhoods, trying to catch the rogue’s scent. Nothing yet, but it passed the time, and Trixy now found herself in the area where the café Solenne had suggested was. She parked her bike and pocketed the keys before walking down the sidewalk and into the quaint little coffee shop.