Les Chats du Guerre

3: Hopeful Discoveries

Jealousy was a frequent bedfellow more than Sam Drake would like to admit.

Jealous of the fact he could never give Nathan the childhood he had deserved, jealous it had been Sullivan and not him that had been Nate's companion for all those years Sam had been locked up in Panama, though there was little jealousy for the life Nate had chosen of domestic bliss.

Sam could never be content with having the wife, the child, the house in a quaint neighbourhood, the desk job.

Perhaps that was why he kept running as far from that as he could, never having a woman for longer than a few months, never setting down enough ties to truly belong anywhere. Nomadic as they came, and content with that fact.

He glanced over at [Y/N], tucking her hair behind her ear as James leaned in close beside her, papers strewn out between them as they spoke of the First World War and the people who used it to their advantage.

James appeared to murmur something in her ear causing her to whack his arm playfully, giggling a little and it made Sam bristle more than he would like to admit.

James had kept his promise, allowing the pair into the home of Thomas Leclerc and access to the man's files, bountiful in number. Sam knew he should be grateful that the man wasn't pressing charges.

Still didn't alleviate the sharp twist in Sam's gut whenever James held [Y/N]'s gaze a little too long, a charming grin always on his thin features as he spoke to her.

The man wasn't even that attractive, his features too thin and sharp, his mouth a mere line and his eyes too wide. Not that Sam considered himself the handsomest man either....though from his limited experience women didn't seem to mind that.

[Y/N] looked up from the papers and grinned at Sam, approaching him eagerly with more papers in her hands.

"So James and I think that the Dove and the Lark might have been Marie and Emilie, though there's nothing about Joan," she declared, frowning a little. "Not that I expected to find much considering she was a common thief but...."

"You could try looking into the Paris archives for police records if she ever got herself caught," James offered, and [Y/N] shook her head.

"From what we've seen, she was brilliant at what she did, never got herself caught," [Y/N] murmured, and Sam was surprised when she nudged him a little. "Might rival the skills of our dear Sam here."

"You sure about that?" James murmured, and Sam bristled at the statement. "She was supposed to be quite good."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should rethink my statement," [Y/N] declared with a chuckle. "Poor Sam's reputation has been tarnished now due to you."

"And what reputation is that?" Sam asked her with a smile as he set down the papers, and she rolled her eyes.

"As if you don't know already, Sam. Sorry, not stroking that ego," she retorted, though there was a smile on her lips.

"And what's yours?" Sam asked playfully as he met her eyes.

"Excellent historian with a kind heart and a passion for what she does," James retorted instead of [Y/N], causing the latter to blush a little.

"I'm good, not excellent," she murmured with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Says the woman who singlehandedly helped me to find treasure in Newfoundland," Sam reminded her as he picked up the papers again, and her smile was a little dimmer.

"Yeah, well, I think you could have managed that on your own with enough time and resources," she replied.

"And if Abigail and Clarke didn't try to pull a fast one on you," James added, causing [Y/N] to look at him sharply. He put his hands up defensively. "Sorry, I'll be quiet."