Alex walked into the Louvre with her good friend James. Today was his birthday and he had insisted that they go to a museum, because he loved art just as much as she did.
“I never realized the Louvre was so big.” Alex said as they walked down one the long hallways of the museum that were lined with priceless paintings.
James stopped walking, a horrified expression on his face, “Are you honestly telling me that you have never been to the Louvre before?”
Alex looked at him pointedly, “’Should alcoholics go to wine shops?’” she asked, quoting on of her favorite books, with a smile.
James shrugged and continued walking.
They had already seen all of the exhibits that interested them and were making their way to the entrance of the museum when the world went black.
Loud sirens pierced the air with their wailing, and a minute later the emergency generator kicked in, bringing light to the dark museum.
James and Alex followed the torrent of frightened people pushing their way out of the doors and onto the sidewalk. They walked swiftly down the boulevard in silence, headed towards their hotel. They didn’t dare voice the thought that raced through their minds. Whoever had done it was good.
Alex sat across from James an hour later, with the Louvre’s floor plans spread out on the table between them, trying to figure out who could have possibly pulled this heist.
“How long did it take until the backup generator started?” James asked, his head still bent over the plans.
Alex looked up from the drawing of the basements layout and was struck, not for the first time, by how handsome he was. He had black hair, bright blue eyes, sharp cheek bones, and for some reason like to hang out with her.
“What?” he asked, noticing that she was staring at him, “Do I have something on my face?”
She laughed, shaking her head, “You don’t have anything on your face, I was just thinking. It only took a minute and fifty nine seconds for the backup generator.”
James looked thoughtful, “So they had to get out of the museum in two minutes? That’s just impossible.” He looked up at her, “It is impossible, isn’t it?”
Alex got up and started pacing; it always helped her to think.
James leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to sleep a little while she paced.
James woke up forty five minutes later and Alex was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest he would have though she was dead. He got up and walked over.
She turned her head so that she could watch him walk over, praying that he couldn’t see how much she loved him.
He sat down on the couch so that she was pressed against the back of the couch. He touched her lightly on the arm with one hand and his other hand came up and gently tucked a stay lock of hair behind her ear.
“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.
What was she supposed to say? That she thought that he was the single most handsome man that she had ever seen.
“We have to get those paintings back James. We just have to. It's wrong that someone stole those paintings. They belong in a museum, and we have to get them back.”
He nodded, “Of course we do.” He paused looking at her, “Are you sure there’s nothing else?” She shook her head no. He got up and walked over to the table and leaned against it, looking at her. “You know what Alex; you haven’t given me my birthday present today.”
