Work Text:
Snow.
It had snowed recently in Canada. Alas, Prime Minister Mark Carney was unfortunately not present to witness the last snowfall of this year.
Mark had flown in from a conference with the United Kingdom's Keir Starmer, completing the first leg of his diplomatic trip for Europe. He left to visit France afterwards in order to discuss a defense deal with Emmanuel Macron. His first day was spent smiling for the press, meeting with the President, and speaking with both current and former ministers. Mark was exhausted from his flight, turbulence keeping him awake for most of the day. After his final dinner, he had promptly returned to his bedroom, stripped himself of his tie, and fell asleep.
The day after was his birthday.
Gabriel Attal was nervous.
He hadn't eaten anything the whole day, save for a few crackers he had quickly eaten on the way to the National Assembly. The whole government was in a rush from whatever the newest scandals was, or the new approval ratings that came out, or what they were going to do at that meeting with the Canadian Prime Minister tomorrow. He was completely drained, from waking up early to walk Volta, to having absolutely everything be in a delay today. An absolute trainwreck was going on in Parliament today.
Maybe sleep will make it better.
The day after was his birthday.
Mark decided to treat himself to something today. After all, it had been a long week, from Pierre Poilievre practically shrieking at him in the House of Commons over “[Canada’s] strategic maple syrup stockpile, which he could use to put maple syrup on the pancakes that he flip-flops on” (what in tarnation was he talking about?). And it was his birthday, too.
He took a walk to the nearest bakery, hoping to buy himself a pastry. He was planning on running tomatoes, anyhow. It wasn't as if one small baked good could hurt.
Gabriel awoke craving something sweet. Volta was already antsy about not walking enough the day prior, which was probably fair since he uninstalled Pokémon Go a few weeks ago. He checked his phone to find a bakery nearby, and decided to visit. It was for his birthday; surely, he could allow himself one thing.
“Et, uhh, un gâteau au chocolate, s'il vous plaît.
“Oui, merci beaucoup.”
Mark looked up, and saw Gabriel Attal staring at him.
“Good morning, Mr. Attal.”
“Good morning. Do you usually stop by bakeries before diplomatic meetings?” Attal's words were mocking, though his voice was soft and his tone betrayed a sense of fatigue from the day prior. In other words, he could relate.
“No, not really.” Mark gave a polite chuckle. “March 16th is my birthday, and it’s been a rough week.”
“Ah. Same here, I came because Volta was excited and, well, March 16th is also, well-”
“Really? What a coincidence.”
“Yes, yes, indeed. Would you like to sit together and discuss our meeting?”
“I would be open to that. Thank you.”
Mark walked away, and Attal followed him slowly with his eyes.
“Je prendrai la même chose que lui.”
“Oui, merci.”
He walked over to where Mark sat, and the two began to share their cake together.
“Ah, chocolate cake? That’s an excellent choice.”
“Yes, well, I trust your judgement.”
“So,” Mark spoke, with a barely visible glint in his blue eyes, “what are you planning?”