Max's apartment was small and modest. Her first parisian apartment had been luxurious and extravagant but she didn't begrudge the modestly plain apartment. After all this was war, and this was her job.
She was kind of at a loss right at that moment though. When she was in Germany she was right in the middle of the action but here in Paris there were more Parisians than Germans and the Germans seemed to keep to themselves more or less. Max had managed to do a little spying on the Resistance and made a report about that but it certainly wasn't the big haul that she could have reported on from Germany.
She couldn't help but wonder if this was a little bit of a demotion.
She was about to make herself a cup of coffee and curl up in bed with a book and figure out something to do that afternoon when she heard a knock on the door.
She opened it to see Viveka, "oh, Viveka," she smiled. "Come in."