"Good boy," Angelique purred, withdrawing from the bound would-be agent, the communicator in hand. Her expression was oddly distracted as she snapped the device's tiny antenna with a flick of her thumb. Solo shuddered inwardly -despite Angelique's outer beauty, there was something about her that made his skin crawl...something he couldn't quite describe. It seemed that the blonde was well aware of her captive's silent scrutiny because she pulled herself from her moment of reverie, eyes raking along his body in lurid appreciation. "Do you like what you see?" she asked silkily and then, before Napoleon could answer: "Illya did. We were good together -*very* good."

"Ah..." Napoleon swallowed uneasily, realizing what it was about this woman that made the hairs at the back of neck stand up straight. She was the embodiment of a volcano -the slightest thing would cause her to erupt. Of that, he was certain. "So I've heard." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Um...aren't you supposed to be getting ready for a meeting?"

"In time, darling one." Angelique drew closer and then sat on Napoleon's lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. "We would often start like this," she said and began to undo the buttons of his shirt, slowly and deliberately, beginning with his collar button. "You look surprised -didn't you know 'our' little Russian was into kink? No? He was. He probably still is." She drew her tongue along Napoleon's jaw-line. "That's what he liked most, I think...the danger of not being in control. But I imagine you already know that...don't you?"

Napoleon pasted on his most gracious smile. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand--"

"*Don't you!*" For a femininely delicate woman, Angelique's slap across Napoleon's jaw came with exceptional force. "I can *smell* him on you!," she hissed. "His scent! His cologne! Did you enjoy making him moan when you fucked him!? He was mine! He *is* mine!! Even if I have to kill him to keep him!" The blows rained down on the helpless agent until, suddenly, they stopped. Angelique chuckled softly as she stood up, pushing a loose strand of peroxide blond hair from her murderously glittering eyes. "Ah well, time enough later for games. You're quite right -I *do* have a meeting to attend." She studied her "handiwork" appraisingly. "Don't worry -I'll have someone clean you up first. Can't do business looking like that, now can we?"

Napoleon sniffed back at the thin stream of warm red trickled from his nose. Suspicions confirmed -the woman was not only jealous, she was insane...and the next time she blew her top might be his last. What *had* he gotten himself into?

**********

April gazed at her appearance in the full-length mirror with a moue of dismay. She had to dress like *this* for the mission!? What *was* she getting herself into?