Illya threw his clothes into the suitcase. "A bomb?"

"A bomb." Napoleon nodded.

"At the biggest hotel in this town?"

"Technically, no. The Awhanee is in Yosemite, not Mariposa."

"Don't get smart with me, lyubovnik, I invented smart. During the biggest event this place ever sees?"

"The only event."

"This is bad."

"Yup."

He sighed heavily, slamming the case closed. "This is bad."

"So we've established." Napoleon kneaded Illya's shoulders. "We're going in undercover."

"We should get the hotel emptied, in case the bomb cannot be found, or if even then it cannot be defused in tiime."

"We tried." He rolled his eyes. "No such luck, the owner refused. Instead of ruining the big occasion, he's putting us up-- one room, he said, and since it's free, we don't complain."

"As if we'd be inclined to."

"Anyway, he puts us up, we find and defuse the bomb, and no one's the wiser."

"Theoretically. What's our cover story?"

"I'm the sort of wealthy person who attends black and white balls."

"And I just happen to be staying in your room? Napoleon, what will the neighbors think?"

"Was that a joke?" He grinned. "Looks like your sense of humor isn't dead after all."

"No, just black. To be serious, though, what is my story?"

"You're my personal assistant, I suppose. Or my personal bomb squad."

"I suppose the hotel will be pretty full..." Illya sighed, handing Napoleon one of the suitcases and moving to the door.

"We'll find the bomb."

"And what if I can't disarm it?"

"You will." He said firmly, kissing his partner once more before they opened the door.

---/-/---

Violet Marsters paced back and forth in front of the small café. She was about to go wait inside when a movement in the shadows caught her eye.

"Marsters." A voice said coldly.

"Morrows." She answered.

"THRUSH is concerned, Marsters. About your loyalty."

"THRUSH has deeper concerns, if you want my opinion. I did my job, Jason. You did yours. There's no more reason for us to speak."

"Who are you meeting here tonight?" He asked, taking a step closer.

"Meeting? I--"

"Don't lie to me. You're meeting someone here, that man I saw you with. Does he know about what you are, Marsters? Does he know about what you've done?"

"He is none of your concern."

"Old friend... you know, old friends don't tend to last long when you leave THRUSH."

"Who said I was leaving?" She asked defensively.

"You love him." Morrows sneered. "You want to settle down, have his children?"

"I despise children." Violet snorted.

"Come with me. We shouldn't talk here."

"Bit late for that, isn't it?"

"Come with me." He said, his tone harder. She saw the outline of a gun in his pocket.

---/-/---

"Late, late, I'm gonna be late..." David Dunne drummed his hands on the steering wheel and glared at the pickup ahead.

Violet was waiting at the café. Violet... how long had it been since he'd seen her? After high school, she went back to England, and hadn't kept in touch, and then, just a couple days before, he'd been in town, and there she was.

She'd dropped a lot of weight, she had told him proudly. He hadn't rememembered her as fat, but even if she was then, she looked great now. She still had the same hair, carnelian, curving under at the bottom, neck-length... she still had the same eyes, green and unfathomably deep. She still had the same quirky sense of humour that had been so like his own back when they met. After two minutes, he was in love with her, and it was almost as though she'd never gone away.

---/-/---

She climbed the hill behind the row of buildings, through the trees. Beyond that, it was woods. No doubt something was in season in the bloody redneck town, and no one would come running if a shot rang out. Who's bright idea was it to stick a town down right by the forest?

Maybe David wouldn't come. Maybe he'd stood her up. Only a few minutes ago, she had been waiting impatiently, and now she hoped he wasn't on his way.

Morrows pulled his gun. Before she knew what she was doing, Violet had stepped closer, between his arm and his body, where he couldn't shoot. She struck him in the nose with her elbow, driving bone into brain, and he dropped.

Suddenly, the world started moving at the speed she was used to, and she stared down at the body, horrified. Not thinking, she ran back down to the café, and into a pair of arms.

"Vi! What's happened? Are you okay?"

She shook her head, pressing closer to him.

"What's wrong?" He pressed, stroking her hair.

"Man... woods... gun... killed..."

"Wait-- what?"

"He had a gun, and then-- I didn't mean to, but I couldn't-- and so I-- and then I-- I killed him!"

"Slow down... breathe... do you need a drink of water, Vi?"

"He had a gun, David, he--" She hung her head. "No... I can't do this, I can't do this... You can't be with me, not if-- Love, there's something about me that you need to know."

"He had a gun. It's okay, it was self defense. It doesn't change the way I feel about you, Violet. Nothing could."

"It's not that!" She wrenched away, feeling a hollow ache in her chest even as she did. "It's more than that..."

---/-/---