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Tales of the Meridian Society! (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

Colin tensed as Jueran’s hand gripped his cock, hating the way the man’s touch made him instantly hard. The pirate was a filthy wreck of a human being, but that didn’t make him any less attractive. Which made it even more difficult to act in a way that would have caused a scene. Because, as much as he wanted to punch him in his smug face, he also wanted to fuck his brains out.

Hell, he wanted to do both.

“It’s certainly why the utensils are arranged the way they are,” he managed. “As an aid to memory.”

“It certainly aided me,” Sam agreed. “When Ah was young, we never had more than one girl.” She considered that. “My pa- my father - still does not. He was hopelessly confused by the table arrangements at our wedding.”

“He did, however, rise to the occasion,” observed the Orifessor. “Once your mother-in-law took him in hand.”

The comment had a curious effect on the Ranger. She seemed to choke, then covered her mouth with a napkin before convulsing for a moment. Colin watched her with some concern. “Are you all right?”

“Ah... Ah’m fine...” Sam managed, gasping a little. “But yeah, Pa... he managed.”

“Are you certain you’re well?” asked the Orifessor

“Yeah. Jes’... just swallowed funny...” Sam said, taking a drink. “So, uhm, outside in. And use your own knife for butter. Are there any rules Ah should be aware of for drinking?”

“The three glasses to the upper right of the plate are yours,” Colin explained, shifting in his seat a little in an effort to add more distance between himself and the pirate. “One is for water, one for red wine, and one for white.” He paused. “Uhm, don’t slurp?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Ah wasn’t born in a barn,” she muttered. “Nearly, But ma made it inside in time.”
 
Erik, too, choked a little on his wine when the Professor mentioned his mother taking Sam's father in hand. Fortunately he had already nearly finished with his sip and was able to swallow without too much of a production. Gently he patted his wife on the back and poured a glass of water for her. The wedding had mostly gone off without a hitch but that...that had been an hour or two of just pure chaos. He just wanted to forget about the whole thing. Anne Marie arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing them both, but said nothing. He was certain Sam would tell her about it sooner or later...but he most certainly didn't want to be present when she did.

Captain Drake shifted in his seat slightly, but it did little to discourage Kieran from pursuing him. He couldn't do much, after all, without drawing attention to them. Slowly he sneaked down Drake's zipper, massaging his dick slowly while eating his salad. It was a shame he'd be sat between two women on the night of the party; he'd noticed that seating at fancy dinners always seemed to go man-woman, and teasing Colin throughout an entire six courses, until he was begging him to pound his ass into submission or to suck his cock dry, would have been an absolute riot. Still, he'd take what he could get while he could get it.

"Wine is always served with dinner, and this evening champagne and fruit will be served with dessert," Anne Marie informed Sam, ignoring her comment about nearly being born in a barn. She was certain she knew not to discuss something like that at a formal dinner, "but getting drunk is frowned upon. I suggest no more than one or two glasses per course, personally, unless you have prior experience in which you know what sort of tolerance you have. The food helps, but servings are small--generally smaller the more courses there are--so don't depend upon that to keep your wits about you."

At each course Jean Pierre and Stefan gave overviews of the course and the wine, respectively, and the others were accommodating when it came to Sam and Kieran's questions. The pirate, for his part, teased Colin throughout the salad course, but was disappointed when he had to bring his hand above the table for the entree. Although he'd had roast duck, he'd never had duck confit before. It tasted like salty roast duck to him, but who was he to say what was fancy? Dessert was poached pear with sweet mascarpone--mostly because Anne Marie wanted opinions on it before serving it at the party--followed by a lemon chiffon cake. By the same slight of hand as the previous two courses, Stefan slipped her ginger beer instead of champagne. To Kieran's wicked pleasure, dessert was also a one-handed affair, leaving him free to get Colin riled up again.

"God that was good," Kieran said, stretching once dessert had been taken away.

"Inappropriate language and gestures for the dinner table," Erik pointed out gently. The pirate scowled at him.

"Glad I'm not you lot, then," he shot back. "'S late though, innit?" He looked at the grandfather clock in the corner, which read almost eleven. Dinner and dessert had taken nearly four hours. "If that's how long three courses takes, we'll have to start eating six at two in the afternoon."

"I asked them to stretch it out," Anne Marie informed him. "Both to ensure we had room for both desserts, and to give you an idea of how long you'll have to keep up small talk with the baronet or duchess next to you."

The pirate gave her a long stare. "Right." He bit off any scathing remarks about aristocracy, keeping in mind that she herself had a title (the Professor probably did too, if he knew him at all). "Anyway, thanks for dinner, the pears were delicious, but I'm turning in." He subtly adjusted himself before standing, his hand just barely brushing Colin's shoulder as he passed.
 
Sam poked cautiously at something that resembled a chicken leg coated with grease. “What,” she asked hesitantly, “is this?”

“Duck confit,” Colin replied.

“Right,”. She poked it with her fork again. “Why’s it slimy?”

-*-

Colin shifted uneasily as Kieran left, achingly hard and horny as hell. Why the hell did he allow that man to get to him like that? Because he’s sexy and hung like a stallion, a traitor part of his brain answered. God damn it, he wanted to fuck. He wanted to go after Kieran and just go at him, pound all his frustration and fury out in a desperate frenzy of lust.

“Y’all right?” Sam asked, looking at him.

“Yes,” he lied. “I fear I just ate a little too much.” God damn it, she wasn’t helping. Now he just wanted her, too. Wanted her and Kieran, and that wasn’t going to happen. She was happy, and she and Erik were happy, and Kieran was a bastard, and both of them looked so amazingly good when they fucked... “If you’ll excuse me,” he murmured, discretely arranging himself before rising, “I think I’ll go lie down.”

-*-

Sam finished off the last of her cake, and watched Colin go. “Poor fellah’s still got it bad,” she murmured, leaning against Erik. “Pity he an’ Kieran are fightin’ right now. Ah reckon they made each ither real happy.”

She sighed contentedly, resting her head on Erik’s shoulder. “Marian’s got Gideon all th’ rest o’ th’ night,” she whispered. “Wanna make me real happy?”

-*-

“A delightful meal,” Algernon remarked as Erik and Samantha left the dining room hand in hand. He envies them that happiness, their ability to be open in their affections. “I would say Jean Paul has outdone himself, but he does so each time I am fortunate to dine in your hom.”

Picking up his wine glass, he circled the table and took the seat Kieran had vacated. “And what if you, my dear?” Gently, he rested his hand on hers “is the lemon agreeing with you? I understand that, from time to time, it can upset sensitive stomachs.”
 
"Oh does he?" Anne Marie teased, arching an eyebrow. "Then I must say, Professor, that you seem to be astounded on a shockingly regular basis." She chuckled and kissed his cheek lightly when he sat next to her.

"And what of you, my dear?" Algernon rested his hand on hers, looking concerned. "Is the lemon agreeing with you? I understand that, from time to time, it can upset sensitive stomachs."

"Citron for the petit citron," she answered, looking a little weary but happy. "And Stefan chose drinks which were very soothing, particularly for dessert. The mascarpone...was it off? It tasted off." She crinkled her nose momentarily. "I admit one of the reasons I had it served was to see if it tasted strange to anyone else. I was barely able to eat half. The ginger beer and cake were much more soothing." Anne Marie checked the same clock Kieran had and sighed. "We ought to get some sleep," she said at length. "It will be a long day tomorrow."

~*~

"Madame, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with Drake, I--!" The pirate barged into Anne Marie's room bright and early without knocking. Sometimes he knocked, sometimes he didn't. He froze at her surprised yelp, a sound he'd never heard her make before. Nor had she ever covered her breasts in front of him. What was the point? "Am I in the middle of something?" he asked archly, arching an eyebrow and smirking.

"Not at all," Anne Marie said smoothly, letting the blankets fall and pushing her hair out of her face. "It's first thing in the morning and you startled me. That's all."

"Riiiight," Kieran answered slyly, his eyes darting around the room. "And you always sleep naked, I'm sure."

"Who are you to know how I sleep?" she asked testily. "You've never stayed long enough. And I was always awake before you and Colin anyway. Yearwood," she added at his confused look. "You remember him, I'm sure?"

"Yeah, sure." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking very uncomfortable at the topic. The pirate sniffed once, twice, then looked around. "That's a man's aftershave," he noted. It was vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it. "You never take clients in here, and you're never this secretive about it. Madame do you...do you have a boyfriend?" He looked at her incredulously, noting that the tables had turned and it was her turn to look uncomfortable. "You do! You've got a boyfriend!"

"A boyfriend?! Please!" she spat. "Sullying my good name and reputation with a boyfriend? I've never heard such a ridiculous accusation in all my life! A boyfriend! Really, Kieran! Shame on you!"

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much!" The pirate was looking positively gleeful. "C'mon, Anne Marie, just admit it. No shame in having a boyfriend."

"I won't because there is nothing to admit," she insisted. "Having a boyfriend would imply that I care for someone enough to give my heart to him, and I think we've rather established that I have no heart. It is long cold and dead."

Kieran thought on it, then shrugged. "Got me there," he admitted. "So why's it smell like aftershave and your hair's all mussy?"

"Because I've only just woken up," she had the air of explaining something very simple to someone very dull, "and contrary to belief I do occasionally take patients in here, as I did yesterday evening between tea and dinner. Not that it's any of your business. Now if you'd be so kind as to allow me to dress and prepare for the day?"

"Er...right." Kieran scratched the back of his neck again and turned to leave. "But one day you will get a boyfriend, and I'll be the first to know!"

"Your powers of deduction will astound all of Europe," she agreed, rolling her eyes. She let out a breath when he closed the door, then locked it behind him. No doubt he would be listening at the keyhole, so instead of calling to him she joined Algie in the walk-in closet where he had gone to retrieve his clothing for the day and had been wise enough to remain at the intrusion. "That was very close," she sighed, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. "We must tell our petit citron that he may not have a sibling until he is born, hm?" She kissed the back of his neck and smiled. Augmenting her already considerable libido, pregnancy seemed to agree with her more often than not when it wasn't making her sick, and she had been running the poor Professor positively ragged with her demands. The morning had begun nearly an hour earlier with her lips on his cock, and she had only minutes before Kieran barged in allowed him out of bed to begin the day, but only after seriously considering faking sick and making him tend to her at least until lunch time.
 
Algernon shifted uncomfortably, wishing he’d had a chance to put on pants before he kept into the wardrobe. Or, at the very least, that the wardrobe had a bloody chair. Or even that Kieran understood concepts like knocking or waiting for an invitation. But none of those things were true, it seemed, and so he was trapped and forced to listen to the man’s incessant blather. When he finally left, dismissed by Anne Marie, he heaved a sigh of relief.

“That was very close," his lover sighed, John ning him in the closet. Her warm body leaned into his backleaning her cheek against hi back.

“Any closer,” Algernon grumbled, “and I would have been forced to kill him.” Grinning, he held up a silk stocking. “Look, I was even prepared to take action!”

“We must tell our petit citron that he may not have a sibling until he is born, hm?"

“Do you think he will listen?” he scoffed, turning and wrapping his arms around her bare body. “You were never particularly obedient, unless it suited you. And I?” He grinned. “My father threatened me regularly with military school, because of my attitude to authority. I’ve always preferred giving orders to taking them.”

With that he leaned in to kiss her, pressing her back against the wall of the wardrobe. As he did he caught her wrist, tying the stocking around it and passing the silk over the rail before tying her other wrist. “For instance,” he whispered, hands slowly caressing her raised arms, “you quite flagrantly disobeyed me, waking me early when I specifically said that you wore me out last night..”

His fingers trailed lower, stroking over her mound. She was wet, and he could feel his seed in her as he parted her. “Now,” he whispered, fingers stretching her open, “however should I punish you..?”

-*-

Sam nestled her cheek against Erik’s chest, listening to the rapid pounding of his heart. His hands moved slowly over her bare back and she sighed contentedly, enjoying the feel of his thick cock still pulsing gently in her. “Gawd,” she murmured, kissing him gently. “Y’always feel good in me. But yet jes’ so damn hard in th’ mornin’.” She grinned, kissing him again. “Gawd Ah’m lucky.”

Sighing against n, she pulled the comforter back over them and tried to pretend that she didn’t need to get up. “Busy day today, Ah guess. Ah wanted ya spend th’ day wit’ you an’ Gideon, seein’ th’ sights. But Ah reckon Ah gotta learn ya throw me a fancy party instead, an’ learn how ta’ behave at one.”

She tried to give him a petulant pout, an effect spoiled by the fact that she’d never managed a successful pout in her life. “Ah don’ wanna!” she complained playfully.

-*-

Colin sat on the balcony of his room, drinking tea and eating a buttered scone and reading the paper. The indomitable Jean Paul was at that very moment crafting a wild mushroom omelette for his breakfast, so he nibbles at the scone. No sense filling up just yet, after all.

There was a knock at the door. “Kieran,” he bristled, “if that’s you I’ll...” What? Punch him? Fuck his brains out? What? Frowning, he shoved the thought away. “Yes?”

“Heliograph pour vous, Monsieur,” came the reply.

Well. That was curious. Folding the newspaper, he wrapped his robe about himself and opened the door. The servant on the other side bowed slightly and presented a thin sheet of thermal paper, folded over and sealed. Thanking the man, he closed the door and opened the seal.

“COLIN,” it read. “WILL BE IN PARIS THIS AM STOP VISITING TWO WEEKS STOP MEET ME AT GARE D’AUSTERLITZ NOON STOP GERTRUDE END”

“Well,” he remarked to the walls. “This won’t complicate matters.”
 
The early morning was pleasant for most of the residents of Hotel Carnivalet. Anne Marie had made great strides in the past year and a half, and was now able to handle and usually even enjoy her hands being restrained, so long as that restraint could easily be pulled or cut away. The frequency of her purchase of stockings had rather skyrocketed since this discovery. Erik, for his part, was content to give his wife more excuses to stay in bed longer rather than begin her training in moving about in society. Kieran entertained himself in the billiards room, mulling over both Anne Marie's strange behavior this morning and Colin's lack of appearance last night. Had he lost his touch? Given the profusion of early risers, most everyone was gathered in the library by quarter to eight.

"Samantha, I would be remiss if I did not spend at least a few hours showing you how to throw a proper party," Anne Marie said, scanning her bookshelf. With a small noise of satisfaction she found what she was looking for and started pulling out ring binders and setting them in large stacks on a nearby desk. "But shall we break for lunch? Say, eleven o'clock? You ought to have a few hours to begin Gideon's cultural education, and we can meet back for tea."

"We've already begun his cultural education," Erik pointed out. "We've taken him to many of the historical sites in Berlin, as well as an opera."

"I meant real culture, not Germanic dreck," Anne Marie teased, locating several notepads and pens. "Meanwhile I suppose the rest of you are free to do whatever you think may help us in this endeavor. Professor Swift you...well, you do whatever it is you do for these things." Behind the others' backs she raised her eyebrows in a very slight but very significant way which implied do me. "Unless we discover new information I cannot imagine there would yet be anything else to do. We will meet back for supper, nes pas? Except, of course, Samantha. Party planning takes much more than a few hours." She was wondering whether she had been obvious enough that Algie would pick up on her conspiracy to ensure the house was empty between eleven and three. For someone so brilliant and so good at espionage, he was sometimes so very deplorable at picking up on hints.

"Lesson one," she said, tucking a binder under her arm and waving dismissively at the others, "color schemes." Anne Marie sat down next to Sam on a couch, setting the binder on the coffee table and handing her a pen and notepad before taking one herself.
 
Endless hours dragged on as Sam studied, or tried to study - the intracies of planning an Event. “Gawd,” she groaned. “Ah reckon it’d be simpler ta learn to be a lawyer.”

“No doubt,” Algernon observed from a chair. He’d been sitting there the whole time, reading. “A lawyer only deals with lives.”

“It’s gonna take me more’n a few hours ya get this,” she sighed, then glanced at her watch. “Ah reckon it’s lunch time, though. Best be gettin’ mah menfolk an’ gettin’ me a real lesson in culture. Erik wanted ta take me ta th’ Louvre,” she glanced sideways at Anne Marie, “so Ah reckon we’ll be gone ‘till dinner.”

Her chair scraped as she rose. “We’ll see y’all around six,” she said.

Algernon closed his book, and stared at the door as it closed. “Perhaps you are correct,” he remarked. “She is too damn clever for her own good.”
 
Anne Marie was in the middle of a lecture on eggshell versus ecru and the importance of invitation fonts when Sam announced that it was time for lunch. With surprise she looked at the clock to see that it was, indeed, nearly eleven. She tilted her head when she announced that since Erik had wanted to take her to the Louvre they would be gone until that evening. Anne Marie had been to the Louvre several times and unless one got lost in appreciating a fine work--and Sam didn't strike her as much of a fine art lover--it didn't take seven hours.

"But I said--"

"We'll see y'all around six," Sam said over her shoulder as she whisked out the door.

"Three," Anne Marie finished lamely. She sighed and rubbed her face. "At this rate I shall count myself blessed if she knows the difference between pearl and linen before the week is out."

"Perhaps you are correct," Algie remarked. "She is too damn clever for her own good."

"I hate to say I told you so..." she smiled and rose, perching once again on the arm of his chair. It was bad for the furniture, she knew, but it was a gesture she was fond of and it made her feel a bit like a real wife sometimes. She kissed the top of his head and leaned down, not bothering to ensure her already swelling bosoms stayed out of his face as she plucked his book from his hands, marked the page, and closed it. Setting it on a nearby side table, she took his hand. "Come with me, Professor Swift," she invited, tugging him out of his chair. "I want your opinion on a few things for the party."

Knowing that the children were out for the afternoon, Anne Marie felt more at liberty to lead her love around by the hand as she did between cases when they had the house to themselves. Answering his questioning looks with nothing but a smile she pulled him down a flight of stairs, to the west wing of the ground floor, into the billiards room.

"What do you think?" she asked, closing the door behind herself and neglecting to lock it. There was no need, not for a few hours at least. "Is this room appropriate for entertaining guests?" Anne Marie moved to the curtains, tugging the ornately tasseled curtain ties open and letting the heavy drapes fall closed before moving to the cue rack. "I am sometimes concerned that some of the ladies might find such a thing a little...low-brow. But when you have as many people as we plan on inviting, anything to keep the gentlemen entertained, right?" She set the curtain ties on the table and seemed to measure with her eyes just how long the cue was, holding it horizontally, before nodding with satisfaction. She had long legs and good balance, after all; surely she would be able to keep herself stable, particularly if she kept her hands on the edge of the table. Absently she played with the cue ball Kieran had left there after his game that morning. "And of course, there is always the concern of being called away from my guests in the middle of the evening. Should your daughter demand a little brother again, surely at least Paul would notice that I had disappeared..." She smiled enticingly, moving slowly toward him with a sway in her hips, untying his necktie.
 
“I hate to say I told you so..." Anne Marie smiled sweetly, perching on the arm of his chair.

“No you don’t,” Algernon replied, inserting a bookmark and then resting his head on her arm, smiling as she kissed the top of his head. “I dare say it’s a hobby of yours, really.”

“Come with me, Professor Swift," she invited, tugging him out of his chair. "I want your opinion on a few things for the party."

“If you insist,” he sighed theatrically, allowing her to tug him from his chair and lead him through the house. He looked about curiously as she took him down the stairs, but held his tongue. She loved her games and theatrical flourishes as much as he did, after all. No sense in spoiling it with too many questions that she wouldn’t answer yet.

"What do you think?" she asked, leading him at last into the billiards room. "Is this room appropriate for entertaining guests?"

“It depends on the nature of the entertainment,” he replied dryly as she tugged the curtains closed and draped the ties on a table.

"I am sometimes concerned that some of the ladies might find such a thing a little...low-brow,” she remarked, examining a cue. “But when you have as many people as we plan on inviting, anything to keep the gentlemen entertained, right?"

“Quite frequently,” he assured her, moving close and resting his hands on her hips, “gentlemen are easily amused. It may be more important to reflect on how one would entertain the ladies.”

“And of course, there is always the concern of being called away from my guests in the middle of the evening,” she continued, making a performance of unknotting his tie. “Should your daughter demand a little brother again, surely at least Paul would notice that I had disappeared..."

“Monsieur Le President strikes me as a man of greater discretion than he let’s on,” Algernon smiled, lifting Anne Marie onto the billiards table with the slightest of grunts. “He has, after all, kept his salacious novel about the infamous Madame Fleuriste a secret for more than a decade.” His tie whispered from around his neck and down his chest a he kissed her. “It almost makes a man wonder what the novel was about.”

He leaned into another kiss, pushing her back until she had to brace herself on the velvet surface of the table. “Imagine the scene,” he whispered, slowly pulling his tie from her grip. “The nefarious Madame Fleuriste is toying with her latest victim, enticing him to vulnerability.” He kissed her again, sliding the smooth silk of his tie over her throat. Then, with a grin, he gripped her arm and gently twisted it behind her back. “When suddenly! Her victim proves to be none other than the legendary detective Monsieur Lecoq!”

Smiling, he bound first one wrist and then the other behind her back, the pressure of her arms drawing the silk taut against her throat. “What,” he windered, stroking her cheek as he stared hungrily at her, “would my infamous murderess be willing to do to avoid going to the gallows?”
 
"Yes, well, those are his own secrets," Anne Marie pointed out, pushing herself onto the wood as Algernon lifted her. They would throw off the balance of the table if they did this too often...but she supposed that just meant that next time they would have to be sure to be on the other end. "It is my own I do not trust him with."

"It almost makes a man wonder what the novel was about."

She smiled. "Indeed," she agreed, "just how salacious he imagines this notorious serial killer to be." Algie leaned into another kiss, forcing her to lean backwards until she had to brace herself upon the table with her hands.

"Imagine the scene," he whispered, taking his tie back. "The nefarious Madame Fleuriste is toying with her latest victim, enticing him to vulnerability." She liked where this was going, yet another scene in their ongoing play of international intrigue. Her heart rate rose as he slid his tie over her throat, but she said nothing for now. Perhaps he was just trying to entice. Algie had, after all, expanded her boundaries enormously in the past year and a half. It was worth a try for this one as well. "When suddenly! Her victim proves to be none other than the legendary detective Monsieur Lecoq!" He gripped her arm and twisted it gently behind her wrist.

"You!" she hissed, playing along despite her discomfort. She had laughed the first time Lecoq had made his appearance, and sometimes she still laughed at the name, but she wasn't laughing now. Not with the tie knotting around her wrists and pulling against her throat. "How did you find me?"

"What," Algernon wondered, stroking her cheek as he stared hungrily at her, "would my infamous murderess be willing to do to avoid going to the gallows?"

"Untie me and find out." Anne Marie slid one foot up his leg, her dress sliding up to her knee as she wrapped it around his hip to pull him closer. She didn't want to ruin their game with reality, but they had found a boundary she was not yet willing to cross. There was too much trauma attached. "It is a little difficult to think when I can already feel the noose around my throat." She jerked him against the table with her leg and leaned in to kiss him hard. "You're nothing but another crooked cop, Lecoq," she murmured, lips brushing against his. "Why do you think I keep letting you catch up to me?" She smiled, nibbling on his lower lip, waiting for him to untie her.
 
“Untie me and find out." Anne Marie slid one foot up his leg, her dress sliding up to her knee as she wrapped it around his hip to pull him closer.

“I think, perhaps, I prefer you bound,” Algernon replied, sliding a hand up her silk-stockinged thigh. “You are dangerous, after all, and I’ve no desire to lose my life over you.”

“It is a little difficult to think when I can already feel the noose around my throat,” she replied, an extremely serious tone in her voice.

Ah. Yes. Some games could cut too close. “The hangman will not have your pretty throat, my dear” he replied, lifting her arms so he could slack the rope, slipping it up and behind her head. “Not until I’ve had it, at least.”

She jerked forward, her lips finding his. “You're nothing but another crooked cop, Lecoq.”

“And you are nothing but a murderous harlot, Fleuriste,” he retorted, lingering over the kiss before gripped by the rope that bound her bands. He tugged, forcing her back to arch as he flattened her hands against the velvet of the billiards table.

“Why do you think I keep letting you catch up to me?" she smiled, biting at his lower lip.

Algernon’s free hand continued in her thigh, discovering she wore only a garter belt and stickers bags beneath her gown. “Because,” he murmured, teeth nipping at her throat as his fingers stroked and then parted her folds, “You crave this.” She was wet and warmed two of his fingers pressed into her. “You crave a man who will use you as the whore you are.”
 
It was a relief when he finally cottoned on and slipped the tie over her head. She still wished he had untied her hands completely--she'd had plans for that pool cue, after all--but she would take this. She quirked an eyebrow when Algie claimed he would have her throat before the hangman did.

"Of course that's why you decided to corner me alone this time," Anne Marie sneered before jerking him forward and crushing her lips against his. "You're nothing but another crooked cop, Lecoq."

"And you are nothing but a murderous harlot, Fleuriste," he retorted. Algernon gripped the tie and tugged, forcing her back to arch as she caught herself and flattened her hands against the table.

"Why do you think I keep letting you catch up to me?" she smiled, biting at his lower lip. She let slip a soft moan as he slid his hand up her skirt and slipped two fingers inside of her, nipping at her throat. Her knee pressed against his side, craving so much more than this. "Oh I do, do I?" she challenged. "I seem to recall more than a few instances--mmmm---when I was not the one being used." Anne Marie slid back more, her shoulders aching from the awkward position as her back flattened against the table. "But you are not entirely wrong; I crave a man who challenges me, Lecoq, and so far you are the only one who has. You know how to make me beg." First one knee then the other slid over his shoulders. "And you know when you ought to do the begging. We are more alike than you think, you and I." She smiled as she bent in just the right way and one of her garters snapped loose. She may or may not have intentionally done it improperly this morning.

"Show me your power, Lecoq," she demanded, raising her hips to press his fingers deeper inside her. "Show me the man who knows just what I crave."
 
“
Oh I do, do I?" she challenged. "I seem to recall more than a few instances--mmmm---when I was not the one being used."

“I recall,” Algernon said, sliding a third finger into her as she flattened against the table. His thumb pressed against her clit, massaging it. “I still have a score to settle with you, after our encounter in Istanbul.”

“But you are not entirely wrong; I crave a man who challenges me, Lecoq, and so far you are the only one who has. You know how to make me beg." She spread her legs, sliding them over his shoulders, letting the silk of her stockings caress his skin "And you know when you ought to do the begging. We are more alike than you think, you and I."

His response was lost in a startled gasp as a garter snapped loose. "Show me your power, Lecoq," she demanded, raising her hips to press his fingers deeper inside her. "Show me the man who knows just what I crave."

Smiling a hungry smile, he deliberately withdrew his fingers and held them up. “My power?” he murmured, watching her desire glisten on his fingers before slowly tasting her. Then he reached out and picked up the pool cue she had been using. “You are a thief and a murderess, Fleuriste, and I will have you as one.” He laid the cue acriss her ankles, binding it to one and then the other. “In leg irons, helpless to escape.”

The cue slid over his back as he ducked beneath it, standing within the triangle it formed with her spread legs. “And now, Madame,” he told her, unzipping his trousers, “I will use you as you deserve.” Gripping his length in his fist, he rubbed his head against her slick lips. “You will beg for mercy, before I finish with you.”

-*-

Colin pushed Kieran into the salon wall, hands fisted in the pirate’s dark hair as he leaned in, his mouth hot and hungry on him. “You fucking tease,” he growled. “I’m going to have you.”

It was madness, he knew. A desperate hunger born out of frustration and lust. A madness driven by a restless night as memories of dinner and nights past mingled, making him crave the pirate more and more. He thought he had it under control, but Kieran had descended the stairs as he’d prepared to go meet Gertrude, offering a flirty remark. Banter had escalated, and now...

“Right now,” Colin growled, biting Kieran’s throat and gripping his cock through his trousers. The feel of it, hard and hit, made him hungrier. “Right now.”
 
Kieran let out a small oof as Colin pushed him into the wall, pulling him into a hungry kiss. All he'd said, really, was "such a tight ass on such a tight-ass" and given him a little smack on the rear before telling him to enjoy gay Paris. Certainly he'd been teasing, and would never pass up an opportunity for a bit of light groping...but he hadn't expected this. Not that he was complaining, mind. But he had thought the officer over what had happened between them and back on the right side of the law. He couldn't remember a time in recent memory in which he'd been so glad to be wrong.

"Right now, hm?" he grunted, sighing at the familiar feel of Colin's hand on his shaft and his teeth at his throat. "Right out in front of God and everyone? Where any ol' servant can walk in?" He jerked his chin toward the entryway to the salon, which was right off of the foyer and had no doors. He clenched his fist around the back of Colin's collar and had to use nearly all of his strength to drag him off. "This way," he instructed, dragging the officer a few feet across the carpet before giving him a rough shove toward the foyer. "I've got plans for you, Drake."

~*~

Anne Marie's tongue darted out to lick her lips as she watched Algernon taste her desire from his fingers. She bit her lip and arched her back as an aching thrill of desire bolted through her. God she wanted him! But foreplay was half the fun, was it not? Her swollen breasts heaved and she scooted her hips forward to the edge of the table while he bound her legs to the cue. When he rubbed his head against her lips she groaned and let her head loll back, aware that she was mussing her hair on the table but confident she could fix it before any of the children came home.

"Oh, you'll have the manners to finish with me this time?" she teased with a smirk. "You didn't seem to mind being used yourself, in Istanbul. Or Rome. Or Lebanon." They had spent last Christmas and the months before and after on a working vacation around the Mediterranean coast and had taken a detour to the Black Sea before continuing on to Cyprus. Morocco was beginning to simmer more and more each day now, and Syria and Turkey were a mess, but the Egyptian cotton, the African spices, the tour of Jerusalem, and the games they had played together had been worth it.

Algernon finally entered her and she sighed in arousal and relief. Clenching gently around his shaft, she pushed her hips up toward his and tried to press her knees against his sides. She couldn't, of course; she'd already forgotten that she was bound. But sometimes, she had learned, struggling was fun and sexy, and this was one of those times. So long as she could remember that he hadn't truly taken her prisoner--and why would he?--she could enjoy being used the way he wanted to.
 
“Oh, you'll have the manners to finish with me this time?" she teased with a smirk. "You didn't seem to mind being used yourself, in Istanbul. Or Rome. Or Lebanon."

“You are an impudent hussy,” Algernon smirked back, rubbing his length over her clit, “and you forget yourself. You are in my power now, and I shall do with you as I see fit!” It was ludicrous, melodramatic stuff better suited for a penny dreadful than for lovemaking, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Almost as much as he enjoyed sliding his head between her lips, parting her around him. “You are helpless to stop me,”

He took his time entering her, dragging out the sensation of sinking into her an inch at a time. She writhed beneath him, hips arching as she tried to grip his hips with her thighs and take him deeper and faster. “I think not,” he told her, gripping her shoulders and straining by to hold her still. “There is no escape for you this time, Madame Fleuriste.” Finally his entire length was buried in her, achingly hard against clenching inner walls. “You are mine now, and I will use you as I see fit.”

With that he began moving in her, long slow strokes that pressed his ass against the cue stick binding her ankles before thrusting deep once more. “Scream all you want,” he teased. “No one will hear you.”

-*-

“Right now, hm?" Kieran grunted, the soft burr of his accent caressing the words . "Right out in front of God and everyone? Where any ol' servant can walk in?"

Well. Didn’t that sound hot right now? As did the way he forced him back and literally dragged him across the carpet. “This way," he instructed. "I've got plans for you, Drake."

Colin swept his arm around, breaking the pirate’s grip and twisting his arm up behind his back. “I’ve got plans for you too, Shane,” he growled, pinning Kieran’s chest against the wall with his weight. He rolled his hips, letting him feel his own hard cock against his ass as his teeth scraped the back of his throat. Damn, but Kieran tasted good.

“But I’m feeling indulgent,” he added in a low whisper, nipping the pirate’s ear. “What did you have in mind?”
 
That was his bad shoulder and he knew it! Poor form indeed! Kieran had taken a bullet to that shoulder and it had never been right since; it tweaked a little as Colin pressed him against the wall. He shivered in anticipation when Colin's breath and teeth caressed his throat and he promised that he, too, had plans. Sounded like the sort of power struggle where shit got broken.

He loved those sorts of fights.

"This way," he repeated, grabbing the officer's arm when he finally released him. "And don't you dare try and get cheeky with me again. You're going to regret it as-is." Mostly he wanted to get out of the foyer; servants talked and he had a reputation to keep. With a firm grip on Colin's shirt he dragged him across the marble and into the carpeted hallway on the other side.

~*~

It was difficult to remember sometimes that this was only a game for him, that she had the right to enjoy the game as well. It was difficult sometimes to hear Algernon's voice and not his. But it was her beloved, and so long as she saw that and remembered that she had something to anchor her in the present pleasure. Still, her shoulders ached and she didn't like the idea that no one would hear her if she screamed.

"There is more honey than vinegar in your words, Lecoq," she murmured, moaning as he thrust into her again. The safeword wasn't stop, exactly, but a reminder not to talk like that anymore. Not right now, anyway. "I know how you crave me." Anne Marie leaned up and kissed him hard. "How you will always let me go. You're addicted to the chase, and you're afraid to admit it. Afraid to admit how you cry out for me, beg for my pleasure in the middle of the night when you think no one can hear you."

~*~

"Get in there," Kieran barked, shoving Colin roughly towards the billiards room. He had plans for a certain pool cue. "And don't you fucking dare--"

"--you cry out for me, beg for my pleasure in the middle of the night when you think no one can hear you." Madame LaMonte was on her back, sprawled across the table, her wrists bound and arms stretched awkwardly behind her. Leaning over her with his face in her decolletage, pinning her shoulders to the table and thrusting between her thighs was--

"Oh my God..."

It was a soft curse from behind Kieran's hand but it was apparently loud enough for Madame LaMonte to hear. The pirate wasn't sure he had ever seen her caught quite so off-guard as to be clumsy or disheveled, and it was an unnatural sight. Her eyes were wide and her hair entirely out of place as she tried to use her bound arms to scramble to push herself into a sitting position. The billiards cue bound to her ankles kept hitting Professor Swift in the back of the thighs as she...well, flailed was probably the right word for it.

"Algie," she said as she struggled, unable to think of anything else. "Algernon!" The shock of being caught in such an intimate, compromising position had wiped her mind blank of all training, all composure, all reasonable response. It wasn't what they were doing--a few wives or friends had walked in on her before--so much as with whom she was doing it which was so mortifying.

"I knew it!" It was all the pirate could think to say, rooted to the spot. Madame LaMonte he had seen naked and put into compromising positions plenty of times, but Professor Swift...well, he was practically a monk, wasn't he? And the two of them...?? "I knew you had a--"

"Get out!!"

He had never heard Anne Marie LaMonte shriek like that before, nor had he ever seen her blush when it wasn't carefully calculated. Knowing better than to press his luck, he grabbed Colin by the shoulder and dragged him back out into the hallway, slamming the door behind them. The entire exchange had taken maybe thirty seconds. Kieran stood there in the hallway with a bemused expression. Between the shock and seeing Professor Swift's cock his erection had wilted almost entirely; it was like walking in on your parents, really.

"Well that's..." He wasn't sure what it was. He had always imagined the two of them two professional for casual trysts with coworkers--his had been therapy, of course--and... "Wait, your name is Algernon?" he called through the door. Certainly he had never thought his first name was Professor, but the idea had never occurred to him that he even had a first name, never mind one so stuffy. "I mean--"

"One more word and I shall ensure your unidentifiable body washes out of the Seine in small pieces six months from now." Even through the door Anne Marie sounded mortified.

"Right," he muttered, jerking his head back the way they had come and looking at Colin. "Let's uh...go back to the salon, shall we?"
 
“There is more honey than vinegar in your words, Lecoq," she murmured, moaning as he thrust into her again.

“Is there, Fleuriste?” Algernon asked, gently sliding his hands over her hips. The first time they had played this game it had proved to be a little too intense for his love, playful words dredging up terrible memories. She had suggested ‘vinegar’ as a safe word, a way to ask him to ease back without stopp By, and he had always complied. “If so, it is only because of how much I desire you.”

"I know how you crave me." Anne Marie leaned up and kissed him hard. "How you will always let me go.”

“I will never let you go,” he insisted, driving harder into her. “Only permit you to flee, so that I may chase you.”

“You're addicted to the chase, and you're afraid to admit it,” she responded, arching her back and sighing as he bit gently at the soft skin between her breast. “Afraid to admit how you cry out for me, beg for my pleasure in the middle of the night when you think no one can hear you."

“When I pleasure myself, thinking of your embrace,” he murmured against her skin. “When I...”

Everything went wrong at once. “Oh my God,” cried out in an Irish accent and Annie calling his name, not in delight but in shock and horror. He craned his head, following her eyes, and found himself staring at the startled faces of the Captains Drake and Shane.

"I knew it!" Kieran called out, sounding off-kilter and strangely triumphant. "I knew you had a--"

It’s not what it looks like. The stray thought, a comedic denial from popular plays he’d seen, stole through his mind and threatened to make him burst out laughing. It certainly was what it looked like. What else could I be?

He was glad he stifled the laugh as Annie unleashed her temper on the unfortunate Irishman. Browbeaten and positively dragged away by Colin, the unfortunate pirate made a strategic retreat. Sadly, the damage was already done. The mood and, more importantly the secret of their affair of the heart, was irrevocably shattered.

“That was... unfortunate,” Algernon sighed, kissing Annie gently and untying her wrists. “Shall I dispose of them? They have been ill-tempered towards one another if late. It would not be hard to make it appear a crime if passion.”

-*-

“Yes, yes we shall,” Colin agreed, no longer aroused as he withdrew from the billiards room. “And swiftly.”

He felt numb as he walked beside Kieran, unsure what to do with the revelation that had burst upon him. The Professor, and Anne Marie. “It... makes a certain sense, does it not?” The words were slow, as if he had to labor at uttering them. “They were always... close.”

Pouring a stiff brandy and a tall whisky, he handed Kieran his drink and stared back at the hall that led towards the billiards room. “I...” he began, then took a drink. Certain behaviors and mannerisms, little things he’d seen one or the other do, now were shockingly plain in hindsight. As were little looks and remarks made by Sam. She knew, he realized. She knew, and never said

The reason was plain. Colin knew a little something of the details of the career of Professor Algernon Swift. And the parts he didn’t know, the elements classified Most Secret by the Home Office, spoke volumes. Both of them had enemies, enemies willing to strike through a loved one. “I think,” he said, starting again, “that we should say nothing of this. To anyone. Ever.”
 
"No," Anne Marie said quietly, pushing herself all the way up and clinging to Algernon's shoulders. She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, biting on the inside of her lip in an effort to stop the tears from coming. There was no reason to cry, none at all. She should be furious, willing to walk into the salon and shoot them both between the eyes for what they had seen. And she was...but she didn't want to. She couldn't, and she couldn't let Algie do it. She instead felt humiliated, saddened that the secrecy had come to an end, upset that Algernon's dignity had been compromised in front of anyone on the team but most especially in front of them.

"No," she whimpered again, sniffling and still hiding her face in his shoulder. "It isn't f..." Fairness had never been a consideration before. It oughtn't be now. She sniffed and approached it from a different angle. "We should...we should go speak with them. We need the team...we're no good with only half of our backup." It was no good. The tears fell anyway and her fingers dug into his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she sniffed through her tears. "There's no reason for me to...It's...it must be the baby, I...I don't know why..." She gave up on the sentence and let herself sink into him, clinging to him while she sat on the edge of the table until she could gather herself.

~*~

He still knew his drink. Kieran noticed this as he took a gulp or two of whiskey before slowing down. After that sight, he needed something incredibly strong and Colin seemed to automatically remember just how to fix it.

"It...makes a certain sense, does it not?" Colin said shakily. "They were always...close." Kieran nodded slowly, still sipping his drink. "I think," he said, starting again, "that we should say nothing of this. To anyone. Ever."

"Aye," Kieran agreed. "Don't think they'd much appreciate it, or that anyone would ever believe us." He sank into a chair, then bounced to his feet again at the thought that maybe they had...Well, they had an awful lot of downtime together between missions, didn't they? God knew what they had done, or where they had done it. "I think--"

The door burst open and Anne Marie came striding in briskly. Her hair was put back together, her makeup redone, her dress unwrinkled. She took a seat in a wingbacked chair, sinking into it and aiming her pistol at them. Nonchalantly she pulled back the hammer, still aiming it at them, her finger on the trigger.

"If either of you intend to say anything to anyone, even to your own teammates, your own family, tell me now," she said said calmly. "I prefer to have you on your feet, armed, and facing me when I kill you; I think after all the missions we've carried out together I owe the two of you that much."

Kieran raised his eyebrows, a smirk playing at his lips. "Madame, we've been friends for nigh on a decade! You wouldn't--"

"Wouldn't I?" The aim of barrel of the gun moved from between the two of them to squarely between the pirate's eyes, threatening to blow apart the shocked expression. "I know that you and I play our games, Kieran, but believe me when I'm saying that I am not playing now." Madame Fleuriste's voice was calm and measured, soft, but with a deadly serious tone and a steely glint in her eye. "We are not going to pretend that what just happened did not happen. What you two have seen is a threat to me and to whom I hold very dear. Testing the limits to which I am willing to go to protect that will not end well for you, I'm afraid, friends or not."

"I believe you," the pirate said, slowly setting his drink down and holding his hands up near his shoulders. He wasn't going to go for a weapon, not on Anne Marie. Something deep inside didn't believe her, although his brain knew that she had never been one to make idle threats and empty promises. "Let's have some trigger discipline, hey?"

"Are you implying that I do not intend to pull the trigger?" She uncrossed her ankles and sat forward in her seat.

"Not at all," he replied carefully. "I just don't want any nasty accidents is all. Let's just...calmly talk this out."

"Who isn't calm?" Anne Marie's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. She gestured to the sofa with the pistol. "Have a seat then and let us talk, the three of us. Four, if Algernon ever cares to join us." She glanced for a split second at the door before returning to the captains.

"Alright then," Kieran said softly, slowly moving to the couch and sitting with his hands still up. He looked at Colin then jerked his chin towards the cushion next to him. "Let's talk."
 
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“I am,” Colin announced as he sat down, “going to reach into my breast pocket and retrieve my cigarette case. I tell you this, Madam, because I do not wish to be shot.”

Anne Marie deflected the barrel of the gun a fraction of an inch, which he chose to take as acceptance. Moving deliberately, using the motion to cover his nerves, he withdrew the case and lit the cigarette. The sharp scent of burning tobacco filled the air as he drew in a lung full of smoke and inhaled. “I am,” he said, crossing one leg over the other and staring at Anne Marie, “rather insulted that you think so little of me as to believe you need to threaten me to maintain my silence.”

God, he wished he could capture Kieran’s expression in a photograph. “You know something of my sexual preferences, certainly after Sam’s indiscretions at Christmas. Probably sooner, if I am any judge of your intellect and powers of observation.” He took another puff. “And yet, I have maintained a career in His Majesty’s Royal Aeronavy and have at the same time protected similar secrets of other men in the service.”

Breathing smoke, he met Anne Marie’s eyes without flinching. “What I am saying, my dear Countess de Sevigne, is that your threat,” he gestured at the gun, “was unnecessary. All you would need have done is ask, and I should have been delighted as your friend and as a gentleman to preserve your secrets.”

He stared at her for a moment, then stubbed out the cigarette. “Now,” he said calmly, rolling his wrist, “will you take me at my word? Or must we learn whether you can shoot fast enough and accurately enough to kill the both of us before we can reach our own weapons? Because, my dear Countess de Sevigne, I am willing to give freely that which I will not yield by force.”

He tensed, ready to fling himself from the chair and reach for his gun. It was bravado, of course. He’d seen Anne Marie LaMonte shoot, and was sure he would die if she pulled the trigger. Heart pounding in his chest, he watched to see what she would do.

“Samantha is correct,” Algernon Swift remarked. “Your language does become stilted and overly-correct when you are angry.”

Colin started. He hadn’t even seen the Professor enter the room. Now he watched, anxious, as their leader took a seat next to Anne Marie. He wasn’t quite as well put together as she was, but one certainly wouldn’t know to look at him that he’d been caught in flagrate delecto mere moments ago. Watched as the Professor rested a gentle hand on Anne Marie’s forearm. “My dear,” he murmured, “I believe we can trust Captain Drake to keep his word.” A brief pause. “And Captain Shane as well, if he grants it.”
 
"Those are your secrets," Madame Fleuriste countered tersely as Colin smoked perhaps half of a cigarette before stubbing it out, "forgive me for wishing to protect my own. It is not that I do not trust you to keep your mouth shut, but my dear Captain Drake if I figured out your proclivities long before Samantha's indiscretions, what makes you think I have enough confidence that my enemies could not suss it out from you?" In the corner of her eye she saw Algie lean against the door frame, but didn't acknowledge him for now. He had his own style, after all. "As for whether I might be able to shoot you while you attempt to reach for your weapon, well..." She chuckled softly. "I know for a fact you would rather not test that hypothesis."

"Samantha is correct," Algernon Swift remarked. "Your language does become stilted and overly-correct when you are angry."

"She is quite adept at tells, is she not?" Madame LaMonte put in casually. He took a seat next to her and rested his hand gently on her forearm.

"My dear," he murmured, "I believe we can trust Captain Drake to keep his word." A brief pause. "And Captain Shane as well, if he grants it."

"Yeah of course," Kieran agreed quickly, still unable to quite believe that Anne Marie would actually kill him. "I'll take it to my grave. Later rather than sooner, if I get any say about it." He nodded at the gun.

The muscles in Anne Marie's shoulders and face visibly relaxed. Sitting back in her chair, she took her finger off of the trigger, uncocked the gun, and reengaged the safety. The pirate had always had an idea that Professor Swift might hold more sway over her than they let on--particularly from the way she had complained about him when they had gotten drunk together in Bordeaux--but it seemed now as though he was a man holding a tiger upon a very fragile chain. She set the gun upon the small table between herself and the Professor, within easy reach but for now pointed away from them.

"Forgive me," she said with a smile which seamed a little weary. "I wished to ensure you knew the seriousness of this situation. Not that I make empty threats," she added, inclining her head toward the gun. "But I--we both--have very deadly, persistent, unconscionable enemies. To have attachments is to have weakness, and there are a good many people who would give a lot of money to know our weaknesses. I am afraid that trust does not come as easily to me as I may have let on."

"Could've fooled me," Kieran snorted before sitting up and holding up his hands again when she looked sharply at him. "Joking! Jesus Christ..."

"When Erik and Samantha have returned we shall hold a meeting," Anne Marie said after another moment or two of glaring daggers at the pirate. "So far we have not talked about internal fraternization because what the rest of you do is none of our business and we do not report it to the Society. Unless, of course, there is paperwork to be filled out when two agents marry; then we somehow just did not pick up on it until it happened. But not only does Erik deserve to be in the loop, but this is a very...different sort of situation."

"Different how?" Kieran felt at ease enough again to reach for his drink, which he desperately needed.

"Think of it as a security briefing," she replied after some thought. "For it is a matter of security. And if through deliberate action or carelessness there is a leak," she paused to look pointedly at one then the other, "well...you have seen how I handle threats." She smiled and reached for a bell on the side table. "Tea?"
 
“I am afraid I shall have to decline,” Colin said, checking his watch. “I really must be leaving, if I am to meet Gertie at the trailn station. I am uncertain if I will be able to return for the, Ah, security briefing. Unless you believe it is vital I attend? She knows I am involved in I telling fence work, and does not ask too many questions.”

“No,” Algernon decided after a glance at Anne Marie. “We can easily catch you up in the morning.”

“Excellent.” Colin rose, and bowed slightly to Anne Marie. “By your leave, my dear Countess.” With that, he turned and stride away.

“I hope,” Algernon said, “that he will come to understand our concern for secrecy. But he is clearly furious right now.” He sighed. “Still, what’s done is done. And tea would be delightful, my dear.” He caught Kieran’s shocked expression. “Oh, come now. Surely, after what you’ve seen, small terms of endearment are not shocking.”
 
"He does seem rather upset," Anne Marie agreed mildly, still looking where Colin had exited. "He's even forgotten that I am a Marquise, in his quest to be so rigidly formal." She shrugged and shook her head, ringing for tea. "He may take it up with me and speak plainly with me about it if it is truly that upsetting for him. Quite frankly I wouldn't have grudged either of you a similar reaction, had you been in my place." This she addressed to Kieran, who was still sitting gobsmacked across from them.

After tea the afternoon passed pleasantly enough. Kieran excused himself to go upstairs and amuse himself, Anne Marie assumed, with whatever flavor today's harlot was. Exhausted by the excitement of their discovery, by the wild mood swings, and by the baby himself the Marquise chose to lie down for a while, eventually cajoling Professor Swift into joining her for at least a little while. If her passion had temporarily waned, her affection hadn't and she just wanted to lie with him for a little bit. When the Heinz-Schmidts returned from their excursion they along with Kieran and, if he was in yet, Colin were summoned to the library for the briefing. Madame LaMonte waited in a chair next to Professor Swift, watching them as they filtered into the library. She'd thought long and hard about what to say, how to say it, but she still felt uncomfortable with so many people knowing. Her stomach churned and she was unsure whether it was the baby or her nerves, or possibly both.

"This briefing is of a more personal nature," Anne Marie began, "but I feel that it is necessary because it is paramount to the security of the team. Nothing said here goes beyond these walls, understood?" She waited for affirmation before taking a deep breath, wishing this could just be over. "The first order of business is to ensure that everyone is, as they say, 'in the loop.' Herr Heinz-Schmidt since you are now the only one who does not know I feel it only fair to inform you that Professor Swift and I are involved. Romantically."

Erik raised his eyebrows at being addressed so forthrightly about so personal a matter. "Oh...I um..." The relationship itself was also very surprising...but it made a sort of sense, he supposed. They'd always seemed rather close, but he was so much older than her and neither of them seemed the emotional type, nor one for close personal attachments. Even now, addressing it openly, they were both stony-faced and impersonal. Contrasted to himself and Samantha, sitting on the couch with their hips nearly touching and loosely holding hands, it seemed almost as if they were making it up despite having no reason to. "Er...Congratulations..." he managed eventually, unsure what else to say.

Polite bafflement had been precisely the reaction she had been expecting from him. "Thank you. We bring it up because it is a matter of security, both to the two of us as individuals and to all of us as a team, that the rather more intimate nature of our relationship," her eyes flicked briefly to Kieran when he cringed, "not be widely known. Everyone has enemies, of course, but the Professor and I both have a rather large number of enemies, many of whom are very clever and exceedingly ruthless. They would not hesitate to strike at either one of us through a loved one, throwing the team into chaos, putting us a man down, and disrupting the way we operate. It is therefore very prudent for the pair of us to not make it known that we have loved ones. The only reason this relationship is being acknowledged openly now is because Samantha has been rather clever," her eyes flicked to Sam this time and it was unclear whether this were a compliment or not, "and worked it out some time ago, while our charming captains stumbled upon the nature of our relationship quite by accident. We thought it fitting to address it, answer questions, and to make it abundantly clear that not a single soul outside of this team hears of it. You are not to discuss it with family or friends, you are not to discuss it with strangers, you are not to discuss it with servants. You are not even to discuss it with my servants. Should either one of us discover an intelligence leak on this matter, particularly if but not contingent upon an attempt upon one of our lives because of it, the unfortunately imprudent party shall bring upon him or herself the wrath of ten thousand angels of vengeance. Do I make myself inescapably clear?" She waited for confirmation from everyone present before continuing.

"Good. Now to a related matter, which cannot be kept secret much longer but which I trust you all to protect to the best of your ability." Anne Marie took a deep breath and glanced at Algernon before taking his hand and allowing herself the smallest of smiles. "Professor Swift and I are expecting a baby."
 
“The only reason this relationship is being acknowledged openly now is because Samantha has been rather clever,” Anne Marie commented with a dry, sardonic smile, “and worked it out some time ago,

“You just wait right there!” Sam snapped indignantly. “Y’all done explained why Ah needed ta keep it all hushed up, an’ Ah ain’t said one damn word! Don’t you try an’...”

“Samantha, please,” Algernon interrupted, holding up a hand. “Nobody was attempting to accuse you of anything. I rather fear that events have simply forced our hand.”

“Yeah?” She leaned back in her chair, still glaring. “Like what?”

Despite her irritation - and the stab if fear that had gone through her when it seemed that Anne Marie was making an accusation, Sam made a snort of laughter as th other woman explained that she and Algernon had been walked in on by Colin and Kieran. Chuckling, she gripped Erik’s hand and listened to the rest of the explanation and the demand for discretion and silence. “Yeah, yeah. Ah done kept mah yap shut, an’ Ah reckon Ah kin keep right on doin’.”

Colin, for his part, let his erect posture slump ever so slightly. “Of course,” he agreed “I rather resent the idea that you feel a need to resort to threats, however. I am... no, we all are capable of respecting the confidence of a friend.” His eyes flickered to Sam. “Well, outside our small circle, at least.”

Sam flushed at that, biting her lip and looking away. “Yeah, well. Ah done learned Mah lesson, didn’t Ah?”

Algernon cocked his head. “Hm?”

“Good,” Anne Marie breathed. “Now to a related matter, which cannot be kept secret much longer but which I trust you all to protect to the best of your ability."

“Oh?” Colin shifted a little, leaning closer. “Do tell.” Sam nodded agreement.

“Anne Marie took a deep breath and glanced at Algernon before taking his hand and allowing herself the smallest of smiles. "Professor Swift and I are expecting a baby."

Colin’s eyes went wide. Sam gasped, then clapped her hands to her mouth in an effort to stifle a small shriek if excitement. And then she was bounding acriss the room, hugging Anne Marie excitedly. “A baby! Yer gonna be a mom! Oh mah gawd. Ohmahgawd! When?”

Colin stride acriss the room, clasping Algernon by the hand. “Congratulations, old man! Congratulations!”

“We’re gonna have us a party an’ celebrate, Anne Marie,” Sam declared, grinning. “Yet gonna be a mom!”
 
"Bloody Hell, that was fast," Kieran remarked, blinking a few times, stunned. "Congratulations! You know, I think this would be an appropriate time to mention that I've been thinking a lot and you know, the more I think about it the more I think 'Kieran' works as a boy's name or a girl's." He grinned and moved forward to shake Professor Swift's hand, then kiss Anne Marie's cheek, only to be crowded out of the way by Sam. It was a shock, to say the least, finding out about her affair with Swift and that she was pregnant all in one afternoon. He really had a difficult time imagining Anne Marie as a mother--or really as the nurturing type at all--and Professor Swift as anything but a sexless monk. Well...he'd seen the former--had it burned into his retinas, really--so why not the latter?

Whatever reaction Anne Marie had been expecting, it had not been a hug. And most certainly not the unrestrained feminine jubilation of which two years ago she would have thought Sam incapable. Despite herself she smiled and awkwardly hugged her back. "November," she answered. "Frankly it is a small miracle that nobody has noticed yet, but a shopping trip is due soon, I think." She smiled, a little dazed. This entire time she had been thinking about the baby in terms of Algie being a father...but until Samantha had said it she hadn't really thought of herself being a mother. The revelation was startling to say the least.

"We're gonna have us a party an' celebrate, Anne Marie," Sam declared, grinning. "Yer gonna be a mom!"

That shook her out of her moment of reflection. "A small party, if you must," she replied, "and the reason is not to be specified unless it is patently obvious. I have servants in my employ who are still unaware even of my romantic ties, let alone my condition. I'm sure rumors fly, but I've never given them reason to lend any credence to those rumors. I hope, Captain Drake," she added over Sam's shoulder to Colin, "that my reasons for reacting the way I have have become more clear to you. I know that confidentiality goes without saying, particularly among the Society. But I needed to press home the seriousness of the situation. If anyone were to target our child, or leave him without one or both parents..." She trailed off, giving him a significant look.

"Hellfire would rain down upon anyone who even threatened to harm Gideon," Erik agreed with a nod after taking his turn to shake Professor Swift's hand and congratulate him. "Things are different, when you are a parent or an expectant parent. It's a little frightening the lengths you will go to in order to protect your child."

"Exactement," Anne Marie nodded.
 
“Well, yeah,” Sam agreed cheerfully. “A small party. But, well, yer gonna have ta let yer servants know sometime. Even if ya go inta hidin’, they’re gonna notice. It gets a mute hard ta hide, y’know?” Her hands made the shape of a round, protruding belly as she said the last.

Colin chuckled, amused both by Sam’s uncharacteristic exuberance and at the gesture. The chuckle died at Anne Marie’s and then the Professor’s statements. “I would expect no less,” he remarked, “and... well, I believe I understand your hesitation. I only wish you had seen fit to trust us enough to take us into your confidence, without, ah, being compelled to by circumstance.”

Rising, he walked to the sideboard and poured several drinks. “Allow me to propose a toast,” he said, passing the wine glasses about. “And I made sure yours is the line-flavored soda water, Madame LaMonte,” he addedwith a smile. Then he raised his glass. “To Professor Swift and Madame LaMonte. May they find all the happiness they deserve.”

Everyone raised their glasses. “To the Professor and Madame LaMonte!”

“Thank you,” the Professor said, sipping his wine. “And I’ll try to take that as a friendly gesture rather than a dire prediction,” he murmured into his glass.
 
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