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Disclaimer is in Part 1.
 
 

                Jack Stiles sighed, then ran a finger along the neckline of his craveat.  The thing was too damned tight, and he was beginning to get light headed standing here.  The sight of his drop dead gorgeous partner and soon to be wife, didn't help the matter any either.  She was ravishing in her rich, forest green, gown.   Ofcourse, had he never seen her all gussied up before, he might have collapsed, but they'd been together for several months now, and he had escorted her to many formal events before this one.  Every man in the room envied him at this moment, and despite the knowledge that this was just a show, Jack decided to play up the part he was cast in.

                He sauntered over to the grand staicase that connected the main ballroom to the second floor of the Verinette's mansion.  Emilia was talking with several of the island's prominent gentlemen and their wives.  Considering the enthusiasm with which she spoke, Jack guessed it had something to do with her exporting business or a new scientific development.  Her public persona did allow her to indulge her scientific interests, if sketchily.   She could never reveal the true depth of her intelligence, except to him, and he could never truly appreciate it.  He felt a small pang of guilt for his insulting her inventions in the past.  She truly was gifted, in that respect, although he'd cut out his tongue before admitting it.  She had too little appreciation for his own talents, and though he hated to aknowledge his vunerability, he knew she could truly cut him down if she so chose.   And yet, as insane as it sounded, he trusted her, a British spy, implicitely, never to cross certain lines or to abuse his weaknesses.

                "Sweetheart," Jack stated with purpose, as the group surrounding his partner began to disperse.  Em plastered on a smile at the endearment, as Jack came to stand beside her.  It was difficult getting used to refering to one another in that way.  It still felt unnatural.

                "What is it, Darling?" Emilia returned, hardening the last word, reproachfully.  She knew he was only building there new cover, but still it anerved her.

                "Hey, Em, did you see our haul tonight?  You'd think it was Christmas?  Although, I can't figure out what half that stuff is?  Back home, you always give the couple something they can actually use, like lingerie" Jack jibed, sliding his arm loosely around his partner's waist and patting her flank teasingly.

                "Looking to explore your feminine side again, are you?" Emilia shot back, remembering their first assignment together.

                "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of exploring your feminine sides, all of them," Jack replied, his tone taking on a slightly husky quality, as he whispered into her hairline and let his fingers trail up from her waist, along the side seam of her bodice.

                "Jack Stiles!" Emilia chastised, stepping out of his grasp, yet somehow managing to keep her voice low enough not to draw attention to them.

                "Oh come on, Em!  We were doing far more this afternoon, and I didn't hear you complaining then!" Jack responded, taking a step closer to his blushing partner.  At the time he'd been too stunned to say anything, but now he was going to enjoy watching her squirm.

                At the sight of her partner's cocky smirk, Emilia grabbed his forearm, pulling him into a secluded corner of the room, behind a group of tall plants.

                "I saw Hellena Bellsot approaching us.  We were pinicing in the park.   Everything was all spread out already.  There was no other way to escape having to talk to that shrew!" Emilia returned defensively, crossing her arms, and attempting to stare Jack down from his current line of conversation.

                "No, no, no, I mean, after she was gone.  You were still kissing me, and don't even try to tell me you didn't notice, 'cause it was you who was supposed to be watching her.  You're lucky I don't file sexual harrassment charges, Sister!"  Jack crowed, taking the higher ground in one shot.

                "Jack, this is not the time or the place to discuss this!   I refuse to discuss it now!"  Emilia hissed, storming off towards the other end of the ballroom.  In truth, she'd prefer they never discussed it, but Jack was persistent.   And he did deserve an explaination.  One moment they were sipping tea and enjoying a short, sunny, respite from their frenzied wedding preparations, and the next minute they were virtually making out on the picnic blanket, like a couple of teenagers.  The action had served its intended purpose of steering the haunty Mrs. Bellsot in another direction, but Emilia had been unprepared for her own physical responce.  She had melted into Jack's kiss, and soon they had their arms around each other, her fingers tangeled in Jack's soft brown hair.  It had all felt too good to stop at that particular moment, and she had let Mrs. Bellsot get far off into the distance before pulling away.  It had been a grave tacticle error, and for the life of her, Emilia couldn't figure out how to get beyond it.  Jack had already tried to seduce her a few moments ago, and Emilia had to admit she'd almost  purred like a kitten at his touch.  It was only her strong resolve not to let it happen again, or God forbid, whind up in bed with her handsome, if infuriating, partner, that had stopped her from giving into him this time.  But Jack was not a quitter, and the impending change in their social status, almost guaranteed a next time, and a time after that.  Oh, why couldn't Napoleon just have an aneurism and free her from this assignment already?
 

                Charles Darwin patted his stomache, and inhaled the cool night air.  He had just returned from a local resteraunt and was quite stuffed on East Indian cuisine.  It was a beautiful night out, and he decided to go for a walk along the shoreline.  His mind inveriably drifted to what seemed like it's new home,  Miss Margeret Bellsot.  He was thorougly smitten, and just the thought of her made him slightly giddy.  Over the past week, they had spent several hours in each others company, whenever Margeret could escape her parents.  They always seemed to be on the same page, and Darwin had to admit she also made one heck of a research assistant .    Her mind was as sharp as his own.

                As Darwin turned a corner, he was suddenly grabbed.  He struggled fiercly, but it was no use.  There were two sets of strong arms dragging him backward, and they had already managed to gag him, so screaming for help would have been useless.  Whoever had him, definately knew what they were doing.  He prayed to a God he never truly believed in, even now, in order tio stay calm and to survive whatever terror may lay ahead of him.

                About a half mile from where he was grabbed, in what looked like it had to be the seediest part of Pulau Pulau, Charles was thrown down onto a small haystack, still managing to bump his head on the wall behind him.  He looked up, only to come face to face with a thin, red headed man in a French uniform.  From the metals and marks of rank, Charles could tell that this man was a Captain, and his stance was rigid and proud, definately military.

                "Good evening, Monsieur Darwin.  Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Captain Brogard, and although regretable, your capture was quite necesary, as I need your assistance, and I doubt you would have come here willingly," Brogard explained, pacing calmly infront of his frightened captive.

                "What do you want, Captain?" Charles Darwin spatt out, once one of Brogard's men had removed his gag.  He had heard about the almost inhumanly merciless Captain of the guard, here on this island.  He was definitely in trouble now.

                "I need you to procure some items from Monsieur Stiles and Madam Rothschild's home, and from what I have heard, you have recently come into their close aquaintance, and sisnce you have no official ties that would lead back to me, makes you thge perfect choice," Brogard answered, no emotion showing on his face.

                "But why?  What do you want..."

                "That is not your concern.  You will simply get me the items on a list I will give you before you leave.  What I do with them is MY business!  But to make sure you understand the seriousness of my request..." Brogard allowed his voice to trail off, as he motioned for another French soldier to enter.

                "For the love of God!" Darwin could barely squeak out.  In the burly apes arm, lay Mageret Bellsot, as if she were sleeping.  He could see her light breathing, assuring him she was not dead, but this was not a natural sleep.

                "Don't worry.  She has not been harmed or 'touched' in any way.  My men simply used a rag of cloraform over her mouth, while she was sleeping.  We've been very gentle.  She'll think it was all a dream, when she wakes up in her bed back at the mission, tomorrow morning.  However, her ultimate fate rests in your hands.  I am the law on Pulau Pulau, I can always take her away again, and turn a deaf ear to her parents.  Get me what I want, tell no one, and sail away with your ship as planned, and Madamoiselle Bellsot retains her perfect health and chastity.  Don't, and I let my men do as they would with her, understand Monsieur Darwin?" Brogard questioned the terrified young man before him, his evil insinuation oozing from his large eyeballs.

                "I understand,"  Darwin said, after clearing his heart from his throat.  He knew appealing to this man's good side would just be a waste of time.  He didn't have one to appeal to.  He had to do as this monster said, for Margeret's sake.

                None of the men noticed the small, well dressed, parrot that had followed them, and perched at the windowsill, but he was a trained spy, and once Brogard had untied Darwin, and ushered him into another room, Jean Claude took to flight, his odly pitched voice, sqwauking into the night, "Viva La Resistance!"