Act 2: "Playing with the Queen of Hearts"

A day ahead of schedule, Napoleon and Elaine went out shopping for a dress that would, in theory, cause Alistair S. Carruthers to see only her that whole evening. While he originally thought green would work, the idea of red with red, as long as it was the right shade, fell in a little quicker then green and he decided to see if it could be done.

And while he was at it, he left Illya and Celeste back at UNCLE to search the files for possible connections between the missing girls and the party goers or between any of them.

"I think we should make his teeth into cufflinks now."
"At least we're doing something productive. Besides, he always gives me the paperwork to do. Much better at it." A pause. "Though I might have to write the report myself..."

"I never said my handwriting was perfect, just passable."

"Napoleon's is better."

"If you're done critiquing my hand and wrist movements, can we get back to the homework we were assigned?"

The color that he and the ladies at the store had gone for was a cranberry red color, and the dress was cut to accent many things on her at once, but to still draw attention to her and her alone. Spaghetti straps held up the dress at her shoulders and the dip was low, showing off her bust while the back was cut down to the small of her back, allowing some dignity and also showing she wasn't completely loose. A strap along the back was there for both design and to help keep the dress on her, while a slit up the right side allowed her leg to show.

All in all, not a bad result, especially after the shoes, leggings, hair and make-up products were given.

Then he saw the price and hoped the expense account would take care of it.

Celeste ruffled her hair slightly as she walked into the room then blinked. "Wow. Overkill much, Napoleon?"

Napoleon gave her a tight smile. "Trust me, this will work."

"I trust you about as much as I trust hitchhikers on stormy nights," Celeste said, "So remind me why you aren't getting female help for this?"

"I am. It's everything else that I can help with."

Celeste looked over at Elaine, then shrugged before saying, "Can I at least have my bed back? If not, I'll have to camp out elsewhere."

Elaine looked around the area then sighed. "Sorry, Celeste."

A look around made Celeste shrug again. "No problem. I've camped out in worse places. Let me grab a few things then I'll help out tomorrow with whatever."

Napoleon and Elaine nodded before Napoleon asked, "Any luck with the girls?"

"Not really," Celeste said, "Illya's checking all the angles and I think it's simple, but have yet to find it. So I guess we'll just have to see." With that, she grabbed a few personnel effects, shoving them into the small overnight bag she had brought with them. "Until tomorrow, have fun you two!"

Elaine watched her go and looked upward. "Why did we need all this stuff again?"

"To make you into the type of lady he wants."

"Why am I doing this again?"

"You're the type of lady he wants."

"What's your role again?"

"Escort. The service didn't want anything bad to happen, so I get to go in and watch."

Elaine looked back at him. "If he's ugly, I'm going to have to hurt you."

"Understood."

There were at least three dresses for her to change into and out during the day. Most of them were a shade of red that went well with her, and the dinner dress for being shown off was the one that got the "Jessica Rabbit Seal of Approval" from Celeste before she was once more tossed back to searching for clues about the missing girls.

The plan, as it started out, was surprisingly simple: Elaine was to go as the escort girl for Carruthers and do most of the surveying, or at least keeping attention on herself. Napoleon would be there as a body guard of sort, to protect the Agency's girl as well as the client from anything that could happen. Illya was the driver of the limo with Celeste as a friend who seemed interested in joining the Agency and wanted to see how it worked, though most of her night would be in the limo as it had been decided she wasn't ready to 'play lady' just yet and needed some more training or actually to enroll. She and Illya would monitor the outside while Napoleon and Elaine stayed on the inside.

"What was the third girl's birthday again?" Celeste asked as they waited for Elaine and Napoleon to come out from the tailor shop.

"June 2nd."

"And the fourth's?"

"July 14th."

Celeste suddenly paused and lifted up her head. "Illya, tell me all the birthdays, starting with the first's."

Celeste waited, then checked a book she had titled The Little Giant Encyclopedia of Fortune Telling.

"Why did you bring that, anyway?" Illya asked as he sat up front.

"I had a hunch," she told him, then smiled brightly. "I was right!"

"What?"

"The girls are taken according to their astrological sign. The first was an Aries, the next a Taurus, the third a Gemini, the fourth a Cancer, the last one was a Leo, the fifth sign of the Zodiac. If I had my computer I could come up with a birth chart for them and--." There was another pause as Illya double-checked something then said, "They do have a birth chart. All of them got one a few days before each party from a woman named," more paper shuffling, "Madam Clara du Serenitus."

"What a name...according to this she's the expert, or at least the one that all rich people go to when they get the superstition bug."

The two started to go through the guest list, then visibly deflated. Madam Serenitus never attended any of the gatherings, it seemed.

"But we will have to question her," Celeste pointed out, "so maybe she'll be able to help us out with what each of the women had in their past or futures."

Illya nodded, then directed her to where Napoleon and Elaine were coming out.

"HOLY--."

"Language."

Celeste put a hand over her mouth and mumbled the rest at the sight of Napoleon in his best tuxedo and Elaine in her first dress, a red one that was, like the rest, made to have attention focus on her and to show that she was a lovely lady.

The door opened and Elaine stepped inside. "What?"

Celeste tried to think of something, said finally said, "Can we keep the dress? You'd turn heads back home, Elaine, and in an Exorcist type of way!"

"Is that good?"

"Yes. Or no, depending on the person."

Napoleon smiled then nodded. "Well. Let's not keep him waiting too much longer."

Alistair S. Carruthers was a man who had not done much in life but was already further along then most people of his age. His great-grandfather's business had boomed quickly, making it possible for his father and then himself to live comfortably. He was a graduate and was going to work in the firm after his thirtieth birthday: his father gave him the rest of that time to play, find a girl, and think about what he would do after that time. So at the age of twenty-five, he was ready to keep up life as it was with parties and red-haired women and social life.

But then the kidnappings had occurred, and while he and his father had done what they could to keep it quiet and make it appear as if nothing was going on, word had gotten round. This party, if not done right, would be the dullest he could ever have.

He didn't want that. Summer was one of the best times to have parties, and for them to just go away because a few girls had gone off elsewhere?

He checked his watch as the butler came in, announcing the arrival of Mr. Solo from the Agency and the girl for the night, named Elaine. Alistair waved, allowing them in and turning his back, hoping the Agency got it right this time. If he had to require and put in another request about the type of girl he wanted, he wasn't about to go to them again.

"Mr. Carruthers?" The male voice made him turn and frown. Where was the girl?

"Mr...Solo, I presume? I hope you did not come alone. If I were so inclined, I would have specified it."

Mr. Solo gave a tight grin at the joke. "No, sir, I am here to ensure the safety of our employee. Because of what has been happening, only one recent transfer to New York has been available, and we've kept her alone to allow her to have no bias towards the, ah, happenings of late."

"I see."

"But because of it as well, I will be staying nearby at all times. I do not want her to be in any danger, and while I know that the girls who disappeared were not full acquaintances of yours, they did disappear here. That makes my employer nervous about sending a girl here, but you are a good customer, better then some. Which is why we wish to keep you on as one, and which is why, for your protection and hers, I am here."

Alistair bit back a retort to the audacity of the man, then nodded. "Very well. Do what you must to ensure her safety, and mine. I have fine body guards and men, they do well."

Solo gave a small nod then walked to the door, saying, "Come in, Elaine. He's waiting."

Almost shyly, the woman walked in and Alistair felt his breath catch as she did, looking up at him with confident eyes before giving a small curtsy towards him. "Mr. Carruthers. A pleasure. I am Elaine."

Alistair recovered enough to return the bow and take one of her hands, kissing it briefly. "So I see."

She was perfect. The perfect one, the angelic and physical reality of his want, and he smiled as he realized she was all his for that night. Her hair was a light red, like the point nearest the white-heat of a fire, and curled elegantly to frame her face and cascade down her shoulders. A warm rose-colored dress with long shoulder straps helped to show off her pale, moon-glow skin and lead down to her wonderfully rich bosom. The dress accented the curves that were neither so skinny he wondered if she would eat nor too large to tell him she would eat and overeat. A shapely leg was barely visible near the end of it, her height added to by small, elegant two-inch heels.

"Does she meet the standards, Mr. Carruthers?" Solo's voice cut in, causing Alistair to glare at him then look back into the eyes of the lovely artwork before him. Green-blue eyes looked back, a small tint of hazel making them even more lovely.

"Yes. In fact, she is perfect."

"Must I be the one to listen to this sap?" Celeste said with a scowl as she looked back over at where Illya sat, reading through the papers they had on the missing girls and the newest paper on Madam Serenitus.

"It was your turn."

"You wouldn't believe this guy. He's coming close to quoting Shakespeare at her, if he hasn't somehow already."

"Are you jealous?"

"Of Elaine? No. I wouldn't last two minutes with that much mushy goodness in the room."

Illya looked over then asked simply, "So, why are you complaining? It was your turn to listen in and ensure they are fine, it is mine to search for clues. Do you think he would try something with Napoleon in the room?"

"Other then grabbing her--."

"Celeste..."

"No, I don't. But I don't like sap."

"Why?"

"Why? Why don't I like sap? Because it's sap! Because it's false sweetness that usually involves flowers, sugar and false-pretenses about how a person is. What's the point of getting to know a person if they drudge up this sugar-coated version of how they want to f--."

"Celeste," Illya's voice was calming, "some people need it. I believe Elaine will be fine."

"I hope he tries something and gives Napoleon a reason to shoot him," Celeste muttered before turning back around and staying silent. Illya frowned at her. While she did seem to be forward with what she could want, she didn't enjoy what many other women would. Why?

He went back to reading his notes and figuring out the missing girls before he took his chance with Celeste.

Elaine stretched as she sat on the large bed she had been given during her stay, along with the huge room that one usually saw on movies that involved people striking it rich and getting to go into the Ritzy hotels suddenly. Silk sheets whispered smoothly against her dress as she wiggled her toes, now free of the heels, and thought about what she had learned.

One: Carruthers was very handsome. Not as handsome as Napoleon, and obviously worked hard to maintain the handsome nature, but his hair was duller then Napoleon's, his eyes a normal brown color instead of the hazel-brown mixture that Napoleon's could be, and while he was just as tall as Napoleon and dressed in more expensive suits, and even had that "decadent air", as Illya called it, that Napoleon had, Napoleon carried himself and made himself larger then him in so many ways.

But at least the guy was cute.

Two: He thought the girls had run off somewhere and were playing a trick, one that he didn't like because it ruined his social status. The idea of them being in danger or hurt didn't cross his mind, and if it did only in how it would affect his parties later on. He had made mention of them only because he wished to explain why she wouldn't be at a party that was as "nice and lively" as the others. So even if he did know what happened to them, he was carrying on in such a way that made her suspect he didn't know where they were and probably was innocent of anything that happened.

Three: The man couldn't act his way out of a wet paper bag with a Sherpa guide. He knew stuff, he was interesting in that way and he had a degree, but if he was hiding something he probably would've shown it to her already.

With a contented sigh, Elaine leaned back onto the bed. Two pieces of what could be considered man-candy were before her...one was richer then the other, to be sure, but the other was far sweeter and better for her.

I don't want you to go where that was taking me, she told her mind firmly, stop and go along another track.

She had gone on a tour of the house, and no secret passages, places, or hideouts had been found. Napoleon had been there too and had not signaled or said anything, but considering how close Carruthers kept her, she probably couldn't have noticed him being kidnapped.

Out of those thoughts, now. No need for depression.

She was pretty sure that Celeste had heard at least some of the sap that had been going on and wondered how she would deal with it. While Celeste was warm-blooded and enjoyed decent romance movies, mainly the older ones, she was a sucker for some sap but hadn't been recently. Of course, Elaine knew the reason why, just as she knew the reason that Celeste had popped up with a car half-loaded with things and taken her away from Texas after they had both gotten out of the Navy, Elaine having to stay longer to deal with the lease and some of her things being sent home.

At least I'm not the only one unlucky in love, but damn!

A knock on the door stopped that thought and she sat up, saying simply, "Come in," before turning to see it open and reveal Napoleon.

"How are you, Elaine?" he asked sweetly as he closed the door, his guise as Mr. Solo, Agency man still in place.

As the door closed firmly, she frowned. "You can stop the act, Napoleon. I'm fine, though, thanks for asking. Any word from the duo outside?"

Napoleon nodded, moving over to sit in a chair by the desk. "Illya wants to check on the astrological lady, and Celeste wants to join but first needs to run back to Headquarters for something. I walked out to tell them we were staying and would call when they were needed, to make it appear official for them leaving. Do you know what it is? She wouldn't tell either of us."

Elaine paused in thought then nodded. "Probably her Tarot cards. We both do readings, but Celeste's larger into that whole thing and pulls out slightly truer cards then I do. She probably wants to use them to convince the Madam that they need the information."

Napoleon made a small face at the mention. "Tarot cards?"

Elaine noticed that she had once more become the subject of a small smile, this one subtly amused, and she glared at Napoleon. "What's so funny? Celeste and I both believe that sometimes there are things that facts can't explain, and the cards help tap your intuitive subconscious." The smile widened slightly, and Elaine sighed. "You're probably expecting me to tell you next that I sleep with a tinfoil hat on to keep the alien mind control waves out. I would have you know that my father does that, not me. My hair's bad enough." This at least provoked a low laugh, and Elaine could not help a triumphant grin. "So, how am I doing so far?"

"I don't think you'd be able to get this guy away from you without a crowbar or a blowtorch," Napoleon replied, considering the doll-like figure perched just beyond his reach. "What did I say? Once we got rid of the rough edges, you were just like a jewel waiting to be shown off." A gentle ripple of fabric caught his gaze - the hem of Elaine's gown fluttering as she kicked her feet in a languid gesture of boredom, occasionally offering the glimpse of her well-toned legs beyond the fabric. "He's hooked, just like any warm-blooded man should be."

Elaine's grin turned devious as she heard this last phrase. "And you, Mr. Solo?" she asked, letting her voice dip into the smoky, sultry tones she'd used earlier. "Are you jealous?"

This brought a sudden wince across his strong features that Napoleon quickly concealed with an assured smile. "It's not my job to be jealous, Elaine. Besides, we all know that I could never afford a 'lady' of your caliber." In spite of his facade of smug disinterest, he could not stop himself from looking over every detail of the young woman's appearance and marveling at the change that had transpired. This is the girl that drinks like a fish, hits like a lumberjack, and swears like a... well, like a sailor... and look at her now! If we weren't on a mission, I'm not sure how I'd handle this.

"You look conflicted, Mr. Solo." She reached a hand up to flick a stray strand of hair back over her shoulder, looking him fearlessly in the eye as she did. "Is something wrong?"

If this were any other situation, I'd take that as an invitation and she knows it. "No, Elaine, I'm fine. You should probably start getting ready for dinner now. I'll wait outside until you're decent."

Napoleon closed the door and turned in time to see Carruthers walk up, a frown now on his face.

"Mr. Carruthers," Napoleon said with a nod, "She is currently changing for dinner."

"I see," he said with a slightly clenched jaw before asking, "Mr. Solo, what is your job in the Agency?"

Napoleon knew where this was going, but straightened like a man of his job who was about to be addressed by a superior. "My job is their protection and well-being, sir. I assure you, nothing inappropriate happened. You only have to say a word and I would be penalized for it, possibly even lose my job. As I enjoy protecting and escorting women who would much rather tend to men like yourself then me--."

"Enough prattle, Mr. Solo," Carruthers said dismissively with a wave of his hand, "I understand your point: you are not in a position to take advantage of the situation."

Napoleon added, "There's...another thing."

"Oh?"

"I...dislike...red-heads. A personal choice, of course, but I simply do not like them. Every other color, I can accept, but not red-heads. One of the many reasons why I am chosen to work with them."

Carruthers looked extremely cocky at that point. "Well then, I shall do what I can to ensure you and she are not alone for too long together. Until dinner, Mr. Solo."

Knowing a dismissal when he had one, Napoleon bowed and left for his own room, hoping Illya and Celeste would find something quickly so they could get out of here.