Early the next morning found Bibi rising with the sun, her internal clock in turmoil from traveling across too many time zones. She decided to take the opportunity to review the events of the past few days, making some notes in her journal when something popped out at her as particularly of interest. She guarded this journal as carefully as she did her heart, something she had vowed to not be broken again.

Her thoughts inevitably glided along the corridors of UNCLE, of the two men she had been with the previous evening and the one who had been missing: Mark. Something significant had happened between the two of them during their time together, and having him close to her as she summoned the strength to acknowledge the treachery of her husband, the Baron de Chausseur, had eased the agony of his deceit.

Now, considering the three men and how different they all were from one another, she wondered at her own inability to say with confidence that she preferred one over another of them. Not that she considered herself in the market for a man, for that was certainly not the case. She even laughed at herself in the realization that she assumed each of them would be agreeable to her affections. Then again, if last night were any indication, Illya and Napoleon had nearly fallen over each other trying to gain her attention.

"Oh, Bibi…'

She sighed.

"You're on official business now, no time for men; even if they are practically irresistible."

~~~~~:

At nine o'clock Illya and Napoleon arrived at Bibi's hotel door, each man looking forward to spending time with the lovely brunette, both of them trying to conceal it.

"So, Mark is due back tomorrow?"

Napoleon nodded, his eyes never leaving the door he was facing.

"Yep, and April too. Don't forget Miss Dancer."

Illya rolled his eyes, the ones also facing Bibi's door.

"Of course I know April will be with Mark. I was merely thinking of the reunion that will occur between … Bibi and Mark. They did spend quite a lot of time together during that affair. The mission affair, not…"

Now Napoleon had to cut a glance in his partner's direction. What was this all about?

Before he could ask the question, the door opened and Bibi greeted them with a brilliant smile that made them each forget their conversation as she welcomed them into her suite.

Napoleon kissed her on the cheek, relishing the idea that she purred with pleasure in return. Illya greeted her with more reserve, disinclined to mimic his partner's familiar gesture.

"Gentlemen, you make the start of the day even more welcome. So tell me, what have you decided is our next move?"

As Bibi spoke she was directing them into the living area of the suite where a tan damask sofa was flanked by two Bergère chairs upholstered in a tan and black toile depicting a farm scene. Illya took note of the fabric and the depiction of two men and one woman in the fields, an irony not lost on the Russian.

"This is a beautiful suite, Bibi. It suits you."

Illya's remark was timed perfectly, the nuances of the compliment at once reticent and forward. Napoleon was impressed, as was Bibi.

"Illya, you are such a dear. I love it here, it almost reminds me of home."

A wistful look crossed her face as Bibi made that remark, and Napoleon took the opportunity to take her hand in a consoling manner.

"Bibi? Why don't we order some breakfast and get on with our planning session."

"What? Oh, no need Napoleon. I made arrangements already, and breakfast should be …'

The rap on the door stopped Bibi mid sentence.

"Oh, that must our breakfast. Illya, will you please get that?"

Illya went to the door as asked, but not without checking his gun, something Napoleon was mirroring as Bibi looked on, the reality of their lives intruding on the pleasantness of the morning.

"Okay Illya, open the door."

With Napoleon standing ready and Bibi watching them both, Illya opened the door to the suite. To everyone's surprise, the person at the door was Mark Slate. The smile on his face betrayed the anticipation he must have felt at seeing Bibi again, and he walked into the suite with his eyes on her, brushing past Illya and nodding to Napoleon.

"Hello Bibi. You look fantastic, as always."

The brunette beamed, as much as a baroness can afford to beam. She really did have a fondness for the Brit.

"And you, Mark. It's been too long."

"It has indeed, luv. I think I've interrupted your meeting with Napoleon and Illya."

Mark tried to look apologetic, but he was failing miserably. He couldn't feel sorry for this, he had dreamed of seeing Bibi again, even if under these circumstances.

Napoleon was curious about the timing, and a little miffed that he hadn't been informed of the change in Mark and April's schedule.

"Mark, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. Is April with you?"

"April's taking care of the car, she'll be up in a few. We finished early and caught the first flight out. I have to say the travel was exhausting, but it's worth it now…"

Mark was looking at Bibi again while Illya and Napoleon watched the two of them. If Napoleon had thought Illya was his competition for the lovely Baroness, he now had another view of the situation.

"Shall we get down to business then? I believe we have a very valuable diamond to track down, and some thieves who need to be apprehended … sooner than later."

Illya was about to speak when Napoleon's communicator warbled its tune, causing everyone to turn towards the Chief Enforcement Agent.

"Open channel D, Solo here."

"Mr. Solo, is your team assembled there with you?"

"Yes sir, and Mr. Slate has just joined us."

"Yes, and Miss Dancer as well, I hope. They have been assigned to this affair. Some new developments have made it necessary to augment your personnel with them. I expect you will find their presence of great value."

"Sir, what exactly has changed since last night?"

"Lord Fitzsimmons was found dead this morning in his hotel room. This is now a murder investigation in addition to the theft of the Mercury Diamond."

Bibi paled noticeably at the news of Fitzsimmons death. She hadn't liked the man, but hearing of his murder was disturbing and a little frightening.

"Sir, should we all proceed back to headquarters? We were about to sit down for a strategy session…."

"No, no Mr. Solo. You must return here after Mr. Slate and Miss Dancer have filled you in."

"Yes sir. We'll all be there as soon as we hear their brief."

"Very well, Mr. Solo. Please try and have a plan ready when you walk through the doors. Waverly out."

Mark cleared his throat, mindful that he should have mentioned the news about Fitzsimmons when he walked through the door to the suite.

"Well, there you have it. Fitzsimmons appears to have been shot, but there will be an autopsy."

Another knock on the door had three men drawing their guns. Bibi walked over to it and pulled it open, and found herself face to face with a striking redhead in a mini-skirt and turtleneck sweater. This had to be April Dancer.

"Hi all! You must be the Baroness de Chausseur, and I am…"

"April Dancer. I've heard so much about you. Please, come in and join us. We've just heard the awful news about Lord Fitzsimmons."

Napoleon and Illya both greeted April, aware of the new dynamic among this very select group of people.

"So, shall we get down to business?"

Napoleon needed to rein in whatever emotional elements were threatening to undo his team. Mark was obviously smitten by Bibi, and she was certainly interested, or at least had a warm feeling towards him. April must know how her partner felt about the Baroness, although she was professional enough to not let it alter how she treated the woman.

Just when Napoleon thought this case couldn't become more complicated because of who was investigating, the door sounded once more.

"That has to be breakfast. Everyone else is here already."

Illya once more went to the door while the other three UNCLE agents prepared themselves for whatever or whoever, might be on the other side.

Not one of them would have guessed the right answer.