Sorry, a situation came up at work where someone was fired and I had to do a whole bunch of extra work to make up for it. I am back now, though. PLEASE REVIEW!

Natalie Sancoeur was many things. A cool liar. A unreadable poker face. A experienced expert in covering up whatever for whoever paid her to cover it up. Divorces, abortions, murders, Natalie had made a living of cleaning all the dirty laundry of the rich and famous, ironing it, and folding it away to be tucked neatly in a remote corner where no one would ever spot the blood stains. She was never told the details and she never pried for them.

It was good business. And Natalie was a ruthless businesswoman.

All her life she had made her way in the world by forging documents, changing records, arranging for body doubles and make-up artists and all the bells and whistles so the mayor could get that divorce, so the big boss got off scot free, so the old hubby could have his pretty girlfriend. And she learned better yet what she had known all her life. All people are cruel, manipulative, selfish and dishonest. And the only way she would survive was if she kept a straight face and played along.

And then there was Mrs. Agreste.

Nathalie had been hired by Gabriel Agreste, publicly as a personal assistant, in reality to cover up his purchases of rare artifacts on the Chinese black market. It was a job like any other, just another selfish, greedy rich man, desperate to get his hands on some dusty old toys. She never gave it a second thought.

Then the girl-child had shown up.

He had brought her back from Tibet like yet another priceless antique, with living flesh of gold and eyes of purest emerald. Gabriel glowed with pride at his find, this exotic doll from the far east, perfection in living form.

Natalie saw a half grown teen-age girl, who knew precisely ten words in French, far from home and perfectly scared.

Agreste had dumped the girl at her desk and told her to make a Frenchwoman out of her. Nathalie had taken care of the registration papers and citizenship, all expertly forged, straightened her desk and went to leave.

The golden-haired girl was still standing there alone in the cavernous marble office, slightly slanted grass green eyes focused on her feet.

Natalie picked up her i-pad, tucked it under her arm, and headed for the door.

The girl still stood there.

The dark-haired woman sighed and pushed up her spectacles.

"Do you want anything to eat? I could get you coffee."

The child looked up with the brightest green eyes she had ever seen and said something in, was that TIBETIAN?

"Mon Dieu." Groaned the Frenchwoman taking the girl by the hand and leading her out the door. "He doesn't pay me enough for this."

Over coffee and tea, with a great deal of miscommunication. (Nathalie thanked the heavens for google translate.) the forger and the foreigner got to know each other.

Sonam, as she was called in Tibet, was far from the porcelain doll Gabriel had fallen for. The girl cursed venomously in rapid fire Tibetian and Mandarin when she burnt her tongue on her tea and ranted idealistically about all the corruption cover-ups Nathalie had done. Sonam was passionate and naïve, completely oblivious to the world she had entered and its unspoken rules. She had about the chance of a snowball in hell if anyone ever uncovered what a frank, stubborn and caring young woman she was behind Gabriel's perfect painting. They would be on her like dogs on a cat, and they would tear her apart.

So Natalie decided then that she would be there to protect this Tibetian girl, by the only means she had in her power.

Time to cover up.

Nathalie was the indulgent older sister, the one who could be bought with a "pretty please" and the brightest green kitten eyes ever imported to France. Sonam would always run to her when she got homesick, or lonely or bored and fed up with Gabriel and his endless photoshoots. And although Nathalie tried to keep up the professional façade, with a steady stream of no, Sonam always brought it down with a crash.

"But Jie-jie." She would whine, using the Mandarin endearment for older sister. "Please, I do want some momo dumplings. Isn't there anywhere in France that sells momo dumplings?"

"You, SONG," replied Natalie, emphasizing the name Gabriel and the press knew her by. "Are on a DIET. A very strict diet. You are a model now and I can't go on spoiling you with yak wraps or whatever other rich Tibetian foods you crave. I'll get fired and…"

"I'm pregnant."

The room went silent. Nathalie's fingers stopped their incessant tapping n the key board and she looked at Sonam over her glasses.

"What?" the word rung out, sharp and clear as the blue gaze glaring down at the nineteen year old who was still a child in her eyes.

"Yeah…" the words trailed out into the silence.

Natalie's fingers began tapping with a frenzy.

"I'll get an appointment."

"For a doctor?"

"For an abortion."

"WHAT?! NO!"

Nathalie pulled off her glasses and grabbed Sonam by the shoulders.

"Sonam. You're nineteen. You're too young to handle a pregnancy. I'll arrange it then it will be forgotten like it never happened."

"No."

"This is the kind of stuff I DO, Sonam."

"NO!" Sonam tore away from Nathalie's grip, hugging her arms around herself.

"Didn't I tell you, why I was so desperate to leave Tibet?" she whispered. "No one wanted me. No one loved me. I was like some feral kitten on the streets, always waiting to be thrown into the river to drown like the vermin I was. Gabriel made me an offer and I took it. I know I didn't get the better end of the deal. But I got out of there. And I promised myself I would never make anyone suffer the way I did. Especially not my own child."

"Sonam."

"I'm keeping him."

"Sonam."

"I WANT TO KEEP HIM!"

"Gabriel isn't going to care what you want." By now, Sonam's green eyes were streaking tears. "Sonam, you're his top model. The face and flesh of his brand. Do you think he's going to let you take off nine months and more? Do you think he'll let your size number go up? Do you think he'll stand for a model with swollen ankles, stretch marks, and baggy eyes from nights watching the baby? No. You know Gabriel. He won't tolerate any of that. And don't even say he loves you. I know both your schedules. You barely speak. He loves your image, who he thinks you are. The perfect girlfriend and fiancé. He loves Song. Not Sonam."

"Natalie, please help me, please. I could leave him. I could live with you."

"He owns you."

"Jie-jie, please." Sonam was clinging to Natalie's knees, the older woman gently carding through her golden hair, like a mother soothing a child.

"There is no way Gabriel will do anything not in his brand's best interest."

But the seed of an idea had been planted in Natalie's mind. If she could convince Gabriel that a son would be worth giving Sonam the time to have a child, pitching the whole thing as a business endeavor she might make this work. She could play Sonam's beauty to their advantage, convince him the child would inherit some of the good look genes. A model trained from birth, children's fashion and a whole new audience to market to. Gabriel Agreste might buy that. Nathalie would design the argument, tailor the facts to their advantage. She might be able to pull it off.

"Please…"

"I get to pick the name."

Sonam's head snapped up blinking back tears. "What?"

Natalie turned back to the computer and looked up the best pregnancy center in Paris. She tilted the screen toward the wide green eyes.

"I get to pick the name."

This chapter is further setting up both Nathalie and Mrs. Agreste and significant characters in the plot. Both will be deeply involved, but I won't spoil it! I see Nathalie as quite a bit older that Mrs. Agreste. Sonam was a sort of trophy bride Gabriel brought back from the East. I imagine her to be the daughter of some Caucasian immigrants to Tibet, because although her eyes are slightly slanted, she does not have the typical dark hair and features of the region. This is also why Adrien learned Mandarin Chinese.

Also, because Gabriel is Hawkmoth and has a lot of secrets to hide, I imagine Nathalie to be sort of covering for him, when he's not places he's supposed to be because he's Hawkmoth, or he's spending money shopping for miraculous and people are wondering where the cash is going. She sort of evolved into a sort of cover-up for hire to anyone who has the money. But she truly cares for Sonam and uses her forgery skills in falsifying records and documents to help her.

Momo dumplings are traditional to Tibet, Sonam is a Tibetan name. I looked all that up on the fly, so it might be wrong. Don't be offended.

PLEASE REVIEW!