Emerald Storms.

Silverium

Squaresoft owns. So does Silver, but only a few charas.

Xxxxx

Quistis adjusted her glasses and straightened her posture as she flipped through various files in the office. Clark had been very good at covering his illegal activities through vague statements and company names that didn't exist any more and couldn't be traced.

Guests had begun to arrive but the SeeD-in-disguise was not required to meet them. Armed with a highlighter and some coloured stickers, Trepe busied herself in re-sorting all the material in her office. In a mansion as big as this, the woman doubted she'd find the information here; there was probably some other office or even a special drawer in his bedroom where the man kept everything.

Downstairs people were getting loud as alcohol loosened their tongues. Quistis clicked her tongue and shut her filing cabinet. With all the noise downstairs maybe no one would notice her slip inside the Master's bedroom. She had better know what she was doing, in that case, so Quistis pulled out her favourite weapon.

Her laptop.

Setting up in front of the computer, so that anyone walking in wouldn't see it, Quistis logged on to her Balamb Instructor's account. From there she was given the information she needed most readily. The entire X-rayed floor plan of the manor, complete with all secret compartments.

"Holy Hyne," Quistis whispered as red lines, outlining all inner safes and secret walkways, scrawled all over her computer screen.

They would have a lot of work to do. Trianon and Michelle would be able to access most of the remote areas and look casual in doing so. Kerei and Zell were useless. Unless they saw Clark actually open a compartment. Irvine had a small chance, Squall had none.

"Up to the girls," Quistis breathed.

When Clark would be scheduled in a meeting, Quistis planned on alerting the staff under the guise of a management meeting, instructing them where to look and under what disguise they should be doing it. Biting her lip and wishing she had brought some small tracers so she could keep an eye on her fellow SeeDs, Trepe sighed quietly and shut her laptop down, concealing it under her desk.

"This will take longer than I had thought," She muttered.

Xxx

Trianon hissed as she received a grope from an unseen hand. Trying to keep the blazing anger from her eyes, the Guardian Force-turn-SeeD balanced her tray and kept walking. Gerald Clark was a chauvinistic pig when it came to his serving girls and entertainment, Trianon decided.

As the blue-haired woman passed Michelle she saw the girl's eyes were narrowed to daggers and they shared a look of pure disgust for the people around them. Men in suits laughed to each other with bleached-hair blondes hanging off their arms as small social accessories for the men who had brought them. Dresses dripped with sequins and glittered with gem stones but for all the wealth these people had Trianon figured it probably didn't come from any sort of intelligent or honourable job.

'Jail rats, the whole lot of them. Black market baddies who should be put back behind bars.' She thought in an acidic tone.

The evening was just reaching its peak, the live entertainment playing music and dancing, Clark doing his rounds, setting up deals, the floor had opened up for couples to twirl upon, and Trianon noted business cards flashing from hand to hand like a flock of doves scattering themselves in the sky. She had pocketed a few herself, it might do to have a few connections later on if Clark managed to escape.

As she realized her tray was empty, Trianon began to head back to the kitchen. In the hallways she paused for a moment, noting all the mirrors and fine tapestries that depicted gods and goddesses of ancient mythology. Clark did have fine taste in that, she admitted sourly. A soft footfall behind her caused the maid to turn around and frown as a man disappeared into an adjoining room.

"What is he doing outside of the ballroom?" Trianon whispered, quietly following the gentleman.

He was sneaking up the stairs, oblivious to the SeeD who followed him, her fingers working inside her apron to loosen several darts lest he become dangerous. Ducking inside an open closet, Trianon held her breath as the man whirled around, looking at the dim hallways in certain paranoia that he was being followed.

As soon as he turned away Trianon peered out and watched him approach Clark's room. Two guards stood there with stone faces and glossy machine guns. The man appeared to be asking them questions but Trianon watched him fiddling with his back pocket. The guards did too.

Her eyes flared as the guards lunged for the man's right hand, caught in his back pocket and reaching for his gun. To her shock it was his left hand that held the small poisoned knife, nicking both guards and letting them fall soundlessly to the floor. Very clever.

The man let himself in with a satisfied smile, disappearing into the room while Trianon checked the guards behind him. Both were stunned, but not dead, at least not yet. Holding her darts tightly the guardian force slipped through the door left ajar and watched the man as he tapped on the wall above Clark's bed. A hollow sound rang out and Trianon held her breath once more. Footsteps began to clatter up the hallways and the man, freezing for a moment, spun around. He encountered Trianon, also where she was not supposed to be.

"Stop!" Trianon shouted, launching three darts at him, one missing but the other two striking him in the neck and chest.

As the door flew open behind her, the maid rushed to the fallen man and tried to appear as if she were on the 'good' side of things. Clark and his bodyguards ran over, and Gerald fixed Trianon with a grim look.

"What happened?" he demanded,

"Sir, I was putting coats in the closet when I saw this man attack the guards, he entered your room where upon I knocked him out," Trianon answered automatically, keeping as calm as she could.

"I see." Clark whispered, staring at the woman.

There was an awkward moment as the man was hauled out and Trianon was kept frozen in place by Gerald's stare. The man was rather plain looking with greying hair and blue-eyes, but that didn't deter from the fact that he was lethal.

"Sir…I should return to my duties," Trianon said at last, standing up and smoothing her skirts.

"Right. Good work Miss…"

"Tria," Trianon replied softly, gazing at the door as if she could pull it closer to where she stood.

"Miss Tria. Well, fill up a tray and carry on," Clark mused after awhile.

Trianon smiled and hopped out of the room with a squeak as Gerald pinched her bottom. Eyes wide as saucers as she yanked her skirts down, Trianon clenched her teeth and stalked down the staircase. She would have to tell Quistis that there was a compartment about Clark's bed, and that they weren't the only spies in the building.

Xxxx

Author's Note:

I am exhausted. Handed in my essays, went to the doctor, took me an hour and a half each way, it was pouring I got wet…ahhhhh! I'm sorry this is so short, but it's all I could write this morning. I'm too tired even for reviews…I'll try and catch up next week, though keep in mind my boyfriend will be visiting, so I might make the update a day or two late. For now, must study exams!