Jessica rolled over in bed and yawned. It had been such a restful night, and she felt so good that morning, she wasn't ready for it to be over. She kept her eyes closed, clinging to her blissful feelings for as long as she could allow herself before finally opening her eyes and sitting up.

The first thing she noticed was the brightness of the light coming through the window. She looked at the clock and saw it read eight twenty-seven.

"Oh, shit!" She jumped out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. "Girls," she said loudly, "it's time to wake up. We're late."

Olivia sat up bleary-eyed. "Huh?" she yawned.

"Cassie must have slept through her alarm," Jess said as she frantically brushed her hair. "Cass, are you getting up?" No answer. "Cass, come on, we're late." She walked over and placed her hand on the pile of blankets on Cassie's bed, and was surprised when she felt nothing solid under them. "Cassie?" She ripped the covers back to reveal an empty bed.

"Oh my god, Olivia!" She turned to face her roommate. "Where did Cassie go?"

Later That Evening:

Charlie squeezed the tube of shaving cream, dispensing a dollop into the bowl on the vanity. Taking his badger hair shaving brush in hand, he picked up the bowl and proceeded to whip the cream into a good lather. Over the years, Charlie had come to view shaving as an art, and almost an indulgence. An indulgence that he had been skipping out on for the last couple months.

After their shopping spree, he and Cass had returned to the hotel he was staying at. Charlie immediately booked two new rooms that were adjacent to each other with a connecting doorway, thereby giving both of them proper privacy while still maintaining close enough proximity for him to be of help in case of any foul play. He planned to call the police first thing in the morning and inform them of the attempted kidnapping in the alley, once this business deal was taken care of.

His chin now adequately covered with shaving cream, he opened his straight razor and began to glide the edge across his cheeks, the impeccably sharpened edge cutting through his coarse whiskers. It gave him a sort of satisfaction, shaving with a straight razor. It made him feel like James Bond. He flipped the blade with a well practiced motion of his hand and began on his other cheek. After all, he thought, what better way to lead into a black tie meeting than a ritual that made him feel like James Bond?

In the other room Cassie tugged on the dress she had purchased that day, scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror. She could imagine the sea-blue evening gown looking fantastic on some high profile socialite, but on her? Cassie Drake, the tomboy? The image was hard to reconcile. She frowned as she examined the form-fitting garment. Had it been so revealing when she tried it on at the boutique? It had seemed like one of the more modest garments compared to a lot of the other gowns, but now as she looked at herself she could hardly imagine wearing it the whole night long. It was certainly a far cry from her usual tank top and jeans.

She sighed and flicked her head, tossing her shoulder-length hair back. Being all dressed up like this made her feel more like a woman, and less like a teenage girl. It felt strange, but also empowering in a certain way, like she had a fresh dose of confidence. She tried on a smile in the mirror, but suddenly the confidence gave way to a nagging insecurity. Cassie Drake, the geeky girl who spends her free time digging in the dirt and researching ancient societies, going to some black tie business meeting? Who was she kidding? She turned away, deciding it would take more than a flattering evening gown to make her feel like a woman.

Speaking of which, she needed to call her parents and tell them what happened. And Jess and Olivia. And Mr. McKay. She dug in her backpack for her phone, and then remembered that the thugs who attacked her had taken it. Shit, she thought. She'd have to buy a new one. Heaving another sigh, she decided to call in the morning from Cutter's phone. She'd come up with some sort of excuse to tell her school group.

Cassie walked out into her bedroom and slipped on the high-heeled shoes Charlie had bought for her to go with the dress, and then knocked on the door between their two rooms. No answer. She cracked the door open and called. "Charlie?" Still no answer. She walked in and called again.

"In here!" Came a voice from behind the closed door to the bathroom. "I'll, er, be out in a minute."

Charlie looked down at himself and realized he should get a shirt on before he went out. He was no stranger to having women along with him on his "business trips", or even to having them stay in his room with him, but having the eighteen year old daughter of an old friend seemed to call for a bit more propriety. The last of the shaving cream was cleaned off his face with a fresh towel, and he slipped into his shirt and began buttoning it. His hard reflection glared back at him in the vanity mirror, and he was reminded why he didn't often suit up like this. His features were a bit too gruff and tough to ever really look at home in a tuxedo. Normally this is the type of thing he would leave to Nate in days gone by, or even to Sam, but those days were a thing of the past. Still, he himself felt more at ease in a leather jacket and jeans.

He donned his waistcoat and opened the door to the room. "You rang?" he asked the young Cassie who was sitting on the couch.

"You arranged a meeting to trade an artifact on the square, and your code word was 'plum dumplings'?" Cassie said with an amused smirk.

"Well I just had them for dinner the other night," Charlie said. "They were delicious. Cafe Savoy is where I got them..."

"Right," Cassie said. She was holding the compass in her hand, and absent-mindedly flipped it open. "So now can you tell me what the big deal is with this compass? It doesn't even point north."

"Right," Cutter said, pointing at the compass. "But does that dragon look familiar?"

Cassie's brow furrowed as she examined the image on the compass rose. "Vaguely... is it- English?"

"Right," Charlie prodded her to continue, and took a seat in a chair across from her.

Cassie reached for the leather bracelet she often wore- a habit of hers when she was trying to bring something to mind- but but found a bare wrist and remembered she wasn't wearing it tonight. Instead she ran a hand through her hair and looked at the ceiling. "Oh!" She snapped her fingers. "It's the Arthurian coat of arms!"

"Exactly," said Cutter. "So this compass was made by the Nazis, who had supposedly found the island of Avalon. Story goes that they built a secret train going under the ocean that went to it, and used the train to transport some of the wealth off the island."

"The Nazi 'ghost train'!" Cassie exclaimed.

"Yeah. But when the war was lost, they buried the train and destroyed all evidence of the island's existence, except for this compass," he said, tapping his finger on the brass casing, "which is designed to point the way to Avalon."

"That is so cool!" Cassie said, looking dreamily at the item in her hand. Then she frowned suddenly and looked up at Charlie. "So, wait, this thing supposedly leads to Avalon, and you're just going to sell it to some guy?"

"'Supposedly' is the operative word, love. I think it's a bunch of hogwash, myself. But Foster is an up and coming treasure hunter in the world of- well, you know, treasure hunters, and he's full of all sorts of romantic ideas."

"But what if it is true?" Cassie objected.

Charlie glanced at her as he found his dinner jacket and put his arms in. "Then Ian knows right where to find me when he gets in over his head." He tugged on his lapels as he turned back to Cassie. "I'm getting to be too bloody old for this, love. Not good for too much besides the more basic fetch quests."

"Oh, bullshit-" Cassie spouted.

"Hey now," Charlie said, shaking a finger at her. "You'd better watch your mouth, sailor. I don't want your parents accusing me of corrupting their daughter's morals when you get home."

She scoffed. "Don't worry. They know exactly where I got my mouth from."

Charlie chuckled. "How's the old man doing by the way?"

"Fine," Cassie shrugged. "We're still doing several digs a year, most of the time."

"Helluva way to grow up, lass. I think I envy you."

"Don't bother," she said.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "No? Don't like the archeology gig?"

"Oh, no, I do!" Cassie said quickly. "It's just, well- I guess it's just not the most popular thing with other people my age."

"Popular, shmopular," Charlie muttered. "Popular is what you make it, love. I went bald in my early thirties, and I made it seem bloody awesome, damn it- er, darn it. Sorry."

"Don't be," Cassie laughed. "Seriously."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Charlie's mouth. "Well, love, you may have gotten your language from your dad, but your looks are all mum," he said. "You look fabulous in that dress, if I might say."

"Really?" Cassie said, blushing. "Gee, uh, thanks." She straightened her glasses. "Do you think it'll seem weird to anyone if we show up there, like, together?"

"Well, you could easily pass for early twenties, but I wasn't planning on going as a couple," Charlie said. "You're my 'business associate'. Besides, this is Prague- a city where money speaks louder than morals. There will be plenty of geezers older than me there with girls your age. It's just a matter of whether the price is right."

"Yeah, I guess so," Cassie said.

"Now," announced Charlie, "if I can remember how to do a bow tie, we'll be ready, and we might still make it there before we're late."