A/N: Short again, I know. But I just got back from a trip, so I'm too tired to write any more before I take a nap. I'll try to post more after I catch a few winks. ::grabs baseball glove and a lacrosse stick:: I'm gotta catch some! Really.

Alright, to all my reviewers, I will e-mail you each later, but as of now, I'm too tired, so I'll just give a general shoutout to:

AOLANI

THE CHESHIRE CAT'S SMILE

COWGIRL 13

ICYFIRE

VANILLAROSE

LISA

LUNAR

FOENIXFYRE

MOONWHISPER

BLOOKNABURG

JAID SKYWALKER

Thank you all SOOOO much!!! Especially all those who sent me little messages of encouragement. I love you guys!!! ::sniffles:: Yeah…

"Poisoned?!" Madame Breilloule stood up at the head of the long table. "You say it has been poisoned?"

Spike nodded, wiping his mouth furiously on his sleeve.

She gestured to her butler. "Pierrot, is Monsieur Spiegel telling the truth?"

The butler approached Spike primly, wrinkling his nose slightly. He picked up Spike's plate of food, and sniffed it. "I am afraid to say Madame, this food is perfectly fine. It seems Monsieur Spiegel was just trying to stir up trouble."

Faye covered her face, wanting more than anything to just hide under the table until everyone forgot about her.

Spike glared at the butler. "Alright, if it is not poisoned, then you take a bite!"

Pierrot immediately began to protest. "Monsieur you are out of your head! I could never eat food such as-"

"Pierrot!" Madame Breilloule interrupted. "I grant you leave to sample Monsieur Spiegel's food. Do as he says." She tilted her head, eyes glittering.

"Very well." The butler produced a silver fork from his pocket, and daintily speared himself a bite. He chewed it, and swallowed. "There, you see Madame? Perfectly fine. With your permission, I will have Monsieur Spiegel escorted out of your presence."

Pierrot grabbed Spike's arm, glaring, stepped forward, and abruptly collapsed to the ground. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he started twitching and writhing. He began to turn red, as his capillaries burst, and foam gathered at the corners of his mouth. He choked and gasped, as his body convulsed. Slowly, his movements began to slow, and with one great shudder, he lay still.

The guests all backed away in horror. Madame Breilloule stood firm, regarding Spike with level eyes. If she was worried or scared, it didn't show. She turned to a security guard who had suddenly appeared. "See that he is buried, and his contacts notified." Turning back to the party, she said, "I fear that this tragic turn of events bodes ill for the rest of the party. Therefore, I am ending our get-together early, and I hope all of you remain well. Monsieur Spiegel and Mademoiselle Hart, I would like to speak with you."

As the nervous guests began to depart, Faye and Spike cautiously approached her.

Madame Breilloule checked to make sure the last guest was out of hearing distance, before speaking. "I had suspected this would happen sooner or later. We are fortunate that you are so familiar with poisons, Monsieur Spiegel, and that you were not also infected."

Spike smiled and patted his stomach. "I'm made of iron, inside and out, Madame. But what confuses me, is whether this was meant for F-Mrs. Hart and I, or for the whole party."

Madame Breilloule paced slowly, tapping one callused finger against her thin lips. "I wondered that myself. I will have some forensics come down immediately, and check all the plates, the kitchen, and ingredients. No staff person leaves, or enters my house, until all of this has been sorted out." She whirled and pointed a finger at Spike. "You, Monsieur Spiegel, are lucky to be alive." She watched as several security guards carried the unfortunate Pierrot away. "I would be pleased if you and Mademoiselle Hart would join me at the opera tomorrow. We have things to discuss."

Faye stammered an affirmative, and Spike took her weakness as an excuse to get out of there. "Of course, Madame. But Mademoiselle Hart is wracked with shock and fatigue. I feel that I must get her home, elsewise she is sure to collapse!"

A glitter in the women's eyes showed that they both saw through his ploy, though neither said a word of it.

Madame Breilloule smirked. "Then I grant you leave. I shall see you precisely at three o'clock. My limousine will pick you up. Best of luck, and may the God of Luck shine upon you." Without another word, she turned on her heel, and strode out of the hall, the large doors swooshing shut behind her.

Faye whirled to Spike. "What where you thinking?! Are you insane?! Wait- don't answer that, I don't want to know. That butler is dead! That could have been you! Or me! And wha-"

Spike held up a hand. "Faye…"

She reddened. "What I'm trying to say, is I'm glad you're okay. If you had eaten that food and…"

He smiled, and she slipped into his embrace, burying her face in his silk shirt.

Spike rubbed her neck, and rested his chin on her head, closing his eyes. Reluctantly, he pulled away. "Let's get home before anyone else tries to poison, shoot, or attempt to blow us to Kingdom Come. Again."

Faye grinned up at him, and grabbed her purse. "Alright. Home it is."

As they walked out the door, Faye's voice could be heard floating over the silent hall. "Elsewise? What was with 'elsewise'?! I mean, come on!"