Disclaimer: I own nothing of King Arthur. This story and all of its contents is purely fictional. Not the MI5 or SIS of course but…you know what I mean.

Author Note:

Beautiful Enigma: Yes Tristan is a sexy beast. I'm sorry we don't see more of Arthur in this chapter but…I'll try to put him in the next one. Enjoy.

Cardeia: Glad you liked it. It was hard with the scene between Ania and Tristan but I got through it. Things move on in this chapter but I leave room for disaster as you'll see.

I needed to put that bit with Vanora and Bors in there because I couldn't let everything go smoothly. What kind of story would that be? lol.

I had to give him that simple feel. I can't see him as anything more than that. He'd make a great governor. 'Smirk'.

I think Ania acted in the heat of the moment when Guinevere was kidnapped. I don't think I'd scream a code name if my cousin was being kidnapped.

Enjoy this chapter.

All right readers, don't kill me at the end of this chapter. Someone might die, someone might not…I'll see on my mood. Review.

Lost in translation

Ania yanked open the door of her bedroom. She glared at the three men standing before her, letting them know they are neither welcome nor at any point going to be appreciated, before letting them into her hotel suite.

They all walked in silently and made their way into the living room. Ania slammed the door closed, further adding to their assumption of her being, 'pissed off.'

"I've locked down the hotel," she said matter-of-factly. "All the residents have been stationed in their hotel rooms until further notice and all staff have been placed in a holding room where the international base of SIS are taking statements about what they have or have not seen. What are you doing here?"

"Well," Lancelot began, inwardly cringing at the furious expression on her face, "Arthur…sent us to make sure nothing-"

"We were backup," Dagonet interrupted. "You weren't supposed to know we were here because we were supposed to watch and make sure no one was following or intercepting your mission."

Ania raised her eyebrows. "Well you obviously didn't do your job. I've been working on this case for over a year. I've seen the photo's of what happens to people who end up in the hands of Honorius and I can tell you…it's not pretty."

"We might know where she is," Tristan said patiently. He opened his computer and speedily typed in his password. "There is a base in the dodgy part of Rome, where fashion designers hold underground launches and parties which usually involve under age models drinking and taking drugs. Honorius is said to have an in with one of the groups."

"How do you expect to get in?" she asked.

Lancelot looked her up and down. "Ever been on the catwalk?"

0-0-0

London: The bus

Vanora frantically bustled around the bus trying to put together all the papers and software together so she could watch the interception of the coming mission.

Ania had just called through, telling her of the current situation and their plan. Ania was to go undercover as an up and coming model to perform in Adalento Vizzini's latest fashion launch.

Marius Honorius, being the show off he was, would almost certainly be at the launch. It was then that the team would arrest him, supposing that all went to plan. "Ania, you've modelled before. This will be easy for you," she said breathlessly as she sat down behind the desk.

"No one else knows that," Ania said patiently. "I just want to get Guin back."

"I know, were working on it. Alright?"

"Yeah," Ania sighed. "Bye, Van."

Vanora put down the phone and looked at Arthur. He was sitting behind his desk making the connections of the underground security camera facility. Galahad put a hand on her shoulder, taking her out the depths of her thoughts and handed her a mug of coffee. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him.

He smiled at her and said, "Everything's going to be alright, Van."

"I hope so, Galahad," she answered, staring into the mug.

Bors rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Ever since taking Vanora out to dinner the other night he had not been able to string two intelligent words together. He couldn't help but stare as she sat behind her desk, beautiful as she was.

'Beautiful,' he scolded. 'What am I? A pudgy MI5 agent, that's what!'

He sighed silently and looked back to his computer screen. This was not going to be an easy task.

0-0-0

"Darling!"

Ania stepped back from her door and let her guests in. After coming to the conclusion that it was she who would be going undercover on the mission she called her uncle and his life long partner, Agador and William. "Hey uncle," she said, turning around with a slight smile.

Agador, wearing a pink jacket and jeans, looked around the room happily and smiled at Ania after a quick assessment. "We've been called into action!" he said. "Come on! You have to tell me what this for!"

William, wearing a leopard skin shirt and cream pants, patted her arm and gave her his 'you-asked-for-it' look.

True – her uncle was very…open…about his life and love for design. Which is why he became a designer. One of the highest and most called for in Italy.

"I have some people for you to meet first," Ania said. She led them into the lounge room where Tristan was working at his computer, Lancelot was taking a drink by the windows and Dagonet was sitting on the couch reading. "Uncle Will, uncle Agador," she said, announcing her presence to the men. "This is Tristan, Dagonet and Lancelot."

Agador looked at his niece in shock. The tanned foundation on his face became more noticeable in the lounge room lights and Dagonet and Tristan shared a knowing look. These men were gay.

"All of them? Here? In your room?" he asked her.

"What?" Ania asked. "No!" she scolded upon realising where his mind was going. "I work with them."

"Doing what, dear?" Agador asked, looking at Tristan with an air of indifference.

"Work," she said in a tone which told him she was not going to elaborate. "I need you to…help with something."

Both men raised their eyebrows and looked at the other three men in the room.

"Do you know Adalento Vizzini?" she asked them, trying to catch their attention.

Agador tapped his mouth with his index finger and arched an eyebrow. "Yes," he droned. "He's just a phone call away. Which one are you sleeping with?"

Lancelot gave a loud snort and after receiving a glare from Tristan quickly turned it into a chocking cough.

"None of them!" Ania said. "Look…in need for you to get me into his show."

Agador laughed. "Honey, remember when you broke up with that boyfriend of yours a few years ago? Well I told you to get into modelling but you refused! Why do you want to start now?"

Tristan and Ania looked at one another uncomfortably, Lancelot handed her a glass of whisky. This was going to be a nightmare.

She downed it quickly as William sat down on the couch opposite Tristan and Dagonet. He looked at Tristan with narrowed eyes. He knew this man from somewhere.

"I just need you to get me into the show," Ania said to her uncle. "Can you do it?"

"Of course!" Agador pulled out his phone. "Just a minute."

'Thank the Gods.' Ania looked at William; Lancelot snatched the glass from her hand a poured more drink in there before downing it. "You never told me your uncle was gay!" he hissed.

"Who cares?" she demanded softly. "He does his job, he's a fag so who cares!"

Lancelot glared at her. "Have you seen what gay men do?"

"No, I'm straight so why would I?" she asked him, taking the glass from his hand and filling it.

Lancelot didn't bother with the glass this time. He just put the bottle in his mouth and took a mouthful.

Tristan looked at William for a moment before looking back to his screen. 'Bloody fags. Not only do I have to work with my ex, I have to be around gay men.'

Dagonet leaned back on the couch and looked at Ania from the corner of his eye. She was standing uncomfortably, near the wall looking at the floor. He nudged Tristan with his knee and cocked his head toward the exhausted woman. Tristan looked at Ania and sighed. He knew he had to say something to her.

"Done!" Agador said, re-entering the room. "You're in the show."

"Just like that?" Ania asked. "He doesn't even know what I look like!"

William laughed. "Everyone knows what you look like. Agador keeps a whole photo album of photos in his handbag."

Agador smiled. "Never mind, dear," he said, patting her shoulder. "You're so far away all the time so I have to have something with me."

"A whole photo album?" William asked. He shrugged. "Anyway-"

"Will you be there?" she asked them.

"Of course!" Agador said, looking hurt. "Well…see you there then. I'll send details to your email."

"Okay," she said, leading them back to the door. "Bye."

0-0-0

A few hours after Agador and William left, Lancelot lay sleeping on the couch and Dagonet dozing lightly beside him.

Ania had gone to her room a while ago to rest but was finding it hard to sleep because Tristan was in the next room.

A still, calming silence was around Tristan was he sat, cross legged on the balcony. He looked out onto the patio where Guinevere had been kidnapped and before long closed his eyes. This job was getting to him. Everything was prepared for the mission but he felt uneasy knowing Ania was going to be the one inside.

Why was he worried? He'd seen her in action before. She knew how to fight and shoot a gun just like he did, but it didn't stop his worry. He needed a fix; badly. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to get away from the thought because if he dwelled on it, it is most likely he would be purchasing the weed and smoking it before the hour was new.

The curtains to the patio moved aside and Ania walked out. "Tristan?"

He looked up at her, shocked to hear her calling his name. She smiled at him nervously and sat down beside him. She crossed her legs underneath her and leaned back against the wall. "H...how have you been?" she asked, looking at her hands.

He looked down at her, his face blank of emotion, and relaxed. "Fine."

She did not lift her head, but her eyes looked ahead of her and closed. "Good," she said softly. She sat in silence for a moment before trying to make conversation again, "How long have you been an agent?"

"Three and a half years," he said. "You?"

"The same," she said. She looked at him briefly and gave a small smile. She had nothing left to say. She had run out of…obvious questions to ask, trying to make conversation and was now stuck out here with a man who didn't want to look at her let alone speak.

Tristan looked at her from the corner of his eye and scolded himself for being so cold. It was this hard years ago, before they dated, but it shouldn't be this way now.

Flashback:

Ania sat on her favourite sofa by the fire in the library of the castle. She pulled out a purple folder and stored one of the many papers on her lap into the folder before putting it back on the arm rest. She'd been studying for hours for the test she had the next morning. Guinevere was in her room sleeping, as per usual, and Vanora was out with Bors, again. Which left her alone to study, which she was thankful for, and she was doing really well until Tristan decided to walk into the library and take her thoughts away from where they should be. That was more than two hours ago.

Isolde sent Ania a glare from the opposite side of the room and unbuttoned her school shirt to the fourth button. Ania rolled her eyes and gave her the finger before retuning to her work.

Tristan, who kept his head down the whole time, noticed the silent messages between the girls and smiled to himself. He'd never seen Ania do something vulgar in public, and he had to admit, he liked that side of her.

She rose from her seat, pulling her skirt down behind her, and pulled out a book from the shelf.

Lancelot pranced into the library just as Ania was sitting down and walked to where Tristan was sitting. "Why aren't you sitting by the fire with that lovely creature?" he whispered, sitting down opposite Tristan and cocking his head in Ania's direction.

"I came here to study," Tristan muttered, "not fuck around."

Lancelot smirked. "You don't do that very much though, do you?"

Tristan glared at him and continued to write his essay on 'English war and where it has brought us'. A tedious job in his opinion. Who cares about where war brought the English people? This is something Arthur would be interested in, not him.

It wasn't until the next day, that things between Ania and Tristan began to take a turn.

The boys had decided that for the weekend that they were going to go to one of the underground clubs in London. Lancelot, being the part goer of them all decided it was best to go to 'Cradle', one of the rowdiest clubs in all of Britain.

The thumping dance music pumped in Tristan's ears as he stepped past the bouncers. He felt the floor moving beneath him and his heartbeat going in sync with the beat. He followed Dagonet, who was leading the group to the bar; where he knew he would be all night. He didn't like to dance.

He sat down and ordered a beer. The voluptuous bartender smiled at him and went to take his order as Lancelot began to work his magic on the dance floor. Galahad quickly began flirting with the bar tender who had just given Tristan his beer while Arthur sat quietly beside him until Bors and Lancelot pulled him to the dance floor to 'meet some babes'.

Half an hour past with Tristan going through three beers and a tequila shot. A woman wearing a short blue dress and high heels arrived at the bar beside him and asked the bartender for some ice. The bartender looked at her knowingly and handed the ice bucket over to her. She was about turn away when she stoped and shouted over the loud music, "Tristan?"

He looked at her and almost did a double take. The 'little' blue dress was snug over her curves and making her tanned skin glow in the neon lights. She smiled at him and he nodded in greeting. "Taking a good break from 'The benefits of Democracy in the 21st Century?" she asked, referring to the essay they were assigned to write by their least favourite Professor.

He gave a tiny smile and nodded, twirling the beer bottle on the bench. "Yeah. What are you doing here?"

Ania looked at the ice bucket and looked hastily to the side of the room. "Guinevere's as drunk as a skunk," she said with a laugh. "I have to get her home but not before sobering her up a bit."

"Do you need a ride?" he asked loudly, trying to overthrow the music and not knowing where the words were coming from.

She shook her head. "I have my car, thanks though." She cringed as she watched Guinevere stumble as she tried to get to her feet. "I have to go. I'll see you later though. Bye."

He lifted his hand in goodbye. His heart leapt as she looked back to him when she walked to Guinevere.

End of Flashback

0-0-0

Ania woke up with the feeling of a heavy arm over her body. Her eyes snapped open in shock. She lifted her head and looked around the messy room which was littered with the disposed clothes of her and the man lying beside her.

The memory of the previous night rushed back into her mind as she looked at Tristan's sleeping face.

After the uncomfortable silence he asked her…something…she couldn't remember right at this moment…but, she answered and before she knew it she was kissing him madly as he wrapped his arms around her.

They both stumbled into the lounge room where they looked around in worry because Lancelot and Dagonet had been there and sighed when the coast was clear. They had gone to their own beds to sleep. They stumbled into her room, ripping of their clothes, and…the rest is history.

She rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. Tristan shifted and opened his eyes for a second before closing them and wrapping his arms tighter around her body. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. "This job would be easier if Guinevere was here," she muttered.

Tristan lazily stroked her arm in a silent response. "Are you sorry? About what we did?"

"No," she answered, very sure of herself. "This isn't going into my report though."

She chuckled sleepily and Tristan smiled at her sardonic humour. "I'll keep it out of mine."

It was going to take a little while for things to go back to normal but she'd been alone too long and loved him to much to let it go again.

Ania groaned half an hour later when her phone rang. She detangled herself from Tristan and fumbled around on the floor beside her bed and found her phone. She lay back down on Tristan's chest and answered it.

"Ania?"

She sat up quickly. "Guinevere? Where are you?"

She heard a sniffling sound and a tearful chocking noise before she said, "I don't know. I'm being held hostage by Honorius himself."

Tristan sat up and looked at Ania, waiting calmly to find out what was being said. "Honorius is holding her," Ania told him. Tristan rose from the bed and pulled on his pants. He had to collect Lancelot and Dagonet.

The voice Ania heard next on the phone, was not Guinevere's. "Greetings Miss Laurent," said an accented voice.

"Who are you?" she asked, pulling on her clothes as she spoke.

"You know who I am, you've been chasing me for three years, my dear," he said coyly.

"What are you going to do with Guinevere?" Ania asked, she walked out of her room pulling on her shirt.

"Keep her," he answered after a moment. He smirked into the phone and said huskily, "Do you want to join her? We could have such fun you and I-"

"Fuck you!"

"I still might," he said calmly. "I know I'd be better than say…Tristan Schiller?"

Ania looked up as Lancelot stumbled sleepily into the room with Tristan. "How do you know about that?" she asked into the phone.

"I know as much about you, as you do of me," he hissed. "And that is a lot pretty woman so if I was you I would not be in that fashion show tomorrow."

Dagonet loaded his computer to scan the calls frequency so he could track down where the caller was calling from. He held up a hand which mean he was asking for five more seconds. Ania nodded and asked, "And what if I don't?"

Honorius laughed. "Then agent Luchlan isn't going to see another day."

The line went dead.

"Got him," Dagonet exclaimed. "He's in the building."

Ania looked at the men in shock. Tristan was the first to react. He handed Ania a gun and opened the door to the room. Dagonet led the way up the stairs to room 23.

Ania followed Tristan, holding her gun close to her chest, and motioned the all clear for Dagonet to open the door to the room. Lancelot looked down the steps and saw doors opening. He motioned for them to go back in their rooms after brandishing his badge. Dagonet kicked the door open and ran inside. Tristan followed calmly and Ania stood in the door way.

"This is too easy," she said to herself.

Dagonet stood in the middle of the room and lowered his gun. "There is no one here!"

Ania heard the noise of something ticking and gasped. She looked behind the door and stared at the bright red numbers which were counting down the seconds to zero. 4 seconds to go…

Author Note: Sorry about the cliffie.