Lyrics belong to Alizee from Youpidou

: Tes mots d'amour, c'est pas le jour!
Un mot de trop, c'est ce qu'il faut.
J'vais faire un tour, aux alentours...
J'ai le moral au grand zéro.:

"Just so you know, I think this is a really bad idea," Amy announced as we entered the private entrance of the airport.

"Noted," I nodded, taking her hand as we were lead through back hallways to a private gate. We stopped in the lounge, lushly furnished couches thick enough to sleep comfortably on.

"You're pilot, Antonio will be with you soon," our usher bowed and turned back the way we came. We exchanged glances and sat down, Scud, facing us, tapping his feet impatiently.

"You know where the headquarters is?" I asked Amy.

"Of course. Don't worry, we'll get there okay," she squeezed my hand.

"Scud, you ready for this?"

"Whatever we gotta do to get Janet back," he nodded, then met Amy's look. "And, you know, save all the other DEBS."

"Miss Diamond?" The accent was thick we all stood quickly, I held out my hand.

"Yes, you must be Antonio."

"Si," he nodded, bowed his head a bit, and ignored my hand.

"All right then," I lowered my hand.

"Markus said you need passage to Paris, and from there I am to wait for your instructions, correct?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"In Paris I will need to rest, the airplane is equipped with space for me; you will need accommodations for the night."

"Not a problem," I assured him.

"Yes," he looked us over disgustedly. "We will go now." He turned on his heel, and strode down the walkway to the plane. We quickly gathered our bags, trotting after him into the private jet.

"Ho shit," Scud smiled looking around the jet. It had couches around the interior, and plasma TV's at either end of the cabin area.

"So how do you know this guy?" I asked Amy, sinking into one of the couches.

"I met him at the market," she shrugged, he complimented my hair.

"He is creepy weird," I frowned.

"Who cares? We are traveling luxury class!" Scud was reclined out across one of the couches. "We need to travel like this every time we go on a crime spree." Amy tossed a pillow at him.

"No crime sprees," she shook her head.

"Babe, I hate to tell you, but we're about to be on one," I pointed out gently.

"This is a rescue mission," she corrected.

"It's breaking and entering."

"With good reason," she argued.

"There's always a good reason," Scud piped up. "New car, pay off bills."

"New Jimmy Choo's," I threw in, Amy gave me a look.

"You don't care about fashion."

"I so do," I argued, interrupted as Antonio's bored voice came over the loud speaker.

"We are taking off, you will buckle up tight and I will tell you when you may relax."

"That's comforting," Scud muttered, sitting up and tightening his seatbelt.

"I care about fashion. These boots," I stuck a foot out for her inspection. "Steve Madden and this t shirt? Guess." Amy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you are a fashionista." I smiled, and grabbed her hand as the jet lunged into action, holding her tight as we were quickly in the air.

"You may now relax," Antonio spoke, and the plasma TV's flashed on, shelves opening to reveal a stunning amount of DVD's. Before Scud could become too distracted, I pulled him on task.

"Amy you have the sketch of the building?"

"As well as I can remember," she pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket, smoothing it on the coffee table in front of us, we all leaned forward.

"We're going to enter through the side door, which will put us in the stairway; the vault is in the basement, just one level down. The Paris chapter is one of the oldest in the force, one of the easiest to penetrate, probably why Katia picked it to start with."

"Does it really matter? I mean all the DEBS are away." Scud asked.

"I'm betting the DEBS have plenty of security set up," Amy nodded at me.

"Not so much in Paris, but depending where she sends us we could have a hard time. Paris has cameras that feed into other DEBS headquarters, so no problems there, but every room is equipped with motion sensor that will force the place into lock down if stimulated. Which is why we brought the scrambler." She held it up for visual proof. "After that the six inch steel vault door."

"Which is why we brought dynamite," Scud smiled.

"Or we could use the lock gun," I offered, "less mess."

"I think you mean less fun," Scud grinned. "These all the notes?"

"I think," Amy nodded.

"Good, then I am going to get some sleep, cause I have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

"Good plan," Amy nodded, folding back up the makeshift map. Scud slipped headphones on and curled up on his couch away from us. We managed to curl up together on our own couch, I stroked Amy's hair, eyes shut, only the gentle hum of the jet.

"Are we really doing crime?" Amy whispered.

"Yes, we really are," I answered, kissing her brow, she opened her eyes, and I smiled down at her.

"The DEBS are more important then shoes right?"

"Almost," I grinned.

"Lucy," she frowned.

"Yes, they are. Saving the DEBS makes this all justifiable."

"Says the girl who justifies stealing for shoes," she grinned, shutting her eyes again.

"Hey, they are really nice shoes," I defended, and she laughed quietly.

"Thanks for this, not everyone would fly around the world stealing money to save her girlfriends friends." I smiled, kissing her again, before shutting my eyes and lying down again.

"Well, to be fair it's not everyone who has the experience or ability to do all that."

We were on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower by nine thirty. Even with the fates of every DEB in the world on our shoulders, and an impending robbery, the Paris effect was kicking it. We strolled casually, having time to kill, I held Amy's hand happily, almost able to block out the rest of it.

"It's beautiful at night isn't it?" Amy asked, leaning her head to mine.

"Totally," I agreed, kissing her forehead.

"I never thought about how great it would be to be here with you," Amy smiled, as we stood looking up at the tower. "Before I didn't understand the whole love reputation of Paris."

"But now?" I asked, grinning and pulling her to me, arms wrapped around her waist.

"Now it all seems perfect," she smiled, meeting my lips, I pulled her closer, ready for a long intense kiss, a perfect kiss under the Eiffel tower, behind us Scud cleared his throat.

"My girlfriend might die soon. Get blown up actually," we separated, both turning to face him. He stood, not looking at us, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. He turned to look at us then. "Just keeping your heads in the game," he shrugged. I slapped him across the back of the head.

"So where's the headquarters?" I asked, sighing, the mood completely gone.

"Just over there," Amy pointed, and we started in the direction. Crossing a busy street, and walking about a block down, Amy stopped in front of a stone building, shorter then those around it. It was beautiful in a very old kind of way.

"This is it."

"And the contact is where?" Scud looked around.

"Katia said the contact would be here at ten," I checked my watch, nine fifty-nine. "They should be here."

"I'm here." From behind us a woman our age strode forward, shoes clacking on the pavement, she turned, facing us, arms crossed, legs long in a short black skirt, and heels, perfectly tailored suit jacket revealing more than a tease of cleavage, red hair that could only come from a bottle, cut to frame her face. I snapped my attention back to Amy when I felt I had been staring too long. Amy stood, slack jawed looking at the woman.

"Conner?"