A/N: I know ffnet had a bug when I uploaded chapter 5 and no one could review then. I'd like to thank everyone who came back to review even days after you read the chapter. You people rock!

I made an illustration for chapter 4, about Nat and Kitty's wedding. You can view the pic by clicking on the relevant link in my ffnet bio :) (I will be posting more illustrations there later – currently I have another four or five… but I will only post those when I have already posted the chapters they are based on :) Also, a friend – Ginger-Wolfy - on deviantart illustrated Nat's 'pool-surprise' from chapter 5 – I linked that one into my bio too (hilarious little comic, IMHO).

Review responses sent out as usual.

Also thanks to: Hello, Aiko Moonchild, Queen Dragon, Deaces, xav (have a look at the coverart, xav, it will answer your question), Astrensi, swordsrock, Sofie, Rekhyt, ladyaymie

WARNING: this is another strong T-rated chapter. Nat is a naughty boy…

Chapter 6

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Nathaniel's heart was thumping so hard and fast that he thought it wanted to jump out of his chest. He kept glancing at his watch every five seconds, nervously tapping the steering wheel. He had to fight down the urge to hop out of his limousine and walk to Piccadilly, since it seemed he might have got there quicker on foot.

Leave the car? – He was surprised that such a thing even came to his mind. This car had cost him a small fortune! He couldn't just leave it in the middle of the London traffic!

But it's about your wife, a little voice in his head reminded him.

So what? Why should I care? Shouldn't I be happy if she died in that building? She's just a burden, a duty that Deveraux and his smart-arse friends put on my shoulders – she's something I never asked for and never wanted! I should be happy if I found her dead by the time I arrived there!

But why don't I feel a bit happy at the prospect of seeing her dead? Nathaniel's throat clenched at the thought of finding Kitty's lifeless body among the ruins. What is this woman doing to me? It's been only two days since we got married, and she's turned my life upside down already! Arggh, to hell with the limo!

He got out of the car, slammed its door shut and began running through the crowd towards Piccadilly. The closer he got to his destination, the more people were swarming around, clearly curious to see the devastation.

At Piccadilly, the sirens of the ambulance and police cars were almost deafening, and Nathaniel wished he had brought a pair of earplugs. The closer he got to the ruins of Harridges, the more he needed to blink and cough in the smoke. His eyes were watering, and he kept reciting that it was only due to the smoke. The Minister of Internal Affairs did not cry. He was tough and impassive and, if needed, merciless. He had seen enough devastation in his short life not to be moved by other people's misery. But what about his own?

Miserable? Me? – He shuddered at the thought. Smoothing his cloak, he stepped to the closest policeman.

"Report to me," he said in a demanding voice.

The policeman seemed to recognise him immediately. "Explosion happened twenty-five minutes ago, Sir. Three buildings seriously, five lightly damaged by the explosion – apart from Harridges, of course, that is - as you see, Sir - completely levelled. The firemen and several djinn are trying to get into the ruins, but they've only found seven dead people and one dead imp so far. In all honesty, Sir, it would be a miracle if anyone survived."

Nathaniel nodded, a lump rising in his throat. The policeman was right – judging by the looks of Harridges, it would indeed be a miracle if Kitty were still alive. This must have been one of the shortest marriages in living memory, he thought bitterly. I bet Jane will be happy when she finds out I'm a widower already…

"And the dead… where did the firemen take them?"

"There, Sir." The policeman pointed at a traffic island where a lump stood, covered with black foil.

His heart thumping in his throat, Nathaniel approached the lump. Another policeman was standing next to the heap, and the young Minister motioned him to lift the foil just enough to uncover the faces of the dead they had found so far.

Kitty wasn't among them.

Something started bouncing excitedly in Nathaniel's chest – was it hope?

At least an hour passed, and more and more dead – both people and demons - were discovered under the ruins. The first survivor was a four-year-old boy who, thanks to his small size, had been found wedged between three big chunks of fallen concrete. Not much later an old lady was found in a rather bad shape, but according to the doctors who examined her as soon as she was freed from the rubble, she would be all right in a few weeks.

Hope that had awoken in Nathaniel's heart shrunk rapidly, and self-accusation grew by the minute. He was mad at himself that he cared about Kitty's well-being. For a second he even thought it was his fault if she died – after all he insisted that her wardrobe was unworthy of a Minister's wife. Had he not been so damn proud…

At that moment a fireman appeared, supporting a thin, soot-covered figure. Her legs were wobbly, but she seemed to have got only a few small scratches.

For a few seconds Nathaniel just stood, rooted to the spot. Half of him wanted to run to her and gather her into his arms, but the other half – the proud and arrogant John Mandrake – held him back.

Willing himself to look composed, he walked up to the fireman and the survivor. "Kathleen. Nice to see you in one piece," he said coldly. "I'm her husband, I'll take her from here."

"As you wish, Sir." The fireman released the woman. Nathaniel hesitated whether to go and prop her, but she held up her hand.

"No need, thank you. I can walk."

"All right." He said, turning to the nearest policeman. "Officer, keep your eyes open and arrest anyone you find suspicious. This was done either by the Resistance or the Americans. I want to see someone punished! Any questions?"

"No, Sir! We'll do our best, Sir!" The policeman saluted.

Nathaniel nodded and turned back to his wife. "What happened to Bella?"

A single tear ran down Kitty's soot-covered cheek. "She died, protecting me. She… she changed into some kind of a shield and took the brunt of the impact…"

"She was an obedient servant. Too bad I'll have to summon another one to do the housework…"

"Is the housework all that matters to you?" Kitty hissed. "Don't you miss her after years and years of serving you?"

"I never really got a chance to get to know her." Nathaniel shrugged. "A foliot's a foliot, easily replaceable."

The woman looked away, her lips trembling. It was obvious she was on the verge of tears, but she valiantly fought back the sob that wanted to burst out of her.

Glancing at her dirty profile, Nathaniel felt an urge to put an arm around her and comfort her, but he thought better of it. He didn't know how to comfort someone. He had never done it before. And besides, Kitty was a strong woman, she didn't need his comfort… she'd only push him away, he reasoned with himself.

In ten minutes they reached the spot where Nathaniel had left his car. He immediately spotted a young policeman who was eyeing the limousine, scribbling something into his notebook.

"Are you planning to fine me?" Nathaniel asked sharply.

"Well, if the car is yours." The policeman - who obviously didn't recognise him – shrugged.

"I was forced to leave the car here in order to get to the ruins of Harridges as soon as possible!"

"Others too were having difficulties getting there," the policeman replied casually.

"But others aren't the Minister of Internal Affairs," the young magician said icily.

"Oh…" The policeman seemed to have shrunken. "I'm sorry… didn't recognise… Certainly, you have every right to leave your limousine wherever you please, Sir…"

"That's more like it." Nathaniel gave the young officer a patronising look, then motioned his wife to sit into the car.

Neither of them said a single word on the way back to their house. Kitty was still too much under shock, and Nathaniel was too pleased to ruin the moment with pointless talk. How he loved pulling rank! The look on the poor policeman's face had been priceless...

Soon they reached the Mandrake Residence.

As Kitty got out of the car on wobbly legs, she stumbled and fell. Of course, if Nathaniel had been polite enough to open the door for her and help her out of the car…

She pressed her lips tightly together and stood up, giving her husband a withering glance.

"The last time I offered to help you out of the car, you ignored my hand," he reminded her. "I was just respecting your individualism. But as I see, you need a hand here, so I'm willing to help you up the stairs."

"I don't need your help," she said through gritted teeth and walked past him, into the house.

"Wait! Your shoes!"

"What?"

"They're all sooty. Remember what I told you after the wedding? No one treads on my Persian carpets with dirty shoes!"

With a swift motion, Kitty jerked the shoe off her right foot and chucked it at him, quickly followed by the left one. Both missiles found their target, and before Nathaniel could have reacted, she was already sprinting up the stairs, remarkably quickly in her condition.

"Wait!" he called after her.

"What again?" She doubled back on the top of the staircase. "Do I have to drop the rest of my clothes as well, just because they're equally dirty?"

"I wouldn't mind…" Nathaniel gave her a lopsided grin.

All the way home, he had been suppressing the feeling of relief, but now, as things were back to 'normal' (e.g. Kitty throwing things at him), relief over her survival washed over him like a tidal wave.

Seeing his grin, she made a grimace. No matter how much she tried to hate him for his cheek and coldness, the more often he grinned at her in that annoyingly superior way, the less she hated him. True, most of the time she felt like punching or kicking him in various parts of his anatomy, but the mere idea of getting in contact with those 'various parts' made her blush. She felt blood running to her cheeks and she was more than grateful for the thick layer of soot covering her face.

"You know," she said finally, "it wasn't nice of you to misuse your Parliamentary privilege."

"And it wasn't nice of the policeman to fine me when I was desperate to save my w…" he stopped, suddenly he realising what he'd just said. "I mean… it would have been highly difficult, perhaps even impossible, to find another Resistance member willing to marry me…" He straightened his tie, forcing an impassive expression on his face and walked up the stairs, but no matter how hard he tried, he felt blood rushing to his cheeks.

As he tried to walk past Kitty, she grabbed his arm. "Whether or not you wanted to save me in your own interest, I'm still grateful for… for worrying about me."

"Er…" Nathaniel felt like saying 'who was worried about you?', but his tongue failed him as she leaned closer and pecked him on the cheek.

He instinctively pressed his hand on his cheek and watched unblinkingly as she disappeared on the corner. He must have been imagining things, he decided, because he felt as though his skin were burning where her lips had touched it. Which was, of course, ridiculous. Ridiculous, just like him standing rooted to the spot, dreamily staring after a girl. He was no hormone-driven fourteen-year-old, for heaven's sake! He was a man who could control himself completely, thank you very much!

And yet, this man felt he was losing control – both of his body and his feelings. For years and years he'd thought – and hoped – that he had managed to kill all emotions in himself, as John Mandrake couldn't afford to have them. A magician was supposed to be cold, calculating and concentrating on nothing else but his career. Nathaniel had tried and so far brilliantly succeeded in becoming the 'ideal magician'. Now, however… he was having feelings. And the greatest of all of them was anger. Anger at the other emotions awakening at him – and anger at himself for not being able to suppress them. As for his body losing control… he shook his head in disgust. For a few seconds he'd been thinking that despite years of having had Jane Farrar as his lover, the sooty little peck he had just received from Kitty was the most erotic experience of his life. Heck, how low can he sink?

Fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket, he rubbed his cheek to make sure that no soot remained on it, and hurried out of the house.

It was time to forget Kitty. Preferably for good.

o o o O O O o o o

Kitty watched from the window of her room as her husband left in his limousine. He seemed to be in a hurry. Could it be some important Ministry business? She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and established that it was two p.m. Usually parliamentary sessions ended before lunch, so John couldn't have gone back to Parliament, could he? Well, he might as well have received an urgent call from one of the policemen stating that they had just arrested someone who looked suspicious... so John might have hurried into his office or directly to the Tower to interrogate the suspects.

This idea seemed logical enough, but Kitty had never been a girl to listen to logic – she had been thinking with her heart all her life, and most of the time her feelings had been right. And now, her feelings were telling her that John had left to meet that woman. Again…

But why does this bother me? – She wondered, chewing her lower lip. It shouldn't. He means nothing to me… He's an annoying jerk, a stuck-up, arrogant, selfish… but he was worried about me!

Dejectedly she undressed to take a shower and wash all the dirt and blood off herself. As the droplets of water coursed down her face, they mingled with silent tears. And Kitty didn't even know why she was crying. Because of Bella's death? Because of the shock after today's events? Because of her whole fucked-up life? She had no idea, she just cried. It was a relief to cry.

o o o O O O o o o

Jane Farrar was surprised to get a visitor that afternoon, as she hadn't been expecting anyone. She was even more surprised to see a dishevelled, haunted-looking John Mandrake standing on her doormat. What surprised her most was that the always so cold and composed man grabbed her and kissed her with such force that she felt simply blown away. She barely managed to kick the door closed behind him because he held her in a vice-like grip, his lips attacking hers with fiery passion.

When they finally parted to be able to breathe, he was staring down at her hungrily, his expression reminding her of a wolf stalking its prey. "I need you Jane," he said in a low, grumbling voice. "I need you so bad…"

o o o O O O o o o

Nathaniel got home very late. He could have spent the night at Jane's place if he'd wanted to, but he didn't want to risk falling asleep in her presence and talking in his sleep.

He was more than relieved that he didn't run into Kitty in the house – she was surely asleep already. And after all, he had come home this late in order to avoid her.

The next day he got up as early as possible, and was again relieved that Kitty hadn't yet awoken. This was the right tactic, he decided: avoid her at all costs. He never minded having to work overtime if needed, so he might as well become a workaholic just to forget about his wife.

So far his plan was working, and he decided not to ponder what would happen later if he carried on arriving at work at seven a.m. and staying till ten p.m. He knew this would take its toll on him sooner or later, but being young and strong, he persuaded himself that he could take it. The only problem would be the weekends, but he'd surely make up something to solve it.

So, on Tuesday morning he arrived at Whitehall at seven (the guards were more than surprised to see a Minister this early in the morning).

Due to yesterday's catastrophe, the daily parliamentary session was cancelled, and Nathaniel spent the morning poring over reports over the damages and casualties of the explosion. At nine Ffoukes arrived with the news that the Police had someone arrested overnight and were expecting John's presence at the interrogation at three p.m.

"Excellent," Nathaniel said, trying to look really pleased and eager to conduct the interrogation. But it was just a show, and Ffoukes, being more or less his friend (the only Member of Parliament Nathaniel regarded in that light, as much as he could tell what a friend was), saw through the pretence.

"Yes, isn't it?" Ffoukes said in a would-be cheerful voice, deciding not to bother John with unwanted questions. "The girl wasn't really willing to speak so far-"

"Girl?" Nathaniel looked up.

"Yes, the person that the Police caught overnight was a girl. She was poking around the ruins at two a.m. We have no idea what she was looking for, but her behaviour was most suspicious."

"Well, it's not likely that she was trying to hide another bomb – after all, what else is left to be ruined there?" Nathaniel waved impatiently. "What's her name?"

"Margaret Watson."

"Watson, Watson… Aha!"

"Aha what?" Ffoukes raised an eyebrow at the young Minister.

"Remember the Makepeace incident?"

"How could I ever forget it?" The older man rolled his eyes. It was indeed something unforgettable – three years ago it turned out that Quentin Makepeace had been behind Lovelace and Duvall's coups and he was trying to revive the Resistance after the unfortunate tomb raid.

"When I uncovered Makepeace's plot and arrested him, I read through all the notes I found in his house. Those notes mentioned names of various Resistance members, and Margaret Watson was one of them, I clearly remember that," Nathaniel explained. "We'll see what she can tell us about the Resistance… but if she's at least a bit like Kitty-" His voice trailed off.

"John, are you all right?" Ffoukes asked worriedly.

Nathaniel shuddered and looked up from the tabletop. "Oh, yes, of course."

"So, what were you saying? If Watson is a bit like Miss Jo… I mean, Mrs Mandrake, then…?"

"Then I doubt we'll get any information from her. Kitty would die before she revealed anything about her precious Resistance fellows…"

"Well, she surely wouldn't, if you forced her to…" The older man said with a little smile. "But if you could persuade her in other way…"

Nathaniel knitted his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Seduce her, John. And perhaps when she's lying in your arms, satisfied, she might let something slip…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ffoukes. Kitty's cleverer than that. She wouldn't fall into a trap like that, and… I must admit I don't really feel like setting such a trap for her. Actually, I don't want to have anything to do with her. Not now, not ever. I did my duty by marrying her, so now Deveraux and everyone else can leave me alone with their requests concerning Kitty!"

"My, my…" Ffoukes chuckled.

"What?" Nathaniel grunted.

"You're falling in love with her, my young friend."

"What? No, I'm not! I…"

"Don't worry, John, it happens to everyone… happened to me too once. And after all, what's wrong about loving your wife?"

"I don't love her, Ffoukes."

"Yet. But apparently you're on your way there."

The young man leaned back into his leather armchair. "All right. Let's imagine it's happening to me. So, what is the only sensible action I can take? Avoid her. Ignore her. Forget about her. Therefore, I'm not willing to try to 'seduce' her for information. That would just make my situation even more difficult."

The older man shook his head. "It's not the real reason, is it?"

"The real reason for what?"

"Why you don't want to get information from her by seducing her," Ffoukes replied. "It's because you don't think it's an honest thing to do."

"Honest? I don't understand you. What makes you think I'm trying to be honest?" Nathaniel gave the older man a grimace. "The mere assumption is insulting."

"John, John… you can pretend to be just as corrupted as the rest of our government because you think it's… trendy, but truth is that you aren't. And you don't even want to be."

Nathaniel gave Ffoukes a sarcastic smirk. "Am I a lost cause, Dr. Freud?"

"Not yet. You are young John, the youngest of all the MPs. Too young to be lost already. You still have a choice to be a better person than we all are."

"I think you misunderstood me," Nathaniel said with a defiant edge. "I was wondering whether you thought I still had a chance to be corruptible, corrupted and insanely powerful."

"I know that's what you meant. But I too meant what I said," Ffoukes replied. "Speaking of the Insanely Powerful – did you hear that Deveraux thinks yesterday's attack was an indirect attack on him? The owner of that department store, Archibald Harridge is an old friend of his. He reckons the terrorists wanted to scare him through his friend. He was raving about this at the Chamber for half an hour yesterday, right after you left in such a hurry."

"Yes, I've heard about Deveraux's outburst from Jane…"

"Are you aware that you've blushed, John?"

"It's hot in here." Nathaniel stood up and opened the window, but the 'fresh' air that came into the room was even hotter.

"Well, I must be going now," Ffoukes said, deciding not to ask more awkward questions. "See you in the Tower at three, then."

"Yeah, at three." The young Minister nodded, and as the door closed behind the other man, he dropped himself unceremoniously into his armchair, closing his eyes. He wasn't feeling very well. As though the heat wasn't enough, now even Ffoukes had to tell him such confusing, embarrassing things! And why did he have to blush at the mention of Jane's name?

Groaning, he hid his face in his palms, his thoughts racing back to the previous afternoon when he'd practically behaved like a sex-crazed rhino – he'd knocked her off her feet (literally) and had his way with her on the living room floor, showing no mercy, no gentleness, nothing whatsoever, just unbridled passion. Passion, that he felt for Kitty.

Not that Jane had been complaining – she said she'd never experienced anything like this before and that she was more than satisfied with his performance. Under normal circumstances such a praise would have brought a huge, smug grin on his face, but yesterday… he'd felt ashamed.

His life had been so nice, so… normal before Deveraux and his friends made up this whole madness about him marrying Kitty! And now, only three days after the wedding, his whole world was collapsing upon him. What had seemed so natural earlier felt shameful and disgusting now.

Okay, Nathaniel, pull yourself together, and try to forget about Ki…

He hadn't even got to the end of this thought as the door of his office swung open to reveal a very upset Kathleen Mandrake.

She banged the door shut behind her and stormed up to his desk.

"Kitty, what-?"

"Just heard that your men have arrested Maggie, it was in the news!" the woman said, panting. She must have run. "But John, she's innocent!"

"Innocent? As innocent as any Resistance member can be."

"But it wasn't her who bombed Harridges! It wasn't the Resistance!"

"How can you be so sure?" He stood up and stepped to the window. "Have you been exchanging secret messages with your fellows despite the restrictions of the marriage contract?"

"I have not! But I know Maggie!" Kitty snapped. Her face was turning redder by the second, and Nathaniel couldn't help but note that she looked extremely pretty when angry. "She wouldn't bomb a building full of people, for heaven's sake! All she was doing in the ruins was searching for salvageable magical objects!"

"What makes you think so?" He asked impassively.

"Because that has always been her task in the Resistance! Collecting magical objects!"

"Collecting? You mean… stealing?"

"Whatever," she hissed. "When Maggie joined the Resistance she insisted on doing the more or less peaceful jobs – she's simply too good, too gentle to be a mass murderer!"

"We shall see if it's true… I'm going to interrogate her personally in the afternoon," the young magician said calmly, but all his pretended calmness vanished as she lunged forward and grabbed his arm.

"John, please! Don't torture her!"

Nathaniel shrugged her hands off. The thought that Kitty actually believed him evil enough to torture someone made his stomach churn. "I can't promise anything, Kathleen," he said coldly.

"Oh, yes, you can promise things," she replied with a patronising stare. "You just don't keep them. I loathe you, John Mandrake."

"Good." He nodded and turned away to look out the window.

"Don't you turn your back on me as long as I'm talking to you!"

"Temper, temper," he tutted. "You have serious problems controlling your emotions, Kathleen."

"Perhaps, but it's still better than not having any!" she retorted.

"Could you yell more quietly?" He stepped away from the window. "The whole of Whitehall must have heard you…"

"You can't shut me up, John Mandrake!" She stamped her foot. "Let the whole of Whitehall know that my husband is an arseh-"

Nathaniel chose the only sensible option to silence her – something that he didn't regard as sensible later: in one quick step he crossed the space between them and plastered his lips to hers.

This indeed silenced her for about three-four seconds. Then…

He blinked, not knowing why he was propping himself against his desk and why his jaw was hurting like hell. His eyes met Kitty's – hers were sparkling with fury, and her hands were still clenched in fists. Nathaniel concluded that one of those fists must have caused his jaw to hurt.

He tentatively touched his jaw and winced.

"You deserved that," she said, much more quietly this time. "This is what you get if you try to touch me again."

Nathaniel shrugged. "I never touch a woman who doesn't desire me… and as you said 'I loathe you John Mandrake', I saw desire in your eyes."

"Desire to kill you!" she snapped.

"Mmm… perhaps. Even I can misread expressions…"

"If anything happens to Maggie, I will kill you," she said, walking to the door. "Even if that costs me a lifetime in the Tower."

As the door banged shut behind her, Nathaniel slapped the desk in frustration. I leave early in the morning to avoid her! I decide to overwork to forget her! And what does she do? She follows me here! I can't spend my whole life hiding from her! But what can I do then? WHAT?

The next thing he knew, he was hurrying down the corridor towards Jane Farrar's tiny office. As he burst into the her office, he found her leaning against her desk while Clive Jenkins, Nathaniel's earlier assistant whom he'd 'passed down' to Jane, was diligently typing the letter she was dictating.

"Jenkins, out!" the young Minister barked at the assistant, who – apparently frightened by Nathaniel's expression - hopped up from his seat, bowed slightly and hurried out of the office.

"John, what…?" Jane began, but couldn't finish her sentence as he practically swept her off her feet. Pencil cases, stacks of paper, several disks and even the fax machine fell off the table. For another half an hour neither of them bent down to pick them up.

o o o O O O o o o

A/N: next chapter: some Nat/Kitty 'romancing'. Kind of.

Review, please!