Mutt and Molly sat together on the plane. Isay was one seat up from them in the aisle. He had a way of turning his head and nonchalantly glancing over his shoulder at them. Mutt was relieved though, mostly because it gave him time to talk to Molly.

The stop at her apartment had only left him five minutes to grab everything he thought he'd need. He hated having to choose between extra bullets, underwear and books. In the end he decided the books took precedent.

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket as well as a pencil.

"What are you doing?" Molly asked, leaning over to spy what he was scrawling on the paper.

"Keep your voice down, will ya?" he whispered.

She raised an eyebrow in a warning glance.

He smiled good-naturedly and pulled down the tray from the back of the seat in front of him. "Look," he said, keeping his voice low, "this is all we know about the Bishop's Spear."

Molly shifted over and placed her elbow on the arm rest, pushing her hair back so she could see completely the piece of paper.

"When Christ died on the cross, apparently a Roman soldier pierced his side to see if he was really dead," Mutt began, jotting down some words about the tale.

"And then blood and water came out," Molly finished. When Mutt looked over, surprised she answered simply, "Sunday School. My father was Irish Catholic."

"Good, you must know all about this then," he said in a mildly sarcastic voice.

Molly rolled her eyes, "Continue."

"Anyway the spear wasn't mentioned again until much later. Antoninus mentioned it in his travels, but three main spear heads were mentioned around the Middle Ages. The first was called the Vatican Lance, kept at the Basilica of Mount Zion, the Echmiadzin Lance and the Vienna Lance," Mutt said.

Molly reach forward, pulling the travel brochure out the of pocket in front of her. Opening it up to the map of the world, she briefly plotted out the places he had mentioned. "Well," she sighed, "none of these places are even close to Istanbul. No wonder you haven't found it."

Molly had a very subtle way of making him feel like a jackass. "If you'd be patient then I'd be able to explain to you what I was doing there."

"Okay, go ahead."

"When I was in Rome a few months ago-"

"I thought you said you were going to Poland," Molly interjected.

Mutt decided to ignore her. "- I came across some letters at the Vatican from Saint Helen to her husband in Constantinople."

Molly nodded her head. "Yeah she was popular with religious relics, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she is famous for finding the true cross," he noted, running a hand through his hair. "Anyway in the letters she mentions that all the spears currently known to mankind are fakes. She expressly mentions in one of the letters that when she was in Israel she came across a small lance head, one called the Bishop's Spear."

He recalled the small sketch of the spear head St. Helen had roughed in to one of her letters. He tried to draw the weapon from memory, showing Molly how small and beat up it looked... like something that had been well used.

"It was called the Bishop's Spear because apparently the Roman Soldier who stabbed him entrusted the spear head to Saint Paul-"

"The first Bishop of Rome," Molly said, taking the paper from the tray and holding it closer to the light. She was intrigued by the sketch of the spear head. "That definitely looks Roman," she murmured, "it has good craftsmanship."

Mutt nodded, agreeing with her.

"But how did it get all the way to Israel?" she asked.

Mutt shrugged. "My guess is it was given to a trusted friend after he died. Israel also would have been a good place to keep the spear head. It was pretty far from strong pagan practitioners and most early Christians were fine to hold their services in synagogues... it would have been safe for them to keep it hidden there."

"So Saint Helen finds the Bishop's Spear and then what?"

"She sends it to him," Mutt answered.

Molly smiled, "So you were digging in the right place."

"Well, that's what we originally thought," Mutt said. "But Adib knew we were wrong."

"Adib?"

"The man I was at the diner with."

"Oh," Molly said easily.

Their conversation was put on hold while the plane began to race down the runway, ready to take off. As it flew into the air, the wind lifting the metal contraption shakily off the ground. Molly's face blanched and she gripped onto the arm rest, white-knuckled.

"Relax, would ya?" Mutt said teasingly, covering her hand with his own in an attempt to calm her.

"I hate flying," she muttered, "and I just remembered I forgot to call the diner and tell them I'm going to be out of the country."

"Ah hell, don't worry about it," he said, "I didn't like how that manager was speaking to you anyway."

"It's just a job," she murmured. "Like this was supposed to be. Now look at me."

"You can't honestly tell me that you'd rather be serving food to a bunch of hormonal teens?" Mutt said, smiling.

"I think I do that on a regular basis with you," she said, laughing lightly. She let go of his hand and re-examined the map set out before them. "Why are we flying to Rome then, if all the clues point toward Istanbul?"

"Because I think she may have given it to a close relative, or something. The spear was popular amongst alchemists, maybe she knew one."

"Alchemists? That's one part of the story I didn't know," Molly said, looking from the map toward him."

"Something yon don't know? Should I take a picture?" he said in jest.

Molly's eyes suddenly glazed over. "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly becoming serious.

"Nothing... maybe. Didn't the men who came to see us yesterday say something about alchemists?" she questioned. "I'm probably wrong, right? I mean these two things are so far removed from one another that they can't possibly be connected."

Mutt didn't know what to say. "Anything is possible, Moll. In this business..."

Isay turned around and glowered at them for the thousandth time. The plane dipped suddenly as it hit a patch of rough air. Molly grabbed Mutt's hand tightly again, pressing her head into her seat.

"I hate this," she said through clenched teeth.

Mutt's gut lurched to, but it wasn't because of the shaking plane. He had a funny feeling that this thing was a hell of a lot bigger than just them and the communists.

Molly couldn't help but sigh as she walked along the cobbled streets of Rome at night. Despite the fact that her irresponsible boss and Russian thug were her companions the city was so beautiful she couldn't help but admire it. Mutt was taking little time to appreciate her surroundings. Every time she stopped to look at something he would pull her along. It was starting to annoy her.

"Can't we just read what this plaque says?" she questioned, exasperated.

"No," he and Isay said in unison.

"The sooner we can find these letters, the sooner we can leave," Mutt said, his tone low.

"The sooner we can...? Can't we just stay for an extra day or something?" she tried.

"No," the two said in unison.

Molly gritted her teeth. "This isn't a vacation," Mutt admonished, grabbing her wrist so she was walking in tandem with his long stride.

"Well, I just don't understand why we can't make the best of a bad situation," she muttered.

"Listen, when we get back I'll give you a month of paid vacation and you can go wherever the hell you want," Mutt said, trying to end the argument.

"Ha! You couldn't last a week without me!" she countered.

That made him stop. "Are you kidding me?"

"We have to-" Isay began.

"Shut up!" Molly and Mutt yelled at him.

"It's true!" she said, sticking her index finger to his chest. "Besides teaching your classes, proof-reading your articles and taking messages I cook for you, tie your ties, fill out your cheques and you even made me break up with Martha Baker!"

"Did I make you break up with Martha?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"How'd she take it?" he questioned, in good-humour.

"Not well!"

"Oh," he said, sighing lightly and running a hand through his hair. Without warning he put a finger under her chin and dipped his head, kissing her softly on the lips. She could feel her skin flush suddenly, straight to her toes. "I really don't know what I would do without you," he whispered, as he pulled away from her, planting a kiss on her forehead for good measure.

Speechless, Molly stood in the middle of the street, her eyes wider than saucers.

Mutt laughed, putting an arm around her shoulders and strolling down the street. "You know what? Rome really is beautiful this time of year."

Molly didn't say anything. She was really past forming words.

"Wanna know something else?" Mutt added, hypothetically. "I'm going to make it a point to kiss you more often. It makes you so much more agreeable."

Isay laughed. Molly's heart fluttered.

I'm sorry its taken so long for me to update. I've been very busy with school and such. Hopefully you are enjoying this so far... especially the little kiss. Had to give you guys something for being so patient with me!

All the best,

Briar