AN: Bloody hell, you guys! It's been three years! I can't believe I actually I did this to you. I'm fully aware I have, more than likely, one of you left reading this and I'm not even certain there's one of you left. I promise you I've tried to finish writing this damn chapter so many times but my mind would just turn to mush every time I tried! Anyway, here it is the definitely long awaited ball!

The ballroom is the biggest in the entire museum. Certain pieces, mainly sculptures, have been brought in for tonight only and they surround most of the perimeter of the room. Just like the rest of the museum, the ceilings are very high up and it allows for chandeliers to hang gracefully from it; light sparkles off the crystals that adorn them.

"They really go all out, don't they?", Steve says looking around the ballroom.

"Yes. It's beautiful." I spot the President-Director and wave at him. He seems kind of relieved to see me and waves back. He touches the arm of the woman he was talking to and points towards me. She nods and he starts making his way to us.

"Diana! So glad to see you!" He says opening his arms wide champagne glass dangling from his fingers.

"It's good to see you too, Monsieur Martínez. This is my partner, Steve Trevor. Steve, Jean-Luc Martínez, President-Director of the museum."

Steve shakes his hand. "Pleasure. I've heard good things about you, sir."

Monsieur Martínez waves a dismissive hand in front of him. "I'm sure Diana has exaggerated. Has she told you what I've asked of her? I know this is supposed to be a night off work but no one can persuade people like her. I hope you don't think we are overworking Diana here, Steve."

Steve chuckles. "No, not at all. I'm glad to hear the boss of all bosses appreciates her hard work. Besides, she loves being put to work."

I touch Steve's arm and lean into him a little. "Are they here yet?"

"The woman I was talking to," – he jerks his head discreetly towards her – "That's Pamela Davis-Didier. François Didier's wife."

I look over his shoulder and take her in. She must be in her early 60s. She's dressed just like you would expect her to be dressed; glittering black dress that reaches her ankles; black gloves that contrast the thick diamond bracelet around her wrist and I gather Pamela Davis-Didier is not an animal lover from the fur that covers her shoulders.

"Where's her husband and son?" I ask Monsieur Martínez.

He takes a sip of his champagne. "He's walking around the room bragging about his fighter pilot son. Said son, it's not enjoying it."

I share a look with Steve. I'm pretty sure we've got this.

"Why don't you introduce us? I've recruited Steve to help me. I hope you don't mind. He's an American and knows a thing or two about planes." I tell him. I hear Steve chuckle.

Monsieur Martínez shakes his head. "Not at all. Not at all. This man is a tough nut to crack. You'll need all the help you can get. Follow me."

I go to follow him but Steve squeezes my hand keeping me in place and whispers in my ear. "A thing or two?"

"I can't really tell him you were in the air force. His son might ask questions that are a bit too specific."

He nods. "I'll let that one slide this once."

I roll my eyes and walk towards our target.

"Pamela, I want you to meet one of our most impressive team members: Diana Prince, Directrice du département antiquités and her partner, Steve Trevor."

Her eyebrows shoot upwards. "Ms. Prince. Of course! Your reputation precedes you. I've heard wonders about you and your work. Lucky man, Mr. Trevor."

Steve extends his hand forward. "Steve, please. And yes, I'm a very lucky man."

She shakes it slowly. "Oh! You got yourself an American, Ms. Prince."

I laugh and shake her hand as well. "Yes and a charming one at that."

"Where are you from, dear?" she asks politely but inquisitively.

"I'm from a tiny town in north Oklahoma nobody has ever heard of."

Pamela Davis-Didier replies with an unimpressed 'Oh'. I imagine she was hoping Steve was from New York or California so she could name the long list of people she knows there. But she hides her disappointment fast enough.

"A charming man from a charming little town, I'm sure. New York on the other hand… We had to buy a house upstate. We couldn't handle the swarm of tourists anymore."

Swarm. Nothing positive ever came from using a word like swarm.

I dislike her.

"A respite for you, I bet. You look like the type of woman who has wonderful taste. I'm sure you like it there better than the city."

She smiles and touches my arm lightly. "Oh, I like to think that I do, Ms. Prince. But taste is subjective. So I guess you never truly know. And yes, François and I quite like it there. Whenever we go, our favourite thing is our morning walks in the woods. Something we don't quite get to do here in Paris."

"I left Oklahoma when I was a teenager and I haven't been back since, but that's something that I miss. Wonderful forests over there."

She points at Steve. "You know, my son Pierre is looking to explore his mother's country; he's a bit of an explorer that boy. Maybe you can tell him about your town. He's always looking to visit what's not on the tourist's must-sees. Speaking of which. Where are those two?"

While she looks around us, Steve, Monsieur Martínez and I share a quick look. We've barely said anything really.

"There they are! Mon amour, viens s'il te plait."

I look at Monsieur Martínez and discreetly jerk my head to the side. I need him to leave to not make it entirely obvious that I was sent to change this man's mind. To his credit, Monsieur Martínez takes no offense and barely nods his head in acknowledgment.

"Well, I leave you in good company, Pamela. I'll go make the rounds."

"Go. Don't worry. Get those checks!" She says with a high pitched laugh.

I have to resist the urge I get to roll my eyes.

"François. Pierre. Jean-Luc just introduced me to the famous Ms. Prince and her partner, Steve Trevor."

François Didier is a tall man with a well-trimmed beard and very thick white eyebrows that highlight his green eyes. His son, Pierre, looks very handsome in his tuxedo. He is as tall as his father and has the same green eyes, but overall looks more like his mother, although he has dark brown hair where hers is blonde (dyed, obviously but I'm assuming she used to be a natural blonde).

"Oh, yes! Madame Prince. Pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you too, Monsieur Trevor. May I say, Madame, the way you negotiated for those Swedish bows and arrows from the 360 B.C was enviable! To beat the MET on an auction like that? Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"

I smile and down play it. "Oh, I don't think the MET really wanted them that badly. Nothing compared to the merger of the two largest telecommunications companies in Europe. Now that's wonderful."

He raises one eyebrow. "What can I say? I made them realize that together they could have a fighting chance against the Chinese and in the process, I made myself the richest man in Europe."

Steve and I laugh politely even though, without having to look at him, know that he would rather turn around and leave. As would I.

"I don't know if you have noticed, Madame Prince, but my father is not very good at playing the humble card." Pierre tells me with humour, but you can tell his father's attitude makes him uncomfortable.

Mrs. Davis-Didier smacks her son gently on the arm. "Oh, sweetheart! Who needs humbleness when you have your father's success? There's nothing wrong with having some pride over your work."

The corner of his lips tilt upward. "Some being the operative word, Mom."

Monsieur Didier laughs. "The military has made my son a simple man. He doesn't enjoy the yachts and expensive bottles of champagne as much as he used to."

"You're in the military?", Steve asks curiously.

Pierre exhales a 'yes', almost as if preparing himself for another round of the same questions people have been asking him tonight.

"Air Force. Combat pilot." He says, anticipating the questions.

"Oh, so you've definitely flown in a Dassault Rafale. The new models have had OSF and IRST installed, right?"

Pierre's eyebrows shoot upwards and a smile appears on his face. "You know about planes?"

Steve tilts his head left and right. "A thing or two."

Again, I have to supress the need to roll my eyes.

"Well, yes. They have. I'm not at liberty to discuss any more than that. Sorry. It's classified."

Steve nods. "Of course. Can we talk about the 9+ G-force you experience when you reach maximum speed?"

Pierre laughs. "Nothing like it. I bet I could give the Flash a run for his money on that plane."

"There's an idea!" I say knowing Barry is a sucker for a race.

Pierre couldn't beat him.

"Is it capable of supercruise?"

"Oh, yes. Mach 1.4. Actually, I can tell you about this one time where I had to…"

It seemed like Pierre was about to regale us with a wonderful story but he stopped talking quite abruptly.

"I, uh, I had to – "

He's looking over Steve's shoulder quite perplexed. We all look at him. Waiting.

Pierre seems to notice his sudden stop and shakes himself. "I'm sorry. It's just… She's beautiful."

Steve and I immediately turn our heads and see, none other, than Barbara Ann walking into the ballroom looking, in fact, absolutely beautiful in a dark cobalt blue sash dress that has fabric coming down from her shoulder that wraps around her waist with a gap on the right side that exposes a bit of her waist, but the real eye-pulling detail is the slit on her dress that comes up all the way up to her left midthigh.

I stare at her because without her thick-framed glasses, the usual ponytail, pants and t-shirt she usually wears, I almost can't believe that that woman, striding in confidently in black heels that snake up her ankles, is my Barbara Ann.

I turn to Pierre having had an idea. "Would you like me to introduce you?"

Pierre's eyes widen a little. "You know her?"

"She's my best friend."

I turn completely and wave at Barbara Ann trying to catch her eye. I look at Steve and he gives me a look. I know what he is thinking. Barbara Ann will absolutely hate this, but I also told her about what Monsieur Martínez asked me to do tonight, so hopefully she'll play along.

Barbara Ann eventually catches my eye and I wave at her to come.

"Di, you look gorgeous as always. Trevy…" She gives Steve the up down. "I'm sure you tried your best."

We all laugh.

"So nice to me as always. Well, you look beautiful." He says sincerely.

Barbara Ann smiles at him and turns to the unknown people in front of her. "He's not usually this nice to me."

Steve scoffs. "Me?!"

I grab Steve's hand and give it a squeeze to try and prevent him from losing focus on the mission.

"These two tease each other all day long. They claim is how they show their love to one another." I say with faux exasperation. "May I introduce you to one of the museum's most valuable assets: Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva. Barbara Ann, these are François Didier, his lovely wife Pamela and their son, who is a fighter pilot in the air force, Pierre."

There's a slight pause before Barbara Ann says anything that tells me she remembers the names and realizes we're in the middle of something important.

"Pleasure to meet you." She shakes Monsieur Didier's hand, then his wife's and when she gets to Pierre, she adds,

"Fighter pilot? I'm quite crazy about speed. I bet it must be absolutely thrilling to be in command of such fast aircrafts."

Pierre gives her a quite disarming smile. "If I were allowed to share that experience with civilians, it would be my absolute honour to take you for a lap or two around the base."

Barbara Ann gets a twinkle in her eye. "Pity it's not allowed."

While looking at them, I get the sensation that I'm intruding on a private moment somehow. I'm not completely sure if what I'm seeing is really good acting skills from Barbara Ann or genuine attraction. I'll have to ask her later.

"I must say I was surprised when we got the news you had decided to work for the museum. I was under the impression that you liked to move around." Mrs. Davis-Didier says cutting the moment short having absolutely noticed the interaction between Barbara Ann and her son.

Barbara Ann lets go of Pierre's hand and looks at Mrs. Davis-Didier. "Yes, but you see, Diana can be very persuasive. Besides, my father thinks the Louvre is beneath the British museum, so I thought I'd spite him."

I shake my head and roll my eyes with a smile. Everything Barbara Ann does somehow always manages to upset her father – not by chance, obviously.

Monsieur Didier stands up straighter and looks offended at the fact that someone had the gall to suggest any museum could be better than the Louvre.

"Forgive my ignorance, Dr. Minerva but I remember reading you belonged to an aristocratic English family, but I don't recall any by the name Minerva."

He says 'English' with barely contained hatred. Oh, the English and French rivalry.

"Oh, you wouldn't have. I took my mother's name. My father's Robert Cavendish."

In another scenario, I would've laughed at the way both of their eyes got big and round and how their mouths' formed an 'o'. According to what Barbara Ann has told me, Robert Cavendish has a bloodhound-like nose when it comes to investment. He can read about a company and know, immediately, if it's worth investing in. He inherited properties, art and titles, but the Cavendish fortune grew immensely because of him. Robert Cavendish may not be the richest man in Europe at the moment, but he could very well displace Monsieur Didier with the next investment he decides to make.

"Mais oui! Bien sûr! I haven't had the pleasure." Didier says having completely changed his attitude.

"Lucky you." Barbara Ann says leaning in a bit.

Mrs. Davis-Didier touches Pierre's shoulder and also leans in a bit. "You have. Haven't you, sweetheart?"

Pierre drops his chin and nods, completely understanding the game his parents are trying to make him play.

"Yes, Mom." – He looks up at Barbara Ann – "I met him maybe… two years ago? A friend of mine is the son of Mr. Cavendish's art appraiser. He's uh - a very reserved man."

Barbara Ann smiles. "Incredibly unpleasant, you mean?"

Pierre chuckles. "So you take after your mother then?"

Oh-kay. They're flirting with each other like they're alone. But, even though I'm glad Barbara Ann is having fun tonight, it doesn't change the fact that we're severely straying from the mission.

"Oh, whether Barbara Ann likes it or not, there's plenty she's inherited from her father. She has very good instincts for investments as well."

Barbara Ann turns to look at me and, for a second, I can see she forgets what we're actually doing here, since there's this slightly murderous look she gives me, but I lift my eyebrow discreetly and that look changes to one of understanding.

"Yes, I guess one could question his methods all day long, but Father is nothing but effective. I did learn to read the market, so every now and then I make investments here and there. Nothing as impressive as Father's of course, but I've yet to make a wrong judgement."

François Didier shakes his index finger in Barbara Ann's direction. "Don't I say that all the time, Pierre? Ruthlessness; it might not be pretty but it is effective. Glad to know your father and I have that in common, Dr. Minerva. Even if we disagree where the best museum in the world is, ha!"

The three of us fake laugh and Pierre shakes his head with a forced smile.

"Yes, you do always say that, Dad."

Barbara Ann gives Pierre a quick look. They seem to have a lot in common- at least in terms of difficult fathers- and they've only interacted for 5 minutes!

She chuckles. "Well, let me tell you Monsieur Didier that the Louvre just fell even more on my father's list. Especially after he heard that some members of the board, I'm sure you're not one of them, refuse to have a ball for general audiences."

I waiter walks by us and Barbara Ann takes a glass of champagne.

"He said and I'm paraphrasing a bit here: 'Those blithering idiots. The people are the ones who give value to the museum. Not the art. If not why have a museum at all? Just have auction after auction and there's that. Millions in an afternoon. The people need to feel valued. If they don't, why spend their hard earned money on a ticket?' Or something along those lines anyway. I tend to tune out when my father goes on one of his rants."

She takes a sip and smiles disarmingly. Pierre scratches his top lip in a weak attempt to control the smile that pulls at his lips.

Oh, you've done it!, I think. There's absolutely no way Didier will keep stopping the ball from happening. No chance. Zero. Nada.

"And that's the kind of thing your father says on the phone? I can't even imagine what he would say if he was standing face to face with them." Steve adds perfectly to bring the point home.

"Oh, Trevy. You have no idea. It is actually quite entertaining to witness if you're not on the receiving end of his screams." Barbara Ann adds with a chuckle.

Pierre clears his throat a little louder than normal.

"Aren't you glad, dad you're not one of them?" Pierre pads his father's shoulder and gives it a little shake; his smile impossible to hide.

Mrs. Didier looks like a tomato while Mr. Didier doesn't quite know how to respond to any of us. He eventually manages to sputter,

"I'm sure several board members will eventually change their minds, Pierre. After all, all this is for the good of the museum, non?"

I point at Mr. Didier, "That's exactly right, monsieur. If not for the people this wonderful place would have no purpose. Maybe you can try once again with those reluctant board members who refuse to have this exquisite exhibition shown to the public. Maybe they'll see reason."

Mrs. Didier manages to compose herself. "Yes, darling. Have a chat with them. You can always make people see reason."

Mr. Didier nods. "Of course, I'll try… once again."

He looks somewhere over our shoulders looking for an escape and he finds one.

"Oh, there's Docteur Llodra! Let's go say hello, mon amour. Ms. Prince, Dr. Minerva and Mr. Trevor, it's been a pleasure making your acquaintance."

He shakes each of our hands. His wife follows his lead.

"It's been a pleasure." She says in a bit of a rush.

"Honour's been all ours." Barbara Ann says a little too enthusiastically.

They practically run away from us.

We try to hold our laughter in since Pierre hasn't left yet.

He looks at us for a moment and, as if he couldn't quite control himself anymore, he bursts out laughing.

Barbara Ann is the first to break and Steve and I follow suit.

"Oh, you three had a plan all along, didn't you?" Pierre asks in between explosions of laughter.

I nod, hand on my belly, trying to contain the laughter. "The plan was for me to persuade them otherwise but Barbara Ann, you really outdid yourself there!"

Barbara Ann looks upward and wipes the tears from her eyes carefully as to not ruin her make up.

"What can I say? I always look to impress."

Pierre exhales having composed himself. "Well, you definitely did. Was it true though? What you said about your father?"

She shrugs a little. "Some things, yes. Others I filled in the blanks."

Pierre shakes his head. "I would love to hear more about how many powerful men you have been able to bend to your will."

Barbara Ann lifts her eyebrow. "Get me a drink and I'll tell you all about it."

"Gladly." Pierre offer his arm and Barbara Ann takes it. He makes a pause and looks at Steve and I. "Thank you for putting my parents in their place. I love them but it was long overdue."

Steve snakes an arm around my waist. "We're kind of in the business of doing that."

Pierre smiles and before they walk away, Barbara Ann and I share a look.

Have fun, I convey to her.

Oh I will, she responds with a lift of her perfectly manicured eyebrow.

AN: Ok, was it worth the wait? I've no idea at this point. The ball's not over. I wrote a big chunk of the next chapter years ago. I won't promise anything this time. Jesus...