Fiona and Chloe walked over to a café near the hospital while they waited for Steven to finish an appointment. "I know you're with the SSS," Fiona said. The noise of traffic made it unlikely that they would be overheard. In any event, it would not be out of the ordinary for conversation.

"Well, I told Steven you're a spy the first night you went out for drinks," Chloe said. "He told me he already knew."

"So, what, is this supposed to be our bonding moment?" Fiona said. "If I say you're a spy, and you say you think I'm a spy, do you think that means we just open up to each other?"

"It does happen," Chloe said. "Or so I'm told. It makes sense, if you think about it. Spies on the same side aren't supposed to talk to each other unless their mission requires it, never mind fraternize'. If they happen to meet someone in the same line of work, why not use the chance to shoot the breeze?"

"Fine, you talked me into not walking away," Fiona said. They went into the café. A television was on. It was showing one of Steven's later movies, a drama about the Frigian Civil War. Steven had a relatively limited part as a mad Badarian who recruited the impressionable protagonist to the Westalis-backed separatists. Several older patrons chuckled and commented in approval as he gave a rambling speech on the superiority of those who spoke the shared speech of Westalis, Ostania and their neighbors.

"There is a reason Ostanians can't tell a Badarian accent from Hugarian," Chloe said. "All the Hugarian instructors learn Badaro-Frigian in Badarland."

"They came up with that name for the Speech a century and a half ago, because they needed one to sell the Free Lands on the Confederation," Fiona said. "It was as good as any. Not better. Why do you want to talk?" Chloe led the way onto a patio area.

"Come on, you know what women really talk about," the other woman said as they sat down. "How was it? Hm? How was he? Is he good for you?" She grinned.

"A good woman doesn't talk about that," Fiona said.

"Hey, we aren't all the same," Chloe said. "Most women like to talk, at the right time. I bet Yor Forger talks about Loid with the city hall ladies. How about this? Was he what you expected?"

"I expected enjoyable lovemaking from a capable partner," Fiona said coolly. "I was not disappointed."

The other woman smiled. "See? You really can talk dirty, girl." She immediately made a reconciliatory gesture. "Anyway, real girl talk isn't really about him. Like, if it's an off night, do you fake it for your guy, or just quit?"

"Neither," Fiona said. "Ever."

Chloe considered that. "That's not actually normal, for a woman," she said. "But I get it. You're goal-oriented. Direct. You don't mind saying what you want. What you gotta think about is that you're the one making up the difference." She rested her chin on folded hands. "Now what about that chair? It could complicate things. Still, it could be fun, too."

"We have a bed," Fiona said.

"That's all well and good," Chloe said. "But you might not always want to do the same thing. You might not always have time. Speaking of, are you for clothes off, or…?"

Fiona literally sniffed. "Physical love between a man and his bride is meant to be stately and dignified," she said. "A strong man does not beg and scratch like a dog for what is already his. Steven waited for me to prepare myself for him."

Chloe grinned wider. "Again, it's fine if that's your thing," she said. "For most people, it's about balance. Think about the Forgers. You think they never go straight from the theater to the back of their car? Or run in the door and end up on the couch because they don't get to the bed?"

"I don't know why you keep mentioning Loid Forger," Fiona said.

Chloe ignored her. "Or how about the kitchen?" she said. "Oh, yeah, that's totally you. Think about it, working together, the smells, the tastes, the touching hands, brushing past each other in that little space. I bet it works for Loid and Yor. Do you think he'd throw her on the counter and push up her skirt? Or would she just pull him down and pop it out?"

Fiona slapped Chloe backhanded. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said.

Chloe only smiled again. "I talked to that man I told you about, about you," she said. "He thinks you're just a neurotic in love with Loid Forger. We do run into people like that. Sometimes we even try to work with them. It usually doesn't last, though. Then I told him about someone we have a file on. We call her the Ice Queen. We've never been sure who she really works for, if she works for anybody. All we know is that when it comes to skills, she's the real deal. She can do strongarm, she can do stealth, she can get in and out like a ghost. If she's got a weakness, it's that somebody gave her the idea she can do honeytrap duty."

Her smile became a wicked smirk. "They say she knows what to do. She practically does it like a man," she said. "She can make that work for the ones it works for. But when it comes to the follow-up, well, it's not hard to find people who talk. Once, we even found one who said he was her special instructor."

"I'm leaving now," Fiona said.

"Wait," Chloe said. "Listen to me, because if you are who we think you are, sometimes, you need things spelled out. Donovan Desmond said that it didn't matter what he thought about another war. He expected you to understand what he meant. It's not just that he isn't trying to return to power. He knows how another war will end. Ostania will lose." Then she rose and left.

At the hospital, Dr. Winchell looked at a drawing. It showed a man who looked very much like Loid Forger, next to what just might have been a much younger Fiona Frost, framed in a square. Kase looked over the shoulder of the patient who had drawn it. "Pictures," Rolf said.

"I've seen enough," the captain said. "Search Fiona Frost's apartment."