Note: I wanted to do a fic of Luke and Giselle undercover to kill a target. My fave AU for them is fake married (they're best friends, they could pull it off, plus then they get over themselves and just let themselves love each other pls), so I used that as their cover. Also includes a bit of veiled real flirting. Enjoy!

They are glamorous, the couple in the corner. Michael has been glancing over them every once in a while. They got there just after he had. The man –who looks naggingly familiar– had pulled out the chair for his companion, and cooed to her in French before sitting across from her. She'd smiled at him coyly, holding her hand to her cheek as if to show off the rings on her finger, but then a waiter stepped between their tables and Michael was forced to stop being nosy. For the time being.

He's in Paris on business. Lily Gray wants some works that are for sale by a small gallery here, but she had an auction to go to, and sent him in her place. It was very kind of her; she paid for everything. He didn't need to worry about his flights or his hotel or even his food and spending money. It was all taken care of. He's got one of the best bosses ever for sure. But… something's… not right. He saw some weird charts and lists about a week ago. And he swears that at least three of the names on that list are dead. Murdered. She came in before he could get a better look, and the next thing he knows, she's sending him to Paris.

The woman says something to the man, and he snorts, drawing more laughter out of both of them. He wonders, briefly, how they met. Was it at a cafe, like this one? Was it in school? Or was it just a chance encounter on the street? Whatever it was, they are very close now. He can see it in the way they look at each other, and how the man keeps touching the woman's hand, and brushing her hair from her face, while she smiles and laughs at almost everything he says. Michael's been hoping for a relationship like that, but nothing's worked out. Yet. He hopes to call up Maria from the bar as soon as he gets back. He could use the bonus he saved on the trip to take her out to dinner. And they can be like the couple a few tables away.

About an hour goes by. Michael enjoys his pastry and the warm weather. The couple enjoys each other's company. At one point, the man tries to feed her some of his lunch, and she humors him. It must be good, because after that she continues to steal bites from his plate. She glances his way, and he looks down after a second. It's odd. She looks… familiar. As does the man, whose eyes burn through him for a moment before he looks back at his wife. He can't put his finger on it.

He has to get to a meeting, so he pays his check and leaves the cafe and the couple behind. It's a busy day in Paris, what with the lovely weather. The streets are filled with locals and tourists alike, and for a moment Michael feels like he's back in New York. But the sights and sounds and smells are too different, and he's snapped out of those thoughts . A good thing, too, as he catches himself just before running into the back of someone watching a street performance.

Michael huffs. That's the way he needs to go, of course. And the crowd is blocking the street. He peeks both ways, trying to find a way around, to no avail. He sighs. He'll have to head back the way he came and find another street over. It must be his lucky day, because he spots an alleyway that should lead him around to the next street. He hurries down it before someone moves in to block it.

It's a surprisingly long and winding alley, though he should have expected much from such an old city. It's quiet and calm and he takes the time to stroll and enjoy it. He hears footsteps and soft voices behind him. He's not the only one to have this idea, then. He finds a perpendicular alley that will lead him up in the same direction as the large road, and turns down that instead.

The voices behind him follow. He thinks nothing of it.

Until something wraps around his neck tight enough to keep him from breathing normally. He drops to his knees, trying to pull away from his attacker, but whoever it is holds him fast. He hears the scuff of shoes against stone, and someone steps into his line of sight. They kneel to meet his eyes and Michael chokes. It's the man from the cafe. Then… is his wife the one strangling him?

The familiarity of the man is more than simply nagging at Michael. Especially when he smirks at him. And when he speaks… there's no trace of an accent.

"Hello, Michael," He croons, the same way he did at the woman not too long ago. "Do you recognize me?"

Michael nods. He doesn't even try to speak. The man grins wider, glancing at the woman over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I thought you might. I saw you watching Giselle and I while we ate."

Giselle? Where has he heard that name? It finally hits him. This man knows his name. Knows him. Why would he? Who is he? The man leans a bit closer. There's something… eerie about him, about the way he's looking at Michael. Almost like he's… prey.

The man sighs and reaches in to straighten Michael's tie. "See, here's the thing, Michael. You saw something you really weren't supposed to. Snooping around…" He purses his lips, shakes his head. "It's not good for your health."

"Wait," Michael finally chokes out. "It can't… Lily–" Whatever is around his neck tightens, and he can barely breathe at all. The papers on Lily's desk. The names… did she… did this man kill them? Is that what this trip is really about? The man tsks and leans forward.

"There we go. Now you get it." He smiles. It's unnerving and Michael struggles again against the woman but all it does it cause her weapon to dig even deeper into his neck. "You know, Michael… I'm kind of hurt that you don't remember me. I mean, I'm pretty memorable." He looks at the woman again. "Right, Giselle?"

"Oh, I think so," she breathes in accented English right by his ear. "I'd never forget someone like you... Luke."

Luke? He's heard that name before… he's… no. He remembers now. He's seen him at Lily's parties and in frames in her office. He saw the other one more than Luke but… He remembers. Luke. Lily's son.

Luke must see the recognition in his eyes, as his smile widens and his expression becomes smug. "Now you really get it. This whole… business trip" –he waves a hand, gesturing out to the city– "was just a ruse to get you far enough away from her to avoid suspicion. So gullible. Did you ever wonder why she sent you here, when she normally comes on her own?"

Michael's face grows warm, and not just from exertion. Luke chuckles and stands again. "Sorry, Michael. You always were a hard worker. Mother will really miss you."

There's a pause, and Michael tries to cough out a plea. The weapon tightens and pain spreads across his neck. He can't breathe. He struggles harder against Giselle, but it doesn't last and he feels the strength leaving him as his vision fades. He thinks of home and of Maria, but his last thought is simply 'No!' before everything goes black.

Giselle gasps as she finally releases Michael and lets him fall to the ground. Luke sees her shaking and rests a hand on the back of her neck.

"You okay?"

She nods, breathing heavy. It takes so much work to kill with a garrotte, especially when the target is bigger than the killer. Giselle is strong, but it's not always strong enough. Her arms will ache tonight, as they usually do.

"Oui. I'm fine."

Luke nods and helps her to her feet. He doesn't mind helping her after she pushes herself. She's fiercely independent, and it always feels good for her to need him or his help. He moves the body, leaning it against the wall as Giselle packed her garrotte in a plastic bag and hid it in her purse. When he turns back to her, she hands him a burner phone, and he grins in thanks. He dials a number and drapes an arm around Giselle's shoulders, pulling her to follow him back the way to the other alley and down the other way.

"Mark? Tell mother it's done. We'll be on a plane tomorrow morning. Yeah. See you soon, little brother."

Luke hands the phone back to Giselle, and she trashes the sim card when they're two blocks away, and the phone when they're five away. They have more. He pulls Giselle closer against him and presses a kiss to her hair. He loves keeping up this charade.

"You did well back there, Giselle. Exceeding my expectations, as always."

She smiles up at him. "Oui? Will I get a reward for my hard work? I did actually kill him, after all…"

Luke hums, looking out onto the street and thinking it over. "Sure… how about… a nice dinner, and afterwards we'll go to the ballet. Sound fair?"

"Sounds very fair," she purrs, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Mon amour."

Tomorrow they'll be on their way home and by tomorrow night the "married" ruse will be dropped. But they can still use it to have some fun. While they get ready for dinner, they see a report on the local news about the body in the alleyway, and they share a look of pride. They really do deserve this.