Hello everyone! Hope you're doing well! Here's a shiny new chapter to hopefully get you through your Tuesday! :D

It's close to 1:30 in the afternoon when Napoleon wakes up again. Gaby is still on top of him but she's not asleep; somehow she'd managed to grab her book again and has it half-propped against the couch while she traces lazy patterns in the fabric of Napoleon's sweater.

She blinks down at him when he opens his eyes and smiles, leaning forward and pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose. "Good afternoon," she greets quietly, reaching up to brush her thumb against his cheekbone lightly. "I thought you would sleep all day."

"Where's the fun in that?" Napoleon counters quietly, catching her hand and pressing his lips to her palm. He glances at the clock on the wall and does the mental calculations for how much time they have until the party that night. Seven hours; eight if they want to be fashionably late. Illya should be up and functional around 5:30-6 and it will give all of them time to get ready before they move out.

He shifts just slightly, pleasantly satisfied to discover his joints and muscles no longer felt like they were made of wood. His skin feels dirty and dry beneath the sweater though and he frowns to himself.

"I should go take a shower," he announces to no one in particular. He sits up, carefully folding Gaby in his arms as he does so and depositing her on the opposite end of the couch.

She gives him a cheeky smirk and shrugs one shoulder. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything but…"

Napoleon returns her smirk and shakes his head. "You are adorable," he tells her, leaning forward and catching her lips in a brief kiss before hauling himself off the couch and padding barefoot into the hall. "I'll save plenty of hot water for you," he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

The safe house was perfect in nearly every way except for the bathroom. There was only one which meant the three of them had to share it (not that Illya used it very often but still) and the water heater for the house was laughably small. Hot water would last for roughly seven minutes, ten if it was a good day, so showers were usually a quick, hasty affair.

Napoleon didn't mind it so much, the army had taught him the value of time management when it came to showering, but it would take well over an hour for the water to heat back up enough for the next person to shower comfortably. Gaby usually took a little bit longer in the shower so he cuts his own down to about four minutes in an effort to leave her with a little more hot water. He rinses the feeling of dirt and grime off his skin and washes his hair deftly, standing under the spray of hot water just long enough to get clean before shutting the shower off.

The bathroom is filled with a thick haze of steam, the mirror completely opaque from the heat. He steps out and grabs a towel, drying off quickly and wrapping the towel around his waist. He needs to shave but he'll have to wait until the mirror clears before he can accomplish that. The steam billows out into the hallway when he opens the door, filling the immediate vicinity with warm, moist air.

He walks down the hall to bedroom and rifles through the dresser, trading the towel for a clean shirt and a pair of slacks. Their clothes for the party that evening were tucked inside the closet, wrapped in plastic with the tags still on them. Napoleon had gone out the day before and picked out their attire, sticking with simple black suits for he and Illya and finding a gorgeous cobalt blue dress for Gaby. They needed her to stand out tonight and with that dress every eye in the room would be on her.

They had been invited to an elegant cocktail party held by Lorenzo Delcroix, an incredibly rich and powerful business tycoon. Delcroix was one of the richest in the country and made no effort to hide his wealth. He had a yacht, a private jet, a slew of expensive cars, and that was just for one house. Apparently he had properties all over the world, each estate equating to a couple million dollars apiece, and he still had money to spare. Normally he wouldn't be on their radar; they could care less about the money he had or what he did with it. What landed him at the top of a very short list was how he got his money.

There had been rumors and speculations for years but nothing definitive until recently. Apparently Delcroix's money came from a wide variety of smuggling and trafficking, everything from drugs, weapons, and humans. Drugs and weapons were pretty commonplace, frowned upon but not immediately top priority. It was when reports began coming in of him trafficking and selling women, for prostitution and labor and everything in between, that they were brought in.

Waverly had informed them of their mission and provided them with details about their mark about a month before. He was well aware of their particular talents and ultimately responsible for the missions he assigned them. Usually he saved only the most dangerous and difficult missions for them, knowing they could handle it without a question. In those missions, the phrase "dead or alive" was a suggestion at best. So long as they didn't cause any kind of international upheaval, Waverly helpfully turned a blind eye to most of what they did.

He provided them with a location and a tentative timeline and let them take care of the rest. How they met him and what happened from there weren't his concern; the only thing he told them was to make sure Delcroix was stopped. Waverly would take care of the other aspects of the assignment like setting them up in a safe house and acquiring any special equipment they needed in order to complete the mission; everything else was open to interpretation so long as they got it done.

It wasn't difficult to locate Delcroix once they arrived, all they had to do was seek out lavish and excess and there he was. They found him at an art auction four days earlier, flippantly blowing his money on a one-of-kind sculpture by an artist who seemed to have a noticeable affinity for carving things that were unapologetically phallic shaped. Fitting in a way but that was beside the point.

They released Gaby on him and the plan worked like a dream. Gaby had smiled sweetly and flirted with him all afternoon, complimenting him on his choice of art and his expensive clothing. She spun an elaborate story about how she and her brother (Napoleon) were on vacation, accompanied by their wealthy family's bodyguard (Illya) while they were away. Delcroix took an immediate liking to Gaby, as most people did, and invited she and her brother to be his special guests for a cocktail party he was throwing that Friday. Gaby accepted and just like that their invitations were set.

Their plan was two-fold: information and execution. Gaby could get information from him with very little trouble (Napoleon is almost certain that's the reason for the other pot with its mystery concoction on the stove) and once they had that on record, Delcroix would be disposed of quietly and efficiently. Between the three of them, it was easy enough to accomplish; they just had to be careful not to arouse the suspicions of any of Delcroix's numerous guards and assistants. If everything went according to plan, they would be in and out in a few hours. If it didn't...well, between the three of them they had enough teeth and magic to get out of just about anything.

More to come soon guys! :D