They'd been in the air for hours. Now, on the last leg of the flight to Paris, Kate and Mercedes are finalizing plans to meet with Monsieur Bullitt, the American ambassador to France. With any luck, he could be persuaded to lighten up on certain trade restrictions, allowing both women to greatly expand their import/export potential.

"I believe he'll be amenable. As I said, I've not met him directly but I've heard some things. All we have to do is capitalize on that," Mercedes says, staring at the tops of the clouds through the window next to her seat. 

"It's not too far fetched to believe he'd agree to do what he's already doing, but on a grander scale. After all, we're going to make him rich," she says, shrugging. 

"But even if he needs persuading, I mean, come on. Surely you and I can get him interested in working with us," Mercedes smiles, a deviant twinkle in her eye.

Kate leaned back in her chair, surreptitiously sliding her hand up Mercedes' forearm before placing both above her head and stretching.

"So what've you heard? What's our "in" with him?

Although the tone in your voice suggests that this won't be simple blackmail. Think he'll fall for a pretty face? Or two? If so... I've got some ideas there."

Mercedes turns her head to see Kate's face. Even in profile, she believes it's the most beautiful she's ever seen. 

​​​​​​'Reliable sources tell me he's already dabbled in questionable import/export deals. Further intel claims he's got a roving eye...so yes, I do believe this gentleman to be an optimal target. I've got no solid proof of indiscretions, but...'

Looking at Kate again...shit, what man wouldn't succumb to her? 

'He's ours if we want him.'

Kate raises an eyebrow and grins as she catches the emphasis of a certain word.

"Ours in what sense... like... ours... at the same time? Mercedes Kompressor... you scandalous temptress."

For one paralyzing moment, Mercedes thinks through any ensuing scenario. She said she could do this. Swore she could do this. But was it true? Could she watch Kate with another? 

Clamping down hard on that train of thought, she knew she could. This was business. Sex was part of their business. Kate didn't give one shit about this man, and neither did she. They'd never even met him.

'The more you give, the more you get, right? I mean...if he's got a wife and kids, we could ruin him, if we're physically willing.'

Mercedes is adamant in her words but she can't meet Kate's eye, so she stares out the window at the cloudy eternity beyond it. Where was that fucking stewardess? She needed another drink.

"I mean, menage a trois IS in French..."

Kate leans back in her seat, reflecting.

"... although the French may be more willing to forgive something like that. I mean, if they came up with the phrase for it..."

Kate's voice becomes an excited murmur as she crosses her legs and leans toward Mercedes..

"... I mean, if it comes out that he fucked us both, I'm sure he would be raked over the coals by some people. Then get an award in a backroom from his government buddies. I think we need something a bit more damning, at least with the French. So we lure him in with sex. Get him really drunk or high or whatever. Fuck his brains out so he sleeps like a baby. Then, when he wakes up, one of us will be covered in blood next to him in bed.... fake blood, dear, don't worry. The other one of us is standing there with Noto or someone and takes a couple pictures. Noto gives the guy a big speech about how one of his whores is dead and this guy is going to do whatever he says or else the pictures go public."

Kate leans back.

"And then he does whatever we say. Forever. And we'll make sure to keep him rich. What do you think? Too complicated? Or just right?"

Mercedes grins at Kate. 

"Oh, that's perfect. You're absolutely right on target, as usual.

"I'm in on this job one hundred percent. But I'd like to make this trip memorable, and not just for monetary reasons..."

Looking at Kate with sultry eyes, Mercedes murmurs.

"Let's get weird. Have you ever eaten a snail?"

Kate, who had her belt half unbuckled and was mentally halfway to the bathroom when Mercedes said "Let's get weird", disappointingly settled back into her seat.

"Uhhhh- no. No snails. Why? Are snails weird?"

One side of Mercedes' mouth lifts as she follows Kate's line of thinking. Something to take into consideration before they landed...but the rest of this plan needed hashing out.

"Are the others already in town? Could they secure his schedule so that we can nail down the best time and place? And I like the idea of alcohol because it's easy, but it's not 100% reliable, so getting our hands on something stronger is a good idea. Something to add to the grocery list when shopping for fake blood," she says, laughing.

"Wait... what about the snails? Don't leave me hanging here? But yea, I agree with you. We might be able to get him drunk enough- but we can slip him something else, too, if needed. Once we've landed, if you want to find the right mix for a knockout sleep that preserves his memory, I'll handle his schedule. "

"And it might have to be real blood. Not necessarily human. I don't know where to get fake blood- but I'm sure we can find a butcher shop. Spin a tale about us needing it for a theater production or something. Guess we just need to figure out which one of us is playing dead, eh?"

"As disgusting as it sounds, I suppose I can get covered in cow's blood. It would be a shame to get caught because we tried to pass off some ketchup.

"But yeah, they eat snails here. Supposed to be some sort of delicacy. Can you imagine? I mean, they're probably cooked and all but...snails!"

Kate raises an eyebrow.

"Well, okay, if you wanna volunteer for the animal blood. I was planning on trying to bribe you or have some sort of competition but- nope. Nope. You already volunteered. I accept your volunteering."

She quickly changes the subject.

"Yep, it's settled. I'll buy you some snails. So tell me about this Bullitt guy. What does he look like? Please tell me he's not a fat old man..."

Mercedes sighs.

"Bald. Looks like he took a load of shotgun pellets to the face," she says, looking down at her watch and turning to Kate.

"We've got about thirty minutes before we land. The cow's blood is gonna cost you," she says, standing up and brushing her legs against Kate's as she moves toward the aisle. A totally unnecessary move, since they were seated in first class and there was plenty of room.

"Think two of us can fit in that tiny little bathroom?"

Kate visibly deflates at Mercedes' description. Maybe she was just lying because she didn't want to get Kate excited. Not that Kate wasn't committed to Mercedes... but if you were going to do something like this, why not at least have some aesthetic appreciation? Hopefully she was teasing. As Mercedes stood up, Kate traces a finger along her leg and stands to follow.

The two women remain in the bathroom for quite some time. As the crew on board starts taking preliminary measures for descent, two seats remain unoccupied, and two women are most certainly not wearing their seatbelts.

After several minutes, Kate walks out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her as she walks by a man in his mid thirties who is sitting next to his wife and a couple children. Kate catches his glance as she strides by and she shoots a tempting pout and a wink... at his wife. Laughing softly, she slides into her seat. When Mercedes walks out a couple minutes later past the now open-mouthed man, Kate takes her hand when they were both seated. 

"I should have you dress me every morning. Then undress me. Then dress me again. When can you move in?"

Mercedes was chuckling, but as both women realized that the other was... actually at least entertaining the possibility... Kate quickly changed the subject.

"Hey, looks like we're about to land."

Disembarking the plane, Mercedes and Kate make their way to a dark sedan parked on the tarmac. As the driver tips his hat at Don Logan and opens the rear door for her, Mercedes circles the vehicle and enters on the other side. She turns to Kate as the driver whisks them into local traffic.

"I bet the view from the hotel room isn't as good as yours at home," she says. She is oddly homesick for Kate's penthouse.

Resting her hand on top of Kate's,  she watches unfamiliar territory roll by. When the car comes to a stop, she looks up at the hotel they've arrived at. It was elegant, if a bit stuffy looking.

"Looks like we're here..."

Kate stares out the window in wonder as the car moves through the streets of Paris. Everything seems so different. Leaving Texas, she'd felt something similar when she first arrived in Detroit. But whereas then she was alone and trying to claw her own way in the world, now she had friends. A family. Mercedes. Money. And even some power. She smiled as she leaned forward to the window, trying to see as much as she could of the strange Parisian afternoon, where even the sun seemed to fall at a different angle. 

Their hotel, one of the best in the city, was magnificent. Kate's penthouse was expensive, but it was also modern. This place had a... grandeur. A history. Kate had never really seen anything like it before and she was a bit intimidated as she walked in. Fortunately, the man at the front desk spoke some English, and the women quickly got the keys to their room. The room was big, with a breathtaking view of the city, a large king size bed, a few chairs, and a couch. Kate flashed a genuine smile as she stretched out her arms and fell back on the bed, taking a deep breath.

"I can't believe we're fucking in Paris."

"We're not. Not yet, anyway. Airspace doesn't count," she says with a wink, enjoying the play on words as she stands at the windows, appreciating the view. It was cliche', but the view of the Eiffel Tower was indeed romantic.

"You wanna rest a bit? Or should we do our supply runs? I can ask the concierge to call a couple cars...?"

She stretches, tossing her coat to the side as she kicks off her boots and slides toward a pillow.

"We have time. I'd need to sleep, I think. The flight tired me out for some reason...

Kate smiles, lying back on the bed.

I've got a guy who works in the embassy who can set us up with Bullitt in the next couple days. Get him out of dinner alone... and we'll spring our trap."

She yawns. 

Grateful for any excuse to grab some sleep herself, Mercedes kicks off her heels and plops down on the bed next to Kate. Stroking her hair, she's out cold before she knows it, fingers still in Kate's hair and a peaceful, if tired, smile on her face. 

Kate wakes up and smiles as she looksinto Mercedes' face resting next to her- then the confusion hits her as her brain kicks into gear and starts processing where, when, and why. She starts reaching for her gun, but it isn't there. She'd stopped wearing her traditional holster, instead replacing it with a custom one on the inside of her jacket... which she wasn't wearing. Noticing the morning sun and the time on the clock, she swears.

"GAWD-dammit! Wake up, Mercedes! It's tomorrow!"

Kate immediately rolls over on the bed reaching for the phone. After a hushed conversation, she hangs up.

"I'm going out to meet with my contact now. I'll handle that. Can you get the blood and figure out whatever else we need to do in case it's tonight? If you want me to meet you somewhere for lunch or something, just leave a note with the hotel desk. I'll call and check in."

Kissing the confused Mercedes on the cheek and slipping on her jacket, Kate is gone- still wearing her clothes from the previous day.