Red-Haired Herring

Author's Note: Thanks to Arwensong for the title

Laila was singing as she drove them home from an evening of opera and thievery. The roads weren't crowded at that time of night and she indulged her love of speed - but just a little; it wouldn't be wise to attract too much attention when Ray's pockets were filled with souvenirs

Barcelona was pleasantly warm even at night, and the scenery was beautiful. Even after five weeks Laila felt as if she had barely seen a fraction of the city; surprising since she tended to tire of Ray's traveling whims well before he did.

She glanced over her shoulder towards the pair of men in the back. Ray gave her a smile in return, his eyes glowing cat-like in the dim light. Florian's eyes appeared to be closed.

"He's sleeping," Ray told her, speaking loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the car and the road. Laila glanced back again and saw Florian's hand draped casually over Ray's thigh, the pale skin stark against Ray's dark suit.

"Another fever?" she asked. Her initial dislike of the man had eroded into fond irritation.

"Nerves," Ray countered with far too much humor and satisfaction. If Florian had been awake this would have set off yet another battle of words. Laila was very glad he was sleeping. There'd been enough of that since Ray hatched the scheme for tonight's mission.

"Must be," she agreed with only a little grin. Florian hated being dragged into Noir's adventures. Since it usually involved him dressing in a ridiculous outfit, Laila couldn't really blame him. She was just thankful that tonight's costume wasn't another dress - her loyalty to Ray was absolute, but even she had drawn the line at getting Florian into a corset again.

"Red hair suits him," Ray said with enough tenderness in his voice that she just had to look. He had eased Florian down to rest on Ray's lap. His tie was loose and Ray was unbuttoning the collar of Florian's shirt. Laila turned back towards the road and resolved to concentrate on driving until they reached their rented villa.

Florian mumbled something and made a funny snuffling noise before settling down again. Laila bit her lip and managed not to laugh, imagining the look on Ray's face. She turned onto their driveway and parked at the side of the house where it would be easier to guide Florian to his bedroom.

"Want me to take him, boss?" Jacques asked, opening the car door and reaching for Florian. It wouldn't be the first time someone had to carry the man to bed - between fevers and a low tolerance for alcohol it was a fairly common event.

"Put him in the bathtub," Ray grinned devilishly before adding, "give him a pillow this time."

Laila followed the others into the house, motioning for Pierre to lock up for the night. Ray was headed towards the study and Luc was bringing the tea cart so Laila paused in the hallway, allowing herself a moment of satisfaction at getting to share tonight's victory with Ray alone.

She was just about to enter the study when Ray burst through the door, a handful of marbles and jacks in his hand. Before Ray could shout his name, Florian strode down the hallway carrying a pearl necklace.

"For the pillow," he said brightly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He handed Ray the pearls. "You'll get the rest when I'm no longer a redhead." He started to turn away, then hesitated and turned back. "Tonight was amusing. Thank you." He walked away briskly, said good night to Pierre and Jacques and disappeared up the stairs.

Laila waited nervously as Ray glared after the absent man. Jacques and Pierre slipped away and she mentally cursed them for cowards before straightening her shoulders. She didn't expect to be swept up in an embrace, or to hear Ray's laughter in her ear.

"Finally," Ray said when he calmed. He dropped into a seat and rubbed his forehead. "Took him long enough."

"You mean you wanted Florian to..." Laila couldn't even finish that thought - it was too absurd.

"Laila," Ray chided fondly, "you better than anyone know how I feel about uptight aristocrats."

She dropped into the chair opposite Ray, feeling stunned. Of course she knew that. All this time; how could she have missed it?

"Noir's finest mission, and you and I are the only ones who will ever know," Ray sounded almost sad for a moment, but the glint hadn't left his eyes. Laila stared for a moment, half captivated, half terrified - she'd just seen that very same look in Florian's eyes.

"Two Phantom Thieves Noir," she said, almost to herself before blinking and starting to smile. If she'd had a mirror, she would have recognized that same devilish glint in her own reflection.

"Three," Ray said very softly as he poured them each a glass of wine. The handful of marbles and jacks on his desk reflected the lamplight like jewels.

::end::

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