Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the musical, book and/or musicals. However, it is all based primarily on the musical. This is a short little thing and won't be added to. I might very well make a series of it. Not sure if I will. If my muse bites me, I will, but.... we'll see :D

Hugs and peaches,


(A.N: This is completely from the musical and let's assume this is before the Prince's Ball and Marguerite never had the chance to tell Percy about her romance with Chauvelin.)

Grappin flopped down in the booth next to Chauvelin, who was too busy looking absently into his drink. Chauvelin looked up at the man and nodded. "What have you learned?"

"I've learned that the Pimpernel is going to be coming to France soon,"he answered.

"When?"he demanded.

"Within the week,"he replied. He quickly ordered a drink from a nearby bar girl and sat back in the seat. "Chauvelin, why are you having me follow Lady Blakeney?"he asked suddenly.

"She may be of use to us,"he said as he tossed back the rest of the drink.

"How? How do you intend to use this women?"

Chauvelin ordered another drink and leaned his elbows on the table. Clasping his hands together, he leaned on his elbows and whispered,"Just leave that with me."

Grappin regarded him warily and asked,"There have been things going around about this woman, this St. Just. People are saying that it was she who denounced the Marquis de St. Cyr. Was it you that had her do it?"

Chauvelin nodded briefly and motioned for him to remain silent while the waitress brought them both their drinks. Once she was gone, Chauvelin said,"Grappin, I'm not concerned with St.Cyr. He's dead and there's nothing anyone can do."

"But why have her denounce him? You could have done it without her,"he pointed out.

"Yes, I dare say I could have,"he agreed. "However, I didn't know where the British had hidden him. The pimpernel, no doubt, must have arranged safe passage for him out of France." Bringing the drink to his lips, he muttered under his breath,"Damn aristos!"

"May I ask how you convinced her to betray him?"

"Betray? Oh, I wouldn't call it a betrayal. She didn't know him, not really."

"Betrayal, denouncing; it's all the same. How did you convince her to spy for you though? She doesn't seem like the sort to go around denouncing everyone and their neighbor."

"Oh, she isn't,"he pointed out with a laugh. "You want to know how I earned that information. All right."

Putting the large mug down, he simply said,"Blackmail."

"Blackmail?" Grappin echoed. When Chauvelin nodded positively, he asked,"What sort of blackmail?"

"Well, let's just say Marguerite St. Just and I were once very well acquainted." Chauvelin's eyes lowered curiously when he saw Grappin pale slightly and heard him take a quick inhale of oxygen. "Is it that hard to believe, Grappin?"

The Belgian shook his head and said,"And?"

"Well, I would hardly imagine that Mademoiselle St. Just would want her husband to know of our 'liason', shall we say."

Grappin shook his head and some of his greasy gray locks fell in his face. "No, of course not. So you told her...."he broke off for Chauvelin to finish.

"I told her I would tell her husband of what happened between us if she didn't tell me where St. Cyr was hidden."

"Chauvelin...."Grappin whispered, horrified.

"She gave me the paper with the location before she left France to be married." Suddenly, Chauvelin let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. "I, personally, never thought that she would be one to marry."

"So the reason you've had me following Lady Blakeney is because you want to blackmail her again?" he asked innocently.

"You don't need to follow her anymore. I've already got all the aces in my favor."

"What aces?"

"Armand St. Just, her brother. I've had him arrested."

"Why did you arrest him? What was his crime?"

Chauvelin shrugged and replied,"He is a member of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel."

Grappin raised one of his bushy eyebrows and commented,"Is that so?"

Nodding again he answered,"Yes and she will bring me the Scarlet Pimpernel if she wants him to live."

"You would kill the boy?"he asked.

"It is the cause,"he quoted Shakespeare and accented it with a gulp of the alcohol in his cup. "It will justify the means."

"Yes, I suppose it does,"Grappin muttered. "So, you think that this St. Just woman knows who the Scarlet Pimpernel is?"

"I don't know if she knows, but she's a clever woman. She'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Do you want me to continue to follow her?"

"You don't need to do that, she's all ready in France."

"What?!"Grappin exclaimed, not bothering to mask his surprise.

"She's in France,"he repeated. "She can still be of use to us though."

"How?" Grappin asked suspiciously.

"Bait. The Scarlet Pimpernel loves to save the innocent from the guillotine and if she is indeed part of the pimpernel's social circle, then he will no doubt want to save her, yes?"

Grappin shook his head in understanding and said,"Of course he will. Are you certain he'll come though?"

"Of course I am." Chauvelin shook his head and threw back the rest of his drink, which was a considerable amount of alcohol and Grappin had no idea he had drunk before he arrived. "Perhaps you shouldn't drink anymore tonight,"Grappin suggested, taking the mug away from him.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do!"he spat out. Grabbing one of the bar maids attention, he ordered another drink and folded his arms angrily. "Damn stubborn woman!"he muttered.

"What was that?" Grappin asked.

"She is stubborn. She had no idea what she could have had here in France with me. She doesn't know what I've done for her!"

"Who?"Grappin inquired with a touch of stupidity to his voice.

"Marguerite St. Just!"he shouted. "I gave up everything for that woman!"

"What did you give up for her?"

"I became an agent for her!"

"You did?"

"Yes...."He paused and looked ahead of him blankly,"I knew she wouldn't have me if I was just a penniless soldier. I wanted to marry her, you know. Now look at her...she's married to an idiotic man who cares more about what lace he has on his cravat then his wife."

Grappin regarded him silently for a few moments and then asked,"You still love her, don't you, Chauvelin?"

Shrugging, he said,"I'll always want her, but.... she's stubborn! I've told you she's stubborn. She knows her husband doesn't love her. A blind man could see that he doesn't love her!"

"Now, isn't that a bit harsh? He must love her if her married her,"he pointed out.

"If you insist,"he answered. "Would you like to know something, Grappin? I loved her. No, love her. I still do. She doesn't care though. I think she might have loved me once, but now...oh God, no! She's too happy as Lady Blakeney!"

Grappin put his arm around Chauvelin and tried to have him stand up. "Come along, you've had too much to drink and you have a lot to plan." Shaking off Grappin's arm, he insisted,"I can get up myself. Besides....." He stopped and seemed to contemplate something. Turning his head to the side curiously, he looked at Grappin and said,"Well, what have we here...."

A group of the prostitutes and bar maids were all singing a loud French song and Chauvelin shot up out of his seat. Grappin raised to follow him and watched as Chauvelin shouted loudly above the singers,"Well, aren't we lucky tonight, mes amies? Tonight, for limited engagement, we have with us the great actress of the Comedie Francias: Marguerite St. Just!" He grabbed one of the girls roughly by the arm and pulled at the dark curls on the girls head. The hair came off easily and revealed a mass of curly auburn-red hair. Grappin gasped loudly, drawing Chauvelin's attention and he looked at him suspiciously. Grappin moved towards Chuavelin and his prisioner. "Let's see if she can sing the song as it was meant to be sung,"he insisted, shoving her towards the center of the room. "If she still speaks French!" he spat out.

Grappin quietly left the bawdy bar and walked into the dark alley. Pulling off the hat, wig, coat and fake moustache and nose, Grappin pulled on a dark army cloak and revealed himself as Percy Blakeney. "All right, Chauvelin,"he muttered to himself, while picking up the Grappin disguise. "You've made my Marguerite cry for the last time."

That's all folks! Should I write a series about scenes not in shown in the play? I was thinking about it, but I'm not sure. Thanks!

Hugs and peaches,