It has certainly been a while since I've updated, and I truly apologize to all my loyal readers for that, but I have unfortunately been annoyingly busy. But I'm back, as long as I'm not busy at least…

Disclaimer: I do not own Da Vinci Code or any of the characters

On that note, please enjoy the chapter…


Ice showers combined with a flurry of hail, descended upon Charles de Gaulle International Airport that night. A soft thumping could be heard above the heads of the airport's residents that night, as the frozen water beat against the roof. The gale force winds combined with the extreme weather had grounded all planes till the storm's end.

Which to Sophie's fear, was seeming farther away by the second…

"But it's an emergency," Sophie pleaded over the check-in counter, "There needs to be a plane to Rome!"

"Madame," The male attendant repeated patiently, "As I have said before there are no flights currently-"

The small chunks of ice beat against the windows relentlessly, almost falling into a rhythm of malicious laughter, as to provoke Sophie further.

"I know what you said!" Sophie shouted at the poor attendant, her frustration finally peaking.

"Sophie…" her Captain lay a calming hand on her shoulder from behind, "There's nothing we can do."

With a fierce anger running through her veins, Sophie stomps away from the counter. Fache quickly follows with an exasperated sigh, knowing that nothing will stop this girl from getting what she wants. But in a way he can understand her reckless determination at a time like this, with only the thought of her good friend dead because she was too late.

And father time was certainly not on their side in this situation.

When Sophie deciphered the code a few hours ago Bezu of course, had immediately used the agency's resources to procure two tickets from De Gaulle Airport to Rome, Italy at 11:25 that night. But after being driven to the airport by a police car in the weak beginnings of the storm, things did not go as planned.

Or at least the weather refused to let them.

Since Robert's wedding was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, and he now held a large bounty over his head, Sophie's rush was very understandable.

A rush of cold wind slammed Bezu back slightly, and droplets of rain dabbed his face as Sophie led him through the double doors and into the storm.

Fache could see Sophie's eyes examining her surroundings through the bleak weather, shielding her face with her hand. After a few more moments of searching Sophie turned around to face him disappointed, "Merde…" she cursed to herself, "There are no more cabs!" She shouted over the noise of the winds to be heard.

"They wouldn't be driving in this weather!" Bezu responded logically.

"Can't you call some of your men?" Sophie whined.

The Captain shook his head in response, "Not even my men can drive in these conditions," he also produced his cell phone from his pocket and gestured to the screen, "Besides there is no reception!" And in fact flashing on the small screen were the bold words, 'NO SIGNAL.'

An involuntary shiver overcame Sophie's body as an especially powerful wind hit her exposed back. This immediately caught Bezu's attention and sent off those overprotective warning lights that all men seem to have, and with a quick movement he had his coat as well as his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Lets go inside." His concerned whisper echoed in her ear, and somehow seemed to make her feel much to hot, despite the thirty-degree weather.

Sophie simply gave a weak nod, afraid that her voice may reveal more of this strange feeling than she wants to. He held her firm and close, like a diamond the cold wished to shatter, as he escorted her through the large terminal doors.

"Merci," Sophie said politely, as she handed back his warm jacket, having collected and calmed herself from before.

" No problème," he replied accepting the article of clothing.

A sigh of desperation racked Sophie's body as she began to play her last ideas on how to escape this airport, "Can't you just flash your badge, and tell them the situation," she whispered quickly hoping no-one heard.

Fache gave her a warning look but joked, "It's not as easy as the American's make it look in the movies," he leaned in so she could hear him, " And besides, you know this mission is strictly confident ional," Bezu reminded her of what she already knew.

"I'm aware of that but-"

"But nothing Sophie," he responded with finality, "If the press somehow found out and published what we are planning to do, it could put Robert's life in even more danger."

Sophie just silenced herself in defeat, choosing not to argue with her boss on an impossible option.

"Besides," Fache tried to rationalize with her, "Anything that tries to leave the airport in this weather, won't make it anywhere but to a scrap yard."

A moment of silence passed, while both thought deeply of the hole they had dug themselves into and if there was anyway out. Also by the time they did find a way to Rome, would it be too late…

They knew the answer to their contemplations, even before they spoke a word. It sat there occupying the small space between them, in all its grave understanding. A truth neither wished to repeat out-loud for it would only certify its existence further.

Finally Bezu spoke with a sadness seldom found in his voice, "I'm sorry Sophie," He looked her in the eye with genuine sorrow, "But I believe we are trapped here for the night…"

Surrender overtook the usual determination in her brown eyes as she sighed, "I know…"

"I just don't understand Madrina," Vittoria cried to her godmother.

"Men can never be understood," Mena, responded cynically, "Just scolded when they make the mistakes, you know they're going to make either way."

The young women just shook her head in confusion, as she stood from the soft couch in her godmother's luxuries Italian apartment, "What are you saying, Mena?"

"My dear," she began in her smooth persuasive tone, luring her goddaughter farther and farther away from her love, " I'm just saying it would be easier to depart now, before your fiancé makes a habit of lying to you and seeing other women."

Vittoria remembered the tense and taught air on the flight when they flew here this morning. She thought of his arms around another women, his name on another girl's lips, his eyes shinning for another's love.

Vittoria couldn't look at him the entire flight, these thoughts made his sight too much to handle; she would have puked all over the plane.

So when they reached Italy, Robert opted to stay in a nearby hotel, while Vittoria stayed at her godmothers.

Few words were spoken, but from the look of things the wedding was still on, and Robert had not yet explained himself. Then again Vittoria almost wondered what he would say to make up for this, 'Sorry I outright lied and cheated on you, but let's still get married, ok?'

But still Vittoria knew she must talk to him before the wedding, for both they're sakes. Something was sending off warning lights in her head, telling her to ignore the facts and speak with her love before they rushed into something irrational.

Like a marriage based on society's image for them and a hoard of lies.

"Robert would never-" She tried to convince herself, turning away from her godmother's glaring eyes.

"He already has!" Mena spat, turning her around and shoving the incriminating pictures in her face.

Vittoria couldn't tell if she was thinking rationally or desperately when she questioned quietly, "Maybe it really was his colleague?"

The elderly women cleared her throat in frustration, "Maybe so," she gave Vittoria that point, "But he still lied to you about his colleague's gender, why would he do that if he didn't have a more personal relationship with her!"

That is true, Vittoria admitted.

Vittoria chewed over all this information for a minute, "All the same," her voice began to crack, "I need to talk to him."

Sophie's anxious pacing was starting to irritate Fache.

She had already completed three rotations of Gate B and was unconsciously making her way toward forming giant holes in the rug of Gate C.

"Sophie," Bezu called to her from his seat.

Sophie didn't hear her boss, as she continued back and forth, now mumbling under her breath, with only a few profanities Fache could make out.

Now he got up in need to stop her before they attracted the attention of the few civilians scattered about the airport stuck in the same boat as them.

"Sophie!" he stopped her abruptly by taking hold of her shoulders.

"What!" she snapped back, her dark eyes shinning with tears as she struggled to hold them back.

Sophie broke his grip on her and stride to a nearby widow sill, where she sat and let her tears fall like the rain she gazed so intently into.

With sadness etched on his face as well he joined Sophie, sitting rather close to her in order to pull her into a noticeable un professional hug, as he comforted her with his deep voice, "I wish there was something I could do…"

"He's dead… he's dead…." Was the only thing she could repeat over and over again in her hysterics.

"Not only for Robert," he whispered in her ear, "But for you, so you may never feel any pain like this again…"

At this remark Sophie stopped her sobbing for a moment and gazed into his eyes, that hover just inches above hers. And for a moment, as cliché as it may be, the endless tapping of the rain ceased, the usual buzz of airport activity was nowhere to be found, and the light seemed to fade from the background as Sophie's eyes focused themselves into his dark brown orbs.

For a moment they sat there in eternity, like star crossed lovers never to be, but this was no fairytale, that they both knew. The prince was not charming, and the princess not in love, so they would steal this moment, from all tales happy or not. Just a mere second it took for the heart to betray, for them both to lean in, and…

"Robert?" Vittoria called into his hotel door, and gaze a swift knock against the wood.

"Yes?" a voice called from within.

"It's Vittoria…" she answered hesitantly, slightly nervous to talk to her fiancé.

A thin silence was stretched between the couple as Robert stood clutching the doorknob in his clammy hands, and Vittoria with a curious ear pressed against the frame of the door. The air seemed to clench in his throat as he cautiously opened the door, to look upon the face of his glowing bride to be.

While lying in his hotel room Langdon had been reviewing all the perfectly logical reasons to get married. A few obvious thoughts came to mind, such as the fact that he was well over forty, with his future prospects growing thinner with his hair, and Vittoria was well near the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Most importantly though, he remembered to keep telling himself:

I love her.

"You look good…" he gave her a gentle smile, as the blush crawled up her cheeks.

"Thank you." She responded awkwardly, still standing at the door, "Can I come in?"

"Of course…" Robert stepped aside and motioned her in.

A pregnant pause passed between the two before Langdon asked, "How's Mena?"

Vittoria looked at him in shock for a moment before shaking her head and sighing as she muttered, "Where getting married tomorrow, and all you can ask is about my family…."

"I was just being-"

"Cut the crap," Vittoria interrupted him harshly.

"It wasn't me who started this!"

She rolled her eyes, tired of his stalling and excuses, she turned away from him completely.

"Vittoria…" he reached out to her.

"I love you Robert…" she whispered, with a bitterness hanging off her pale lips, "I've never been more sure of anything, but…"

Her voice faltered as he saw the wet tears drip from her tan skin, and into the piercing crimson of the carpet.

"I just need to know one thing…"


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