Little One: Bonus Chapter.

AN: Whoopee! Bonus Chapter two! Even though it took me a while longer to write... Heh... Honestly, I think I had far more fun writing this chapter than I should have, because really... you'll see. And... WOO HOOOOOOO! FIFTY REVIEWS! I am pleased as... something nice. So, thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, and now, to my dear and wonderful CURRENT reviewers...

Em: ...Pfft to you too.

Abitat Eco: Yaaaaaay! I'm glad you liked it! And I hope you like this chapter, since it's the one you requested! Please enjoy! :D

The Mocking J: Ha ha! Right now, the thought of Frieda being sweet makes me laugh... And blowing up an experiment just seemed like something that they would do... XD I'm glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope you like this one too!

Miss Descole: Yep, Frieda was a lot of fun to write about! I'm so glad that she's not a Mary Sue! I was terrified throughout the whole chapter that she would be, but then I took a Mary Sue test and my score was 0... So that was good. Anyway, Thank you so much!

Lass: Aww, I'm glad you enjoyed it! Yay! A request! I'll try my best to write it well!

So, this chapter is dedicated to Abitat Eco - I hope it's what you asked for, Abbie! :) Please enjoy, everyone!

Disclaimer: Right! That's it! I'm done with this thing! (throws Disclaimer out the window, and it lands on a random writer's head)

Random writer: Wha-?

(Weird choral music comes from the sky as the random writer shakes out their hair with the disclaimer still perched on top like a hat. A random reader and a random reviewer appear out of nowhere)

Random reviewer: Hey, cool Disclaimer.

Random reader: That thing totally makes me like your stories more!

(The random writer smiles, and all of a sudden the 'Thneed' song from 'The Lorax' starts booming out of the sky. Noe looks out the window and sees a huge crowd of fanfiction writers and readers and reviewers and favouriters and... stalkers? ...Coming up the street singing to the music)

"Everybody should read this Disclaimer!

It is the greatest Disclaimer ever!

This Disclaimer's good! This Disclaimer's great!

Let's hope we're not to la-a-a-a-ate!"

(Noe starts panicking and slams the window shut, also hoping that her own readers got the 'Lorax' reference)

Noe: Right! You lot! Stop reading this disclaimer, or else these crazy singers won't leave me alone! Go! Read the story! READ!

Descole, disguised as Simon Foster, was out having an interview for some magazine or newspaper - and Raymond was alone in the house.

He stretched, then winced as a stab of pain shot through his injured back. Only a day earlier, Raymond had a rather unfortunate accident with a ladder. If it wasn't for this particular injury, he would be with Descole right now.

He wondered vaguely when his master had learned how to drive a car.

Raymond pushed himself up from his chair very slowly and made his way over to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

The last few weeks, he reflected, had been very uneventful. After the events in Monte d'Or and Akbadain, Descole had - to Raymond's surprise - decided to lay low for a while as they planned their next move - It seemed that Targent was making an extra effort to stay close on their tail. However, Raymond knew that it was only a matter of time before Descole grew bored of the lack of activity - and then they would both be plunging headfirst into danger again.

I'm really getting too old for this, Raymond thought miserably as he began to boil the water. All this running around - it's getting to be far too much.

He searched for the tea strainer for a while, before realising that he had confiscated it from the kitchen in an attempt to try to force Descole to actually eat something.

"Look at you!" Raymond had raged just a few days earlier, "I don't care how important all your 'projects' are - that gives you no reason to neglect acting like a human being!"

"I drink tea," Descole had protested stubbornly, causing Raymond to throw his hands up in the air, snatch the tea strainer from the drawer and stomp upstairs with it, leaving Descole to stare after him in shock.

Now, however, having the tea strainer upstairs was more of a nuisance than a precaution. Raymond dragged himself out of the kitchen again, and was about halfway through the sitting room when a voice stopped him in his tracks:

"Stop right where you are, old man, and turn around - slowly."

Raymond's hand hovered over his pocket where he knew that he had a few smoke bombs hidden, then realised that they wouldn't be much good in this situation and did as the voice asked.

He was hardly surprised when he came face-to-face with three Targent soldiers. One of them examined him very closely from behind dark glasses.

"I don't know," the man said finally, "He looks like the guy who was with that Descole person."

"It is," another soldier said flatly, "I was right there when they escaped."

The third soldier snorted slightly. "Like you could tell - there was smoke everywhere! Now let's just get back to headquarters. If we bring this guy to the commander, and he is who you say he is, we will be greatly rewarded."

"Wait!" the second soldier commanded as the third moved forwards. Raymond remained expressionless. "He's not what we came for. If we wait awhile, that Descole man might come back. Then the commander will be very pleased."

The other two soldiers thought about this for a moment, and Raymond desperately and silently pleaded for them to disagree.

"Alright," the first soldier said slowly. Raymond's heart sank, "We'll wait. But if that guy manages to get past all of us and we have to return empty-handed, the commander will be none too happy about us being absent without leave."

Raymond took in this information with interest and with a small amount of relief - if Reinel didn't know where these soldiers were, then it meant that he wasn't right behind them. The first soldier turned back to Raymond, jabbing at him with his gun.

"You," he said sharply, "Get over there and stay quiet. Don't cause any trouble, or I'll have to use this." he shook the gun in Raymond's face, glaring down menacingly at him.

Raymond moved over to the corner of the room - gun still trained on his head - and lowered himself into one of the armchairs there. Thankfully, none of the soldiers seemed to mind. He considered making a break for it and running upstairs to get his own gun, but thought better of it when his back cracked painfully. The two soldiers that were not pointing guns at him began to argue in hushed voices.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" one of them asked, "I mean, you saw how that Descole guy got past all of those bullets - and a bunch of other soldiers."

"It'll be fine," the other said blandly. "He doesn't stand a chance against the three of us. Besides, I need a bit of a reward, after all the years that I've served Targent."

The other soldier gave a non-committal grunt and said nothing more.

There were a few minutes of silence. The gun pointed at Raymond's head didn't waver. The more Raymond thought about it, the worse the situation seemed to become. He wished fervently for Descole to somehow be trapped in London. The soldiers began to speak again.

"How long is the commander supposed to be out for?" the first soldier asked.

The other shrugged. "No idea. Bloom was a bit vague..."

There was a soft rustling sound from the hallway. Raymond's heart nearly stopped, but none of the soldiers seemed to hear it. He strained his ears to catch another sound, but there was only silence.

"Speaking of Bloom," the first soldier said, "How long do you think it will take before he's found out?"

A shadow moved past the doorway, then stopped at the doorframe. None of the soldiers made any sign that they had seen. Raymond tried desperately convey as much of 'Get out' into his expression without attracting attention. The figure at the door paused for a moment, before slipping silently into the room.

" ...No idea," the second soldier was saying, "He's pretty good - hey!"

Everyone in the room froze as the soldier caught sight of Descole, except the man himself, who continued to move along the wall.

"Stop!" the first soldier commanded once he got his bearings back. "You're coming with us!"

For one scarce moment, Descole seemed to consider them. Raymond held his breath. Please, he muttered internally, please don't do anything stupid. Then Descole looked at the man pointing the gun at Raymond's head, and something seemed to snap inside him.

He leapt forwards without warning, grazing the roof and knocking one man over with a single sharp kick. However, as Descole landed, the other soldier drew his own firearm and shot at his feet, forcing Descole backwards. Both men stared at one another over the barrel of the gun, before Descole averted his eyes to the coffee table beside him. Raymond followed his gaze.

There lay the spare frying pan that Raymond had neglected to put away the night before. Descole's fingers curled around the handle, and he raised the cooking utensil above his head. The soldier stared at him in disbelief.

"You're going to use that?" he asked in shock, any professional commanding air that he had about him disappearing. Below the mask, Descole's expression darkened.

"I really don't have the patience to explain myself to dullards such as yourself," he said cooly. The soldier's face became bright red, and he tightened his hold on the gun, but before he could do anything else, Descole brought the frying pan down heavily upon his head. The man collapsed with a groan, and as he did so Descole was already flinging the object at the soldier that he had knocked over beforehand. It hit the man on the temple, and he crumpled on the floor. Descole ran forwards to collect the utensil, but as he turned to take down the third and final soldier, Raymond felt the cold metal of the gun being pressed to his head. Both he and Descole stiffened.

"Now," the soldier said darkly, "I suggest for you to come quietly, or else I'll shoot the old man." Raymond watched the shadow pass over Descole's face.

"You wouldn't dare," he snarled, but didn't move. The soldier raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, really?" Raymond heard the gun give a click, and Descole tensed. "I'm sure that, after that Akbadain place, the commander would be incredibly happy to see you both, however I have the feeling that he wouldn't mind so much if this one was gone." he cocked his head in Raymond's direction. "I'm making this easy - come quietly, and the old geezer won't get hurt."

Descole was silent, but obviously seething. He straightened up and gazed down at the soldier, and even Raymond could see the fire in the eyes behind the mask.

"You fool," he snapped, "You think that's all it will take to... ah, force me?" The soldier cocked his head in irritation, and Descole smirked. A split second later, the frying pan was spinning through the air. It hit the man in the middle of his forehead.

Raymond barely noticed as the soldier hit the ground - he was more concerned about Descole, who suddenly looked terribly exhausted. The younger man turned to him with a worried frown.

"Raymond? Are you alright?" Raymond tried to smile reassuringly, and he stood up slowly. Descole looked ready to jump forwards and help him at any time, but the older man waved him off.

"I'm fine," he said breathlessly, "Just shaken." when Descole continued to look at him concernedly, Raymond allowed himself to laugh. "I was about to throw that frying pan out, you know. It didn't heat up very well." Descole offered a wry smile as Raymond took it from his hands. "Perhaps we should keep it on the mantelpiece."

Descole relaxed a little as Raymond shuffled across the room. He turned to the soldiers lying on the floor. "What should we do with them?"

Raymond raised a bushy eyebrow. "The soldiers?" he frowned. "I don't know. We can't keep them in the house."

Descole nodded. "Perhaps we could dump them somewhere in London," he said thoughtfully, "And then Reinel can deal with them."

"Is that wise?" Raymond stroked his beard, "They might try to come back."

Descole gave a cold laugh. "They won't. They probably all have severe concussion, and coming back here after waking up won't be on the top of their priority list." He glared down at the soldier with the gun. "Nitwit," he hissed under his breath, then grabbed the man's arms and started trying to drag him across the floor.

Raymond watched him for a moment, cursing his back and his old age and his inability to help. Descole stopped once he got to the doorway to rest a moment.

"Perhaps," he mused out loud, "I shouldn't take them all the way to London - the car probably won't be able to cope with the weight." He flashed Raymond another one of his dry smiles. "This will probably take a while, Raymond. Perhaps you should go lock yourself in a room, just in case there are more of them around." He jerked his head at the soldiers as he said this, and Raymond nodded mutely.

All this for a cup of tea, he thought exasperatedly, who would ever have thought that it would be this much trouble?

Once Descole had left, Raymond finally decided that it was about time for him to collect the tea strainer from upstairs. It took him a while to find it, and when he did, he glared accusingly at it.

"You," he said to it sternly, "Are probably the most troublesome object I have ever known. If you weren't up here, those soldiers wouldn't have seen me so early on, and then I might've heard them and been more prepared." He shook the tea strainer angrily. "I might as well get rid of you and replace you with a frying pan." He began to move out of the room before he paused to look at it again. "Actually," he said, "I can't do that, because if I did, Descole would go on strike and refuse to eat anything." Raymond sniffed and carried on downstairs. "Ridiculous thing."

When Descole returned, Raymond was sitting on the couch with a pot of freshly made tea.

"You would never believe," he said tiredly, "How difficult it is to dump three unconscious men in an alleyway." He perched himself on the lounge beside Raymond and put his head in his hands. Raymond hummed thoughtfully, and Descole looked over at him. "You seem to be fine," he said hesitantly, almost unsurely, and Raymond smiled kindly at him.

"We've been through worse," he said dismissively, "And really, those men didn't stand a chance."

Descole made a humphing noise, but he looked rather pleased with himself. Raymond rolled his eyes and held up the teapot.

"Cup of tea?" he asked.

AN: And that's that! I hope you all liked it, and the next chapter SHOULD be up sooner.

Peace is a blessing, so treasure it always!