Usual disclaimers apply: i don't own the 'verse. kudos to those who do.

Please comment: criticsm is good, guidance is better.

A/N: How does one make links to other pieces of fic on this forum?

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She allowed herself a small chuckle.

She’d managed to escape one of the most top secret institutions known to the ‘verse, had employed every skill she had learned in her time with the marchand de nouvelles, had been able to keep running when those closest to her were gunned down like stray rodents.

And now she was hopelessly stuck between a simple divan and a weathered chair.

She’d spent the last several hours trying in vain to pull herself up from the crouching position that had gotten her stuck in the first place---to no avail. She didn’t dare try to simply break one of the battered pieces of furniture from their positions in the floor---there would be too much noise.

Her legs were beginning to cramp from being squashed underneath her. Five years out of the game and I’m going to be caught because I couldn’t see my way into a dark room, she thought. Brilliant.

She began to play out all of the scenarios that could befall her, now that she would be discovered. There would be questions, certainmant. So far, the best case was that she could convince these people to drop her back at the Common and compensate them for the trouble; worst case was that she’d be sent back to le mans de bleu. She shuddered at that thought. Maybe one of them would be kind enough to just put a bullet in her skull before it came to that.

She scanned the tiny area, hoping there might be something that she could throw over her squashed form so as to delay the inevitable a few more moments. No such luck.

She tried to ignore the pain shooting up from her knees. At any rate, this had to be one of the worst positions to be stuck in.

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She woke to the flash of the bright l