The night was silent, but for the creaking of the weathervane.

And, of course, the unmistakable sound of a broad-shouldered man trying to climb through a tiny window.

The earthy-skinned woman just ahead of him stopped cooly. "Yates." she said, not turning around.

"Ma'am." said broad shouldered man said uncomfortably.

"That better not be the sound I think it is."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Yates replied, attempting to shimmy further into the window with about as much success as a brick trying to fall upwards.

The woman began to tap her cane against the floor impatiently. "I'm quite certain you do."

"There's no problem whatsoever here." he continued hurriedly. "I believe it would be more strategically advisable were I to remain here. Keep a lookout."

"Yates."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Don't bullshit me, Yates."

"Of course not, ma'am."

The Ma'am turned and stepped a little closer to the dratted window.

"Who gives the orders around here, Yates?"

"You do, ma'am."

"That's right! So we'll be sticking to my plan, won't we, Yates?"

"Of course, ma'am."

"Now come along."

"At once, ma'am."

There was a long pause in conversation, although not a silence, of course. Thoroughly stuck gentlemen, even when trying to be as silent as can be, occasionally fail.

"Yates."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You're stuck, aren't you?"

"That would, seem to be the case."

Ma'am smiled in the way of someone holding back a laugh.

"And what are you going to do about this?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am."

"Do you think perhaps my assistance is necessary?"

"Perhaps so, ma'am."

Ma'am rolled her eyes, but stepped closer, tapping her cane as she went. "The difficulty, of course," she said, as casually as if discussing an unusual weather pattern. "Is freeing you without making too much noise. Not that there hasn't already been considerable noise."

"Apologies, ma'am."

"Oh, well. I do enjoy a dramatic entrance, but this will suffice." Perfectly nonchalantly, Ma'am drew a pistol from her coat. "Where's your face, Yates?"

"On my head, ma'am."

"Don't be funny."

"Sorry, ma'am."

She waved her gun vaguely until it brushed against Yates' face. "Ah, there you are!" She said, aimed slightly to the left, and fired. Yates jumped (as much as someone stuck in a window can jump) as splintered, scorched wood flew past his ear.

"Ma'am, perhaps you could just give me a push and I could break the back door down." Privately, Yates couldn't help but wonder why this hadn't been Plan A.

"Nonsense, Yates. Hold still!"

"Ma'am!" Yates protested. He averted his eyes from Ma'am's face, quite intimidated by the gun almost directly in his face. She stood perfectly still, pistol quivering ever so slightly.

"MA'AM!" Yates yelped as another blast of wood showered his face.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Ma'am replied, placing the gun back inside her coat. "There. Try it now."

~

Yates picked himself up off of the floor and dusted splinters off of himself, before turning back to the window and lifting his suitcase inside. "You would have a much easier time if you weren't carrying that bloody thing everywhere." Ma'am muttered as she fumbled slightly to light a cigarette one handed. Helpfully, Yates momentarily took her cane.

"I'm afraid that is not an option for me, ma'am." he said as he handed her back her cane. "Shall we continue? The night grows short, and that was quite the racket we made."

"Ah, of course." Ma'am turned and began to walk along into the foyer. Yates followed loyally as she walked up the stairs, experienced in step in a way he had rarely seen her before. "No, no." Ma'am said halfway up. "You wait here."

"Of course, Ma'am." he said.

What happened next, Yates could only guess from what he didn't overhear. Valets don't overhear things they clearly aren't supposed to. So he DIDN'T overhear a bang, not of a gun but of a door being kicked open, and he DIDN'T hear Ma'am's voice ringing out clear and bright as a bell: "Hallo, Ignatius! Long time no see!"

There was a rough, muffled scream, and a response. "M-M-M-M... You're dead!"

"I'm offended, Iggy! I'd've thought you'd be *glad* to know I'm alive and well!"

"Y-Y-Y-"

"Now, I must say, my eyesight's went since our little spat. So this may be a VERY painful and VERY slow death, but that seems perfectly fair if you asked me!" Ignatius whimpered as heels clacked across wood. "Ooh, do that again. That was a serious request, it helps me work out where to aim."

Of course, all Yates ACTUALLY overhead was several gunshots and some agonized shouts.

Eventually, Ma'am stepped out of the room, flecks of blood splattering her dress. "Bastard had the audacity to move into my damn house." she muttered as she approached the balcony. "We have rooms for the night, Yates!" she called.

"Excellent, ma'am." Yates said, walking up the stairs. "Shall I dispose of the body?"

"Ooh, good idea." she said. "Put the kettle on on the way out, there's a good man."