Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni, Alexi, Michael, Esteban, Mia, Wanda Vixen and Tamara Rabbit are Copyright © James Bruner. Jean LeBrun, Francois LeBrun, Marie LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Theodore Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg the Third, Roxanne Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Lupin, Doctor Fox Jones, William Pongo, Captain Archibald, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Dina Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Vincent Leon, Abu-Yusuf, Sergeant Otetiani, Lieutenant Black, Julie Black, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Rowena Spyke, Jeremy Mustela, William White, Hannah Vulpes, Richard Terry, Hantaywee Twofeathers, Professor Nutkin, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Werner Schnauzer, Professor Erica Belge, Charles 'Mouse' Mombay, Ulf Søndergård, Signe Enoksen, Gertrud Katze, Rita Sanchez, Agent Grochy, Agent Manchilla, Mr. Canis, Paul Donkey, Harley Davidson (Not the motorcycle manufacturer, obviously) and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005.

Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2005 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.

Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.

The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.

In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story.

"J'accuse"

Yohni got out of bed, stretching lazily. It had been a very long night, the night before. Two days in a row, she and Gabrielle had visited the porn convention in a strictly unofficial capacity. Two nights in a row they'd been beset by fans. Strangely, the mongoose found that she had enjoyed it tremendously. It wasn't work...it wasn't something she got paid to do. She had originally gone in because Gabrielle had thought it'd be fun. They'd gone back because it had been fun.

The French were certainly fans of ZZ Studios products.

Today, however, they wouldn't be going back. Today...they'd be packing up to continue onwards. To Rome.

Last stop, before going back stateside.

Gabrielle was still fast asleep. It had been...very late, before they had been tired enough to sleep. A lot of champagne...a lot of laughter...and a not insignificant amount of love had all conspired to keep them awake to the wee hours of the morning.

The sun was coming in through the window. Yohni looked at her sleeping girlfriend and smiled. She reached down and brushed a lock of hair out of the equine's face. In her sleep, Gabrielle smiled a little and mumbled something contently.

Yohni wasn't really in the mood to go anywhere yet. She wanted to go shopping later...she wanted one last wild shopping spree in Paris, but not until she'd packed everything. Not until sometime that same afternoon. The plane left from Orly in the evening. There was plenty of time.

A moment of inspiration struck her.

Opening the doors to the balcony to let the late fall air into the room, she took a deep breath and headed to the telephone. She picked up a silk robe on the way, wrapping it around herself before picking up the receiver.

"Hello...Room service? I'd like brunch for two, to room 412, thank you. Yes...yes, that suite. Those guests."

She giggled as she hung up. For some reason, there was apparently an ongoing competition between the young males working at the hotel as to who would be allowed to bring orders to room 412.

Turning around to look at the bed again, the curtains billowed inwards from the open door and obscured her view for a moment. It was all slightly dreamy. Like a movie. She headed up to the side of the bed and sat down, carefully.

Gabrielle turned her head and opened one eye, smiling sleepily.

"G'morning..."

Yohni brushed another lock of hair out of her girlfriend's face. "Didn't mean to wake you..." she said, lowly.

The equine made a purring sound and stretched a little. "It's okay. I need to get up, anyway...can't sleep the day away, can I?"

Yohni shook her head. "No. Not today. We've got one last day in Paris..."

"Sounds like a movie title..."

"You're right. We'd better remember that one. Perhaps Zig Zag can use it..."

Gabrielle giggled and closed her eyes momentarily. She was still tired, but Yohni was the best sight she could imagine waking up to.

"How about a shower?" she asked, smiling crookedly.

"Tease!" came the answer. Yohni giggled and folded her fingers into Gabrielle's. "I ordered brunch for the both of us, already. Shower will have to wait until after that, I think..."

"What time is it?"

"Almost ten thirty..."

Gabrielle nodded and smiled...it really was time to get up then.

"Brunch it is then," she mumbled and sat up in bed, without letting go of Yohni's paw. "I want a kiss first though."

Yohni smiled...and leaned forward.

###

Leo opened the door to the apartment. He was bleary-eyed. His mane was unkempt and his face was a mixture of worry and self loathing. His steps weren't too steady, either.

It was nearly five in the morning, and he hadn't been home yet, after visiting Emma.

The whole meeting in the cell played over and over in his head. The guards had told him to go home, and to wait until the next day. He'd told them, repeatedly, that he'd wait outside the cell all night if he had to, but he wasn't going home until he'd seen Emma. They had laughed it off. At first they thought he'd leave. They'd dropped a hint now and then that he must be uncomfortable, sitting there on the rather unpleasant chair. Wouldn't he like to get up and get something to drink? Some tea or coffee?

He'd stayed put.

He'd repeated, over and over again, that he wasn't moving until he'd been allowed to see Emma.

In the end, the guards had gotten annoyed and had told him to go away, rather brusquely.

Again, he'd repeated he wasn't going anywhere until he'd seen the mink.

Eventually, one of the guards had checked if she was still awake, and given Leo fifteen minutes.

How he'd managed to explain everything he needed to explain in that time...he didn't know. But he had done it. He'd wept. He'd hated himself. He'd been so angry...at himself. All he wanted...was to swap places with Emma. She didn't deserve to be there. HE did. He had been the cause of it all.

Then...Emma had dropped the bomb on him.

She'd looked at him for a long time, before taking one of his paws in both of hers and giving it a little squeeze. Then she'd told him that no...it wasn't his fault. No, he wasn't the cause of it all. That the cause of it all was Jeremy...and only him.

Leo had tried to argue...but to no avail. Emma had just raised a finger to his lips, with a little smile, making him stop.

She said that she forgave him...for any part, real or perceived, he might have played in the whole mess.

After the guards had told them the time was up...Leo had stumbled out. He'd barely sensed when the guards grumbled at him that next time, he would have to come during visiting hours like anyone else.

He'd barely sensed the cold night air, slamming into him as he got back into the street. The first thought in his mind was to get drunk. He needed several drinks to stiffen himself, for one thing. Getting drunk was probably the best idea he could come up with at that time.

It was a really bad idea, and he knew it.

It dawned on him that his parents still didn't know about all that had happened. For a moment, a chill of fear ran down his spine. How would his father react? All thoughts of drinking were banished from his mind, but he did need time to think.

He'd spent the entire night thinking.

Walking around, thinking.

He took off his windbreaker. He wasn't sure how to tell Lizzy about everything he'd thought of. He wasn't sure if she'd think he was running away from responsibility.

Heading into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and took out the milk. He poured himself a glass and downed it. Refilling his glass, he put the milk back in the fridge and sat down. He looked into the glass and considered how to go about telling Lizzy what had happened.

"How did it go?" the doe's voice said from the doorway.

Leo looked up. He hadn't noticed Lizzy entering the room. All his concerns and worries were redoubled. He somehow had to answer her, but he wasn't sure how to start.

"I...told her everything," he said, quietly. "What Esteban and I had done. I told her the truth. That it was all my fault. Everything..."

Lizzy pulled out a chair and sat down opposite the lion, reaching out to take one of his paws to give it a reassuring squeeze. "How did she respond?" she asked.

He'd known Lizzy would ask, but Leo had no idea how to answer that. He'd expected anything but forgiveness from Emma. Anger...hurt...a feeling of having been betrayed, certainly. Not forgiveness.

"She told me it wasn't my fault. That it was Jeremy's fault. That I had tried to do the right thing...and that I mustn't blame myself for that," he whispered. His voice was growing thick again. He didn't want to cry again, though. He'd wept too much already.

Lizzy nodded, slowly. "I kinda expected that of her. But you had to do this. Not just for your sake, but for hers too. You had to tell her the truth."

Leo didn't even nod. He knew the doe was absolutely right. The pain was less than when he'd left...he had to admit that, but it had been replaced by confusion.

"I...will be leaving tomorrow, Lizzy. I'll sleep...then I'll pack and get ready...and I'll head off to Pennsylvania first thing tomorrow," he said, quietly.

It took a moment, before Lizzy reacted. Then she nodded. "I think that's not a bad idea. You can't do any more for Emma as it is...and if you stay here, you'll tear yourself apart."

Leo looked down. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want you to think I'm running from my responsibility..."

Lizzy smiled and let go of the lion's paw. Then she got up and walked around the table. "Right now, you're going to get some sleep. And I'll be right there to see you off to Never-Neverland. Maybe you'll have fewer silly thoughts like that after getting a few hours of rest..."

Guiding Leo into the bedroom, she bit back her pain. She wanted to rant and yell and scream. She wanted to tell him he couldn't go. She wanted to sit on him.

But she knew he had to.

###

It wasn't every day of the week that Miranda had to stand to attention in front of a superior's desk, while being lectured about proper police procedure. Expressions such as 'I don't know how you normally do things in Columbus but in this precinct we play by the rules!' had been used...quite a few times, in fact.

When she sat down at her desk, she was anything but happy.

She was in Cincinnati on loan. A sort of exchange program for cops, was more like it. Fate would have it that she had been there when some of her friends got involved in a criminal case, and now she had to deal with it. She'd at least made sure she got the case, instead of some other fur with no knowledge of the rather...unique composition of types in Emma's circle of friends.

Thinking about it, she'd only met the mink a couple of times. Always at parties that either Gabrielle Ryder or Jean LeBrun had hosted.

She'd been a quiet, but very nice and friendly type. Even if Miranda tried to twist her mind in the most obscure ways, she couldn't see the mink as a cold blooded killer.

In other words, it was up to her...to make sure Emma didn't go to court. That it could be proved beyond all reasonable doubt that Emma had acted in self defense. So far, it seemed a reasonably open-and-close sort of case.

The problem, as Miranda knew only too well, was that the real battle wouldn't be fought in the courtroom. It'd be fought in Emma's mind.

"At least she's got good friends to lean on," she mumbled to herself and picked up the papers on her desk.

Getting William Pongo involved had angered the captain of the precinct. In fact, the anger hadn't subsided until Miranda calmly had reminded the irate officer what William Pongo's job had been prior to his career as a private investigator.

That had shut him up, effectively. But Miranda was well aware that she'd lost significant goodwill, and that her job would be up-hill from then on.

She rubbed her face. Perhaps if she got a cup of coffee and a five minute break, she'd be able to pick up her work again, and get something done.

###

Gabrielle leaned back and put a paw under her chin. She pondered the view in front of her a few seconds, before shaking her head.

"That look isn't good for you, Yohni..." she said, matter-of-factly.

Yohni looked at herself in the mirror again and turned around. "You sure?" she asked...sounding like she wasn't certain, herself.

The equine nodded and folded her arms across her chest. "Afraid so. Decency is fine, but...Yohni...a suit? You? Zig Zag can pull that off. I can because of my upbringing, but I'll be damned before I dress like that. But you're just...not the type."

The mongoose shrugged and looked over her shoulder at the equine behind her. "I think you're right. Ah well, too bad. It's not as if I haven't shopped my heart out already."

"Does that mean you think you've shopped enough??"

"Don't be silly, Gabby...there's no such thing as 'enough shopping'."

Gabrielle couldn't suppress a crooked grin as she turned to the sales assistant. "I think this'll be all then," she said. "Do you take credit cards?"

"Oui M'mselle...all major international cards," was the answer.

Gabrielle nodded and held out her credit card. Yohni had already gone back into the dressing room to change back into her own clothes.

Five minutes later, they were heading down the street. Dusk was already creeping up over the roofs of Paris. Gabrielle reached down and took her girlfriend's paw in her own, smiling contently. They stopped and looked at a few windows, but didn't go in anywhere. There was still time for dinner somewhere, though.

Somewhere romantic.

It was Paris, after all.

###

"It's only a week away..."

Miriam felt the beginning of long term panic start to rise in her throat. A week into the future, she would be Mrs. Jones...and somehow, it seemed like she hadn't made any preparations at all.

Not to mention it might all have to be postponed yet again. Emma was supposed to be one of the maids of honor and there was no way the vixen was going to have a wedding with one of her best friends in jail, awaiting a possible murder-trial. Fox had, fortunately, agreed. And luckily, since the whole ordeal could be postponed on less than 48 hours notice. It was just starting to grind on Miriam's nerves.

It seemed like the wedding might never actually come.

Always just one more reason to postpone. By now, she was sick and tired of postponing and she knew Fox felt the same way.

Jean smiled. She understood where her friend was coming from. They were sitting at a small table, in a café in the middle of Columbus. A couple of steaming cups stood in front of them. Jean's held tea, Miriam's hot chocolate.

"I know. Even if my own wedding is a little further away...I kinda feel the same way. 'Oh my God, I'll never get it all done in time'," she said and sipped her tea.

Miriam sighed and rubbed her face. "Exactly...that's exactly it."

Jean nodded and put the cup down, crossing her legs. "So...apart from the dress, what do you still need done?"

"Well, I have the food taken care of...except the cake. And the music has been dealt with too..."

"That's good. What will you do about the dress?"

Miriam smiled. "Well, I was hoping you, Lizzy and...and Emma...would come with me and pick it?" she asked. "There is one bridal store I really want to go to...they have the most amazing dresses, and it won't knock the bottom out of any budget, either..."

Jean nodded and picked up her tea again, sipping it once more. "Sounds good to me. When shall we do that?"

"I had hoped...for today. But I'm going to wait three more days, to see if they let Emma out of that cell..." Miriam answered with a sigh. "If not, I'll bring Lizzy and you. If they haven't let her out 48 hours before the wedding, we're postponing."

Jean nodded again. "All right..."

Miriam sipped her chocolate and fell quiet for a moment. "You think your father could do the cake on this short notice?" she asked, at last.

"If you didn't ask, I'd have been offended on his behalf," Jean grinned. "I think he'll be able to make something memorable, indeed."

"Not too sweet, though."

"I'll let him know."

Miriam smiled and sipped her chocolate again. "So how about you and Esteban? When will you get hitched?" she asked. "Did you set a date?"

"Not yet, but it won't be too far into the future, I can promise you that. But I do want Gabrielle back in the United States first..." Jean replied. "Hmm...I seem to have run out of tea. How about we drop by that bridal store now...not to pick anything in particular. Just to snoop around. After all, we're both getting married."

Miriam giggled and finished her chocolate. She looked around for a waiter to get the bill. "Count me in."

###

Emma had figured out the exact size of her cell. How far from the door to the end wall. How far from one side to the other. How tall you'd have to be to be unable to stand upright.

There wasn't really any danger of that. Even Giraffe's, and she didn't think there were that many of them in Colombus Ohio, rarely grew over eight feet in height. Even they could stand up in there. The problem was...after figuring that out, all she could do was either sleep, read the bible that was placed on the small table, or try to commit suicide by paper-cuts.

Emma was, in fact, bored.

For that reason alone, she wasn't upset when the prosecutor had her brought from her cell to talk to her.

She didn't like the looks of him, though. The prosecutor turned out to be a tall, snappily dressed gray wolf, with a nasty, oily smile. He'd introduced himself as Mr. Canis.

"And you are sure you don't want your own lawyer present, Miss Grey?" he asked, taking a seat across the table. "I do pardon the pawcuffs, but I am sure you can see why I think they're necessary."

"I'm sure I can see why you think so," Emma said. "I don't see why, myself. I have done nothing wrong. It's not necessary for my lawyer to be present. I intend to tell you the truth. I have nothing to hide."

Mr. Canis smiled his oily smile again and nodded. "Good. If you cooperate, I'm sure I can convince Mr. and Mrs. Mustela to void the demand for the death-penalty. You'll be able to stay alive...albeit in prison."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "You seem to assume, sir...that I am guilty of a criminal act?"

Mr. Canis laughed softly. It was the kind of completely mirthless, cold laughter. "Miss Grey, let's not play the game of Hollywood-movie-interrogation, please. I have the impression from your file...that you are an intelligent femme. You have a degree, as I understood it?"

"I'm a historian, yes..." Emma said, with a little shrug.

"Ah yes...quiet, unassuming type," Mr. Canis said, smiling that nasty little smile again.

Emma hung her head and swallowed. For a moment, she felt like she was being submerged in icy water. The smile on the wolf's face was beyond oily. He looked at her like a case-number. Like another coming victory. One for the statistics. At the back of her mind, something was screaming and clawing at her, that it was all hopeless. That she'd lose. That it was ALL HER FAULT. Again and again, it repeated that it was all her fault. She began to shiver. Then...another voice, a clearer one, spoke over the shouting one. Telling her not to buckle again. Not to be bullied again. Telling her she had value and worth, and that she was good enough. Emma noted that the new voice sounded peculiarly like Jean...

When she looked back up, she couldn't help a chuckle. She shook her head. "I'll tell you something, Mr. Canis..." she said and put her cuffed paws on the table, leaning forward a little.

"Go ahead, I'm all ears," the wolf replied and dutifully perked them upright.

"All my life, I've been the 'quiet, unassuming type'. I've been afraid of everyone, apologetic for merely living and existing. Then, three years ago I met someone who really was as unfortunate as I always thought I was...just for completely different reasons. Someone who really had been dealt the worst possible paw in the poker-game of life, if you'll pardon my pun. Meeting her made me realize that I shouldn't be that insecure. That I had no reason to be. Because if she could be strong, with a life like hers...then I certainly could too. And I started to change. I started growing some self esteem. Some confidence in myself and my own abilities..." Emma said, looking directly at the wolf in front of her, locking her eyes on his.

Mr. Canis tried not to look too bored. "I take it there is a point to all of this?"

"If you would hear me out, then I assure you there is," Emma continued, smiling crookedly. "I grew self esteem and confidence, like I said. Slowly, but surely I started to realize that I wasn't the ugly, stupid, useless little twerp I had always thought I was. My parents had told me I wasn't, but I had never listened. Now I realized they were right. When I met Jeremy about seven months or so ago, he was the first male who had ever shown a romantic interest in me..."

"I wonder why..." Mr. Canis mumbled. "Get on with it, please. I have questions to ask you. I don't have time to listen to your life story."

Emma laughed slightly. "You may wonder why, Mr. Canis. I, myself, couldn't care less about your opinion. Because you see...when Jeremy started hitting me, after about a month, he slowly beat the self esteem and my belief in myself out of me."

"So that's why you killed him?" Mr. Canis asked, folding his arms over his chest, leaning back. "As revenge?"

Emma shook her head. "No. I shot him because he was attempting to kill me. He came to my apartment, trying to kill me for what two other furs had done to humiliate him."

Mr. Canis smiled, overbearingly. "I read all about that, already. That doesn't really excuse cold blooded murder. Here's what I believe. Esteban Lopez and Leo Leon humiliated Jeremy Mustela. Jeremy then, shocked and bewildered, tried to go to the one place where he believed he would find understanding and warmth. Kindness and love. In short, to you. But as he arrived, you met him with a gun in your paw. He tried to escape, thereby knocking over most of the apartment in an attempt to make it to someplace safe where you couldn't get to him. But you shot him...six times. Once in the genitalia. My belief is that you shot him there first..."

It was impossible for Emma not to laugh. She shook her head and looked at the ceiling, trying to stop laughing for long enough that she could speak.

"Mr. Canis...you are incompetent," she said at last. "By your estimation, I would've killed Jeremy, and then inflicted the injuries I sustained...on myself afterwards. Broken ribs, a concussion, lacerations and numerous bruises...oh, not to mention that the finger marks on my throat, where he tried to strangle me, would have to be self inflicted too. Never mind that my arms can't bend around that way, and never mind that my strength would be sapped from lack of air before I got that far. You, Mr. Canis, are a joke. Now unless you have some serious questions to ask...let me go back to my cell so the police can do their work! I've had it with males thinking they can push me around, bully me and intimidate me. I've had it with anyone who thinks I'm their...fucking...doormat."

At that, she got up and looked towards the door.

The wolf rose as well. His lips were curled back in a snarl as he pushed his way past Emma. "We'll see who's incompetent. We'll see who's a joke. I'll see you in court, Miss Grey, and believe me I will be standing there watching when the needle plunges into your arm, as well!"

Emma didn't bother with a reply. For the first time in seven months, she felt good about herself.

###

When the plane finally took off, Yohni started breathing again. She found it easier this time, than flying from Berlin to Paris. She didn't feel the same need to cling on to the seat anymore.

"I must be getting used to this..." she said and looked at Gabrielle with a smile. "So...we'll be seeing the eternal city at last..."

"Yeah, just stay clear of the Vatican..." the equine said and winked, leaning back in her seat. She closed her eyes...a smile playing over her lips like she was thinking of something funny...or pleasant.

Yohni raised an eyebrow. "Good point. I doubt they'd take too kindly to you and me kissing or holding paws there..."

"Or what I like to wear. Did you know that even males can get arrested in the Vatican for wearing shorts?" Gabrielle asked, without opening her eyes.

"You're kidding me..."

"I wish I was."

"Shorts?"

"Imagine how they'd feel about one of your skirts?"

Yohni shook her head in disbelief. It was impossible not to laugh. "They'd put me away for life, wouldn't they?"

"I think there's a shortage of jails in the Vatican, Yohni. Unless you plan on spending time in the dungeon with the remnants of the Inquisition..." Gabrielle giggled.

"Oooh, a dungeon eh? Kinky! Do you think they have pink, fluffy pawcuffs too?" the mongoose asked, putting on her most saintly expression. It didn't work very well.

Gabrielle shook her head gravely and opened her eyes, looking at Yohni. "The Inquisition was officially disbanded in 1902, y'know...Jean told me once...you'd be doing the naughty with ninety nine year retired furs..."

"Ick...geriatric torturers, no thanks!"

"I have to remember that one. It'll make a good T-shirt..."

Yohni laughed again. "Planning on making your own line of Attitude-wear?"

Gabrielle smiled crookedly and shrugged. "I have maybe two or three years left in front of the lenses, Yohni...then I'll get my first wrinkles or the first slight sag of something that isn't meant to be sagging and then I have to look for something else to do."

That got a nod out of Yohni. A thoughtful one and the mongoose looked ahead. "Yeah...same goes for me. I wonder what I'll do with myself."

"Did you consider politics? You have more morals than four fifths of Congress," Gabrielle shrugged. She did smile, however.

"Only four fifths? I'll have to try harder. Perhaps the Vatican IS the place to go...St. Yohni sounds rather good."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes with a wide grin. "You have to be dead to be canonized, y'know. And I'm not letting you go just yet."

Yohni snapped her fingers. "Curses, foiled again. Politics or sainthood...what choices I have."

A flight attendant came up to the two femmes and smiled politely. "It's okay to unbuckle the seat belts, ladies..."

Gabrielle nodded. "Thank you Miss...would it be possible to get something to drink?" she asked and looked at the flight attendant with a warm smile.

"Naturally, Miss. What would you like?"

"Let's get a bottle of champagne and two glasses. We have something to celebrate..." Gabrielle said and leaned back again.

The flight attendant nodded and moved off, leaving Yohni looking after her with a confused expression on her face. The mongoose let herself drop back in her seat again, looking at Gabrielle.

"What do we have to celebrate?"

Gabrielle just smiled enigmatically. "Oh...I got an answer to an email I sent when we were still in Copenhagen..."

"Really? What did it say?" Yohni asked, still not getting the idea.

"Let's just have a glass of champagne...and enjoy the flight."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

The smile never left Gabrielle's face. But she stayed quiet.