At the DeMarcos’:

Ava *puts on her favourite black dress on the one Don loves her in but it is not for him but its for another. She catches a glimpse at herself in the mirror. And she still cannot get over the fact that she is hardly showing any signs of her pregnancy. The only signs that are there is the little excess weight she has put on and the ample chest she has developed.  However her recent conquests have yet to complain. For one last time she sorts her hair out and finally she applies her lipstick. If there is one thing she has learnt from Don is that it is that you should always smell the great only the best perfume will do. She applies 4 sprays of her Euphoria perfume that is enough a no more and no less. Now the time has come for her to give her next conquest the greatest pleasure he will ever experience. On that note she rubs her very small bump and whispers not long to go now my child we will soon have our next fix.  She opens the bed room door and makes her way down the stairs gracefully. Now that her mind is set on her next conquest she has a confidence boost that she needs to do her duty. Ava stops in her tracks as she sees Don who looks up at her and she smiles at him, speaks in seductive tone of voice*  Hello my love  *she kisses him on the cheek as she can smell the tarts he has had.* You look tired my love why don't you go rest *she runs her fingers through his hair and then she moves them down his neck just like Don would do to a woman*  Now my love I need to go out I have some needs that need to be met.  *her perfume surrounds him the smell is seductive*  My love you look as though you are in a trance what is wrong?

Don Juan:  I need a rest, my darling.  *thinks she has dressed herself all for him and smiles charmingly at her*  Don't you have some needs to be met at home, too?  *he runs his hand along her arm knowing that his touch can send every woman quivering and begging for more.  But at the same time he frowns.  Everything in her is perfect but she seem to have put on some weight.*  Some spiritual refreshment for the soul - it is music that you need.  Dancing - and singing.  *and he puts his arm on her waist and takes her hand as if leading her to a dance*  What do you say?  *he murmurs slowly and sensuously, touching her neck with his lips* 

Ava:  Of course I have needs at home too *smiles and puts her finger on his lip* I have lots of needs here and you do an excellent job at meeting them *but tonight he wont satisfy her she needs another she needs her chosen lover touch.*  Why are you frowning my love *she runs her finger down his neck and down his chest* I can’t have my pretty baby frown now can I? *Smiles and kisses him. He knows she can’t resist him when he touches her neck* yes you could say I need spiritual refreshment my love *she wraps her arm around his neck and runs her hand through his hair. She takes his left arm and runs it down her back so his hands can touch her curves*  Now what music shall we have?  *She pulls herself away and puts on a CD of Spanish guitar. She returns to Don with track three playing*  My love I picked this CD up some time ago I hoped one day we could dance in the moonlight together.

Don Juan *leads her out on the lawn, leaving to door open so they can here the music.  It is broad daylight, but he pulls her close and whispers in her ear*  Can you see the stars in the dark velvet sky?  And the moon pouring it's light upon your face making you look like a fairy.  *he starts to dance with her*  And can you feel the warm summer breeze from the ocean, and can you smell the fragrance of the white gardenias and the blood red roses in the night air ... *he starts to hum, leading her still*  And can you feel my heart beating for you as I can hear yours?  Your skin is like alabaster and your eyes are like smouldering coals from the pyre of our passion ... Can you feel the flames as it catches fire again?

Ava *looking into his eyes* Don you have a way with words it’s been a long time since we have danced like this. *She smiles at him and she puts her head on his chest* My love, I feel like it’s only the two of us here no one else *smiling she thinks to herself can Don feel anything with their unborn baby is it affecting him in any away.*  Sometimes it’s nice to escape like this just the two of us. *she feels a sharp pain in her stomach, which causes her to double over.  The pain takes her breath away. She looks up at Don and grabs his hand* Hellm it hurts.

Don Juan *stops.  The moon and stars fade from the sky and the sun shines bright again*  What hurts?  Come, Ava, lie down.  *he grabs her, lifts her up and carries her back in*  Shane, Edna!  An emergency!  Call the ambulance!

Edna *hearing Don call*  what’s wrong Don, what’s all this shouting for you’ll wake the children.  *She looks down at Ava*  the incarnation the incarnation oh dear the incarnation.

Ava *glaring*  I am fine just in pain *Ava goes into the fetal position and pulls Don close* just ignore her talk she’s crazy.

Edna:  We must not take her to the hospital they will experiment on her and father Lovejoy will be annoyed it must remain pure. The incarnation must remain untouched by drugs.

Ava *still in pain*  will you shut up Edna please Don make her stop talking.

Edna *shouts back at Ava*  I was sent over from Mexico to watch you and guide you and that is what I am going to whether you like it or not. Now if you don’t tell him I will what will it be.

Ava *starts to cry* Don *whimpers*

Don Juan *backs off, looking at Edna with suspicion*  What incarnation?  What are you babbling about?  And I thought you were just a maid for household duties.  If you are something else, be forward with or .. *and he pulls out his sword and points it at Edna's throat*

Edna *gulps*  my name is Sister Edna Luke I come from the Convento de la Encarnación. We are dedicated to you and your bloodline Don the worlds greatest lover bloodline. The convent was step up many many years ago Don we are here to keep the bloodline going on. Your Mother is head of the convent along with her husband Father Love-Joy. *She backs away to the chest of draws and pulls a book out* Here Don, take it, take the book look at it. *Still feeling scared* we teach the world about you. We have waited for this moment for a long time Don your wife is carrying the next in line Don. *smiles nervously*  She is carrying the next generation’s world’s greatest lover, we know its yours the sacred candle burns brightly. The teachings say that when she is with child she will take a part of your world’s greatest lover with her so she is able to carry your child. Ava has the power to seduce any man she wishes well she has no choice over the matter. The incarnation decides when she needs her next conquest she is due for another conquest soon and I believe that the incarnation is getting angry as he is yet to have what he needs.

At Arwen:

Donnie *enters Arwen and quickly spots Grace standing out on the deck with her back turned towards her; he puts down the picnic-basket and quietly walks up behind her.  He puts his arms around her waist and gently kisses her neck*  Hi beautiful.

Grace *smiles as she feels his arms closing around her and tilts her head to the side*  ‘Ello luv … ye should be careful that me husband don’t catch us … *turns*  Oh it is you!

Donnie *glares a little*  That wasn’t funny!

Grace *grins*  It were a little funny.  *Gently touches his face and kisses him, then hugs him tightly.  She spots the picnic basket on table in the living room; looks at him*  A picnic?  Does that mean I actually get te spend some time with ye?

Donnie *smiles* I made the executive decision to take the rest of the day off.  *brushes her hair back as he gazes at her lovingly*  But the food can wait.

Grace *innocently*  Oh, ye ‘ave something else planned then?

Donnie *Nods*  Yes, I plan to start with dessert.  *kisses her in a way that lets her know that he did indeed miss her*

Grace *giggles a little as he finds that special spot on her neck*  My favourite type o’ dessert.  *takes his hand and smiles at him as she leads him upstairs to their bedroom*  

At the Rainey house:

Mort *slams down the phone, thinks to himself, Why the hell can’t Dave just leave him alone?  His life has changed since the day he met Mary.  All he wanted to do was spend the rest of his live with her and write his novels.  And the hat, God why did she have to find it?  Every time he looked at the damned thing it would send chills down his back.  It gave him some kind of flashbacks that he didn’t understand.  He knew he overreacted when he saw her sitting there with it on her head, but he couldn’t help himself.  He hears the doorbell ring.  She must have forgotten her key.  He runs to the door, throws it open.  It isn’t Mary, it’s a UPS driver.*

Driver:  I have a delivery for Mary Rainey.

Mort:  Ok, bring it in here.  *driver brings in a huge package.  He had to use a dolly because it was so large.  It’s wrapped with brown paper as if it was a huge picture; fragile and handle with care are written all over it.*

Driver:  I have one more in the truck.  I’ll go get it now.  *soon returns with what looks like a large piece of furniture, a chest of drawers of some sort.  Mort can’t tell what it is because it’s all wrapped up in a very old quilt with a large rope tied around it.  Driver has him sign for the delivery, leaves*

Mort *thinks to himself, Funny, Mary didn’t tell him to expect a delivery.  He wonders if she knew it was coming. The writing on both pieces isn’t anything like hers.  God, he wishes she would come home.  She’s been gone for hours now.  The Wonkas have no use for him, that he knows.  What if they turned her against him?  What if she never came home?  He couldn't bear to think of it.  He made an oath that he would never hurt her again if she would only just come home.*

At Chateau Blanchefort:

Netta *looks proudly in the mirror at the uniform she designed all by herself.  She cut it from the various bolts of beautiful material that Wilson set out for her, and she basted it together, so it’s really just a prototype and would fall apart in a stiff wind; but she thinks it’s very fine.  A purple shift with red sleeves, strips of gold sewn onto the upper sleeves to resemble epaulets, a royal blue Peter-Pan style collar.  She shaped silver buckles for her shoes out of aluminum foil, and she carefully cut silver star-shapes from the foil, which she glued to each collar-flap.  But her favorite part of all is her hat.  She didn’t make it herself, Wilson had found an old beret somewhere in the attic.  She had brushed it off, finding underneath the thick dust a fine quality, red felt.  She had carefully sewn a length of wide black velvet ribbon around the rim, forming a sort of hatband; this she had sewn painstakingly, no baste-stitching here.  She’s delighted with the result, and as she stands before the mirror, she thinks to herself how excited Wilson will be when she shows him … and she thinks that perhaps even Commander Portsmith will have to agree that it’s an excellent uniform and should be completed by proper tailors at once.  She thinks for a fleeting moment how much fun it would be if the Commander would want a matching one, but she knows that will never happen; the collar is much too high, the skirt much too long.*

*She turns, looks over her shoulder at the back, satisfied that the hem is even all around.  She frowns as she turns to face herself in the mirror again; something more is needed, a finishing touch.  She brightens as it comes to her:  a feather!  Of course!  Commander Portsmith always has a feather in her hat, no matter what else she’s wearing, no matter where she’s going.  Netta dashes back to the big table, looks through all the things Wilson set out, but she sees only a couple of small feathers, the kind she’s seen in gentlemen’s hatbands.  She furrows her little brow, thinking hard, then she finally decides she’ll borrow one from the Commander’s wardrobe.  Part of her is nervous about this decision; but another look in the mirror dissuades all fear.  After all, the Commander wanted to see her in a uniform.  Think how admirable she’ll find it, that Netta thought all on her own to add something of Portsmith’s to her uniform design.  The Commander likes seeing something of herself in the child, Netta knows this.  She remembers how approving Portsmith was when she lost her temper, yelled that word, and ran away from her … *

Netta *leaves the room, wanders slowly through the silent halls, admiring the statues and paintings, finally finds what she believes is Portsmith’s home office.  She looks around, nods to herself as she sees a hat rack with many hats hanging on it, all of which have wonderful feathers.  She pulls a chair over, jumps up on it, grabs one of the hats with a large white feather; she pulls on it gingerly, relieved that it’s easily removed from the hat without anything ripping.  She places the hat back on the rack, jumps to the floor with the feather clutched in one hand, then she sees another mirror.  Thinks to herself, she’s never seen a house with so many mirrors!  Commander Portsmith must constantly think she has spinach in her teeth or something.  She steps over to the mirror, takes off the beret, manages to stick the feather into the black band, puts the cap on again, beams with pleasure at the beautiful completed ensemble.  She turns to leave, then starts noticing so many interesting things.  She glances toward the door, thinks, perhaps if she doesn’t disturb anything, she can look around a bit.  She looks at a few items on shelves that don’t interest her much after first examination; tilts her head sideways to try to read the spines of the books in the bookcases, but most of the words are too big for her, or seem to be in a funny language.  She starts thinking that the hats are probably the best things in the room after all.  Then, just as she’s about to leave, she trips over something creating a bump in what the Commander had told her is a very rare and expensive Persian carpet; she starts as she hears a sound, looks over and sees an entire wall automatically sliding back with a soft whirr, exposing a series of screens behind it.  Her eyes widen, and she smiles.  Television!  She didn’t know the Commander had a TV.  Once she had asked her about it, and Portsmith had sniffed and said something like*  Child, cultured personages such as myself don’t have the time for a television machine.  *she grins as she remembers this; she knew it all along, the Commander is much more human than she lets on!  She walks up to the wall full of screens, wondering how to switch any of them on.  She doesn’t see buttons of any kind.  She runs her hands around the edges of the screens, then jumps back as they all flicker on at once.  She watches as various images come through, and she puzzles over what kinds of programs these could be – she sees a grocery store, a hospital lobby, one or two hospital rooms that appear to be empty at the moment … she sees a sitting room, very Victorian, though she raises an eyebrow as she spots a shovel resting in one corner of the room … she sees a bathroom, also very Victorian, with a claw-foot tub and a small table next to it with an ashtray and a glass, but the tub is empty.  She sees what looks to be the inside of a warehouse, nothing going on there; another screen shows the stone circle outside.  One of the more interesting screens shows a barroom scene, with scantily dressed women wearing garish makeup, talking and laughing loudly.  She feels a disappointment as she realizes there are no cartoons or good fantasies.  Everything looks very boring.  She looks around the room, thinks she may as well leave.  She'll find Wilson and tell him what happened; he’ll understand that she wasn’t being naughty, it was an accident.  She turns to leave, then a familiar voice catches her ear.  She looks at the screen, sees that it’s Commander Portsmith -- she’s in an office with a woman in a very fancy suit, and a good-looking young man who was once pointed out to her, Charlie she thinks is his name.  She watches and listens, growing more frightened at their words:*

If a man has committed such a serious crime he must be punished for it.  You can talk as much you will, but I will always uphold the law.  No matter what happens.

One word suffices.  Bitterfeld.

That blasted pirate's bastard ... just wait till I get home.  Give me the papers on the Abberline case, Charlie.  It's over.

But .. but the body ... and all ...

No papers.  No case.

But the body?

There is no dead body.  There was no dead body.  Get rid of it and dump it somewhere.  Now.

Netta *claps her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear more, too frightened to make a sound.  She dashes from the room, the feather flying out of her hat and fluttering to the floor in front of the wall of screens.  She runs through the fancy halls with the high ceilings, past the statues and paintings that she usually walked past slowly, with a sense of awe.  She makes her way to her room, quickly changes back into her own clothes.  She finds a large shawl, spreads it out, throws a few belongings in it, including her beautiful new uniform, ties up the ends securely to make a bundle.  She checks to make sure she still has the picture of her daddy in her pocket; it’s still safe and sound.  She puts the hat back on her head, and despite her mounting fear she takes a moment to arrange it carefully.  She picks up the bundle, leaves the room, making her way quickly but quietly through the castle.  She finds the room that was the office of the man who’s so crazy about the dusty old books, remembering that its large window opens easily.  She sets the bundle down, opens the window, lifts the bundle out onto the ground, climbs out after it.  Slides the window back into place, turns and runs from the property as fast as she can, her heart pounding in her chest.  She doesn’t stop till she is far from the castle, past the town centre, on into the woods, then she hears a rushing river.  She follows the sound and sees a pretty little white house, on the edge of the property of a larger frame house.  She tries the door of the small house first, nobody answers.  She walks cautiously to the large house, stretches up on tiptoe, rings the bell.  She braces herself, ready to bolt if the person who answers looks threatening in any way*

Gili *opens the door, looks down, smiles at her*  Well, hello little one.  Who are you, what’re you doing here?  Where’s your mama and papa?

Netta *looks up at the handsome man, and everything she’s just been through, along with her harried escape and the distance she ran, combine and she starts to tremble.  Her eyes roll back, and she slumps to the ground, unconscious.  Gili’s smile fades; he quickly crouches down, gathers her up, picks up her bundle, takes her inside, locks the door*