"An aperitif, Mademoiselle Kris?"
"Why thank you, Hercule. You're such a dear." *scoots up in sun lounge and adjusts gold bikini*
"Monsieur le Duc asked me to bring these to you." *handing over a small stack of papers*
"Wonderful! I've been waiting for these reports." *beginning to read* "Goodness. No wonder he was the head of an elite band of spies. He is very, very thorough."
"I believe he mentioned that Monsieur Valek was able to assist him after he had completed the task Mademoiselle had requested of him."
"Oh." *a bit distracted* "I should have realised those two would get on given their lines of work."
"Indeed. Although I am uncertain as to whether Monsieur Valek would have used his other, err, skills in much the same way he has since arriving in this *grimace* place."
*stops and looks over sunglasses* "Hercule, I believe you've made your feelings quite clear about your current environment. *going back to flicking through papers* "Did Dalziel, I mean Royce, say anything else to you?"
*tugging down waistcoat in embarrassment* "He reported seeing Monsieurs Valek and Sebastian arrive back to the hut in the early hours of the morning. They should be stirring shortly. Shall I see if they are awake?" *seeing a nod* "Very well then." *bows and departs*
*a gravelly voice from the next lounge* "You know, it won't take him long to find out the whole of it. Once a copper, always a copper."
*looks towards the voice* "What on earth are you talking about, Sam?"
*leans back and lights up a cigar* "Besides the fact that I'd dearly love to see you meet a certain Patrician of Ankh-Morpork at some stage, I'm talkin’ about you getting our arses kicked."
*waving a hand to a figure practising katas on the beach* "I'd imagine the Chinese God who invented martial arts would tip the odds in our favour should any of the fighting you're so worried about occur."
*turns in lounge to face Sam* "What are you really getting at?"
"Well *watching a smoke ring float up into the air* I've been wonderin' if that 'task' you gave to Valek has somethin’ to do with the little botany trip you got that fella... whassisname... Spike... to make when we first arrived. *takes another puff* Must be handy havin’ both a space pilot with, err, interestin’ connections and a poison expert around, eh."
"If you say so, Sam, although I think you do Valek a disservice. He enjoys hanging around the other heroes and listening to their tall tales." *faint smile* "Is there anything else?"
"I reckon that... that..."
"Yeah, him. Sebastian. He's probably knackered from those classes he's been paid to give by those gentlemen who've suddenly found themselves... well, you know... *makes flopping hand gesture* "It's interestin' how it only takes a couple of lessons before those men are working like normal."
*mutterbelievemetheywillbeevenbetterthannormalmutter* "You must admit that Sebastian is uniquely qualified for the role."
*nods* "Sure. It's just also interestin' that those couple of lessons allows time for the Duke to get all those ladies' secrets together for Sebastian's 'final lesson'." *pointing at the papers*
*faint smile turns into a grin* "Remind me to send a message to Spike that he needs to get certain toys for a couple of kinky redheads as well as some extra lube for a Canadian lady who apparently doesn’t hate ménage as much as she says she does."
*places papers on side table and picks up aperitif* "And?"
*snorting* "It's like I said. When the ladies and fellas find out the truth, you're gonna get our arses kicked."
"Do you really think so? Or do you think the ladies especially will be too grateful, not to mention satiated, to care? I imagine they may well want their men to continue with their lessons." *ponders* "Perhaps they may even offer their books (or drinks) in trade."
*shaking head at the unrepentant obsession, stands up and stubs out cigar in sand* "Oh, I almost forgot. You wouldn't happen to know where the tall, skinny fella with the big scythe is, would you?"
"I'm not certain. You know HE has other duties."
"I don't s’pose those 'duties' would have anything to do with a certain missin’ cop from Miz Lisabea's hut, would it?"
*sips drink and raises eyebrow* "Now why would I know that?"
*walks off toward hut* “Yep, arses kicked for sure."