The Russian bar was evident from the cheers and loud music coming from inside that could be heard as soon as Charlie and Luke turned the corner into the street. Charlie was already feeling a little lightheaded and, in the back of her head, she was aware that she had to go extremely slowly as far as the shots in this bar were concerned. However, there was now a spring in her step and a smile on her face, as was there on Luke's; nothing was going to put a dampener on their mood.

"Try to keep a low profile in here, will you, Luke?" she laughed, pushing open the door and entering the frivolity inside.

"What ya talkin' about? Discretion is my middle name," he grinned.

The room was packed full of people standing, chatting, laughing and drinking the shots that the bar was famous for. The long bar to the left of them as they entered, which stretched the whole length of the room, was the one of the main focuses for the partygoers, the second being the small stage opposite the bar with a DJ entertaining the crowd and the small dancing area in front of him. Some random people had got up onto the dance floor, trying to master the art of traditional Russian dancing, whilst another man with a thick accent was singing a lively Russian song over the Karaoke system.

As Charlie and Luke edged their way through the crowds, Charlie pointed out to Luke,

"So, it's only really you who could do with disguising your accent then."

He turned to her. "Oh no it aint, I'm French, you're Swedish, that was the deal."

Sneaky woman.

"I don't remember making any such deal," she said to herself. "I suppose you've thought up some source of inspiration for this," she shouted out to him over the music.

"Yeah, as matter of fact I have," he replied. "You?"

"Hmm, at a push," she said ruefully. "What's your inspiration then?" she asked, curious.

"You'll see," he came back mysteriously.

When they finally reached the bar, Luke found himself standing in front of a rather frighteningly well-built Russian-looking barwoman. He glanced down the bar wistfully towards the two other petite blonde staff before catching a glimpse of Charlie's face. She motioned to the stocky woman in front of him, prompting him to order.

"Oh boy," he mumbled. This woman didn't look like she had much of a sense of humour. "French, eh?" he said, reconfirming this with Charlie dubiously.

Charlie was now smiling. It was worth struggling with a Swedish accent just to hear Luke trying to hoodwink this woman into believing that he was French! She nodded. "That was the deal."

"Hmm, well, you aint gettin' away without talkin' Swedish then neither," he replied, finally turning to acknowledge the barwoman.

He took a deep breath and threw himself into the role with gusto.

Holding his hand out to shake hers, he said, "Allo, 'ow are yu? Ay um deleeted to meek your acquaintonce. Ay am Pierre, et this is Ma Cherie, 'ilda."

At this point, Charlie had turned her back to the bar and was trying her hardest not to burst out laughing. Luke could see her shoulders shaking with the effort. He grinned.

"C'mon Hilda, say hello to the nice lady," he whispered into Charlie's ear.

"It's "Allo, Allo, isnt it?" she whispered back with a giggle.

"Eh?"

"Your inspiration," she clarified, laughing.

He looked befuddled.

"Maybe not. Oh, never mind."

Forcing herself to calm down enough to speak to the woman, at last she turned to her with a smile… oh but this was going to be near on impossible to hold back the laughter now that it was her turn.

"Hurrlo," she began, her smile broadening. She bit her lip to stop it. "I um Hilda vrom sveden."

Luke made no pretence of not finding this hilarious, apart from apologizing to the woman with some lame excuse like,

"lille 'Ilda, she makes me laugh with de joy of de life."

"You want a drink or not?" the barwoman asked in a decidedly English accent.

"Oh yeah," Luke replied with surprise before returning to his French disguise. "I wood loov a vodka for moi, an' a vodka 'ere for my lille 'unny bun," he turned to glance at Charlie and took her hand in his, "my lille sweetness ov life…" He placed his other arm around her shoulder. Again she found the laughter bubbling up inside, "…my raison d'être, my…" And then, without warning, he dipped her in a dramatic embrace, "…Lille Swedish turneep."

She gave into the laughter then, trying to speak through it. "It's p…p…"

He grinned, looking down at her. "P…p…p what?"

"P...p… Pep…" For goodness sake. She took in a deep breath and finally got the words out. "Pepé le Pew!" she laughed, "Put me down you idiot!"

"Ah yes, aw well yoo know me," he replied, returning her to a normal standing position.

The bar woman tutted and asked reluctantly, "Any particular flavour you want?"

"Any flavoor?" he asked Charlie.

She thought for a moment, scanning the bottles behind the bar. "Dink I'll huv a lurmon one," she concluded.

Luke did a double take, asking under his breath, "A what?"

Her throat was now aching in its attempts to remain serious. "A lurmon one."

He chuckled, turning back to the woman with a shrug. "She'll have a 'lurmon' one."

The woman stared at him for a second or two before turning to pick out one of the bottles from behind the bar and turning back to pour two shots for them.

Charlie's eyes flicked to Luke. "Yu pud du vodka in du glaas…"

Luke mouthed. "What?"

Charlie rolled her eyes and said with more emphasis, "Yu pud du vodka in du glaas, den stur it with du hurdy gurdy."

Finally, the barwoman handed over the two shots, pointing to Charlie and saying, "Muppets, Swedish Chef." Then she pointed to Luke. "Pepe Le Pew. Very funny." Then she turned and left them.

They both burst out laughing.

"Busted!" Luke exclaimed, picking up the shots, handing her one, throwing an arm around her shoulder and turning them from the bar. "You chose the Swedish Chef?" he said incredulously.

She shrugged. "I couldn't think of one single other Swedish person. How many Swedish people do you know?" she came back.

"Met a few Swedish broads before," he answered.

"Oh really."

He shrugged, "Well, at least one." He thought for a moment. " Charlie."

"Hmm," she replied, eying the shot glass in her hand and wondering about the wisdom of drinking it.

"You remember Princess Leia in that movie?"

"Hmm."

"Well, she had kinda Swedish hair, kinda liked that. Don't suppose you could…"

"No Luke," she interrupted.

"Nah, didn't think so."

He held up his shot glass to her, "Well, here's to cementing European relations."

She clinked with him and drank, cringing slightly at the taste before replying, "Let's just hope that you don't finish the night wearing cement shoes."

He pointed to her. "Very quick that was Charlie."

"Oh thank you," she replied with false modesty.

"Hey," he went on, "You know what this kinda thing reminds me of?" he said, motioning around the room.

"What?" she asked.

"James Bond," he replied.

She frowned with confusion.

"Sure, load of Russians and me," he said.

"You? You're American," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'd make a great James Bond, don't ya think?"

She laughed. "No Luke, James bond did things with style and finesse, not with a sledge hammer and a JCB."

"If ya had a JCB, ya aint gonna need a sledge hammer, are ya?" he replied pettily.

She tutted.

"Anyway, ya know I'd make a great James Bond."

"Oh I do, do I?" she replied.

"Yeah, 'cause of how good I am at rescuin' the ladies," he announced, the alcohol having loosened his tongue. "Using my usual consummate skill." He blew on his fingernails and polished them on his shirt.

She turned to him with disbelief. "Oh really, well I seem to remember rescuing your hide before… on many occasions," she emphasized.

Oh no, what had he said?

"You aint understandin' what I'm sayin'," he backtracked.

"What are you saying then, Luke?" she frowned.

What was he saying? He'd obviously said something wrong. He thought back. Err...

"Now don't start," he pointed to her defensively, "aint nothin' wrong with a guy wantin' to rescue a woman. It's jus natural."

Of all the cheek!

"You, are just downright sexist!" she accused.

He prickled. "No I aint, the word for it is realistic. Facts are facts."

She stared at him, the anger building.

"I'm not even listening to you anymore," she said, turning her back on him suddenly and placing her hands on her hips.

"Charlie? Stop bein' childish," he said, watching her stubborn stance. "Charlie… Charlie?" Oh no, perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut. "Okay, I may not have said it right but... Charlie? Wont ya listen to what I'm tryin' to say?"

Oh this was bad. Very bad.

"Charlie?" he said again, tapping her on the shoulder. She shrugged his hand off and remained with her back to him, reaching out to grab another shot from a waiter who was handing out free samples as he passed.

Luke growled with frustration and grabbed one of the same shots as the guy passed him.

Both of them drank, still not facing each other.

"I aint sayin' you weren't a good partner. You were one of the best," he assured her, hoping for the good mood to return.

She turned then angrily. "One of the best?

Okay, she was probably the best, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"You were a good partner, alright?" he said.

She glared at him. "Did you have any other partners who covered for you so many times, eh? Or who risked prison for you… so many times?" she stressed.

He ran a hand through his hair in annoyance.

"And by the way," she went on, "Don't you think it's about time that you told Barker about the …" she glanced around herself and then lowered her voice, "Body?"

"Yeah, funny enough, I have thought about that," he said sarcastically.

"Oh good, because if you think that I'm going to do it for you, you're very much mistaken," she replied.

He sighed. "What you gettin' so worked up about?" he asked. "I was tryin' to say that it aint that…" He fizzled out, his mind a whizz of vodka, her stubbornness and his fading chances of any passion that night. Then he glanced around the room, looking for some kind of solution. To hell with it.

"Right," he said suddenly, "You asked for this." Then he pushed his way through the crowd towards the DJ console.

She piped up then, calling after him, "Luke? Where are you going?"

She watched as he whispered something to the DJ.

What was he doing?

It wouldn't make any difference; he was an arrogant, arrogant man. He could do what he wanted.

Then, moments later, the unmistakable sound of the James Bond theme tune could be heard.

Idiot! He was going to end up with cement shoes and see if she would care!

Then he moved to take the microphone and despite herself, a giggle escaped.

Bloody idiot!

The opening Bond theme then faded and slowed into another tune, a slower into, but she suspected that it sounded still much like a James Bond song.

James bond indeed. Stupid American!

Luke coughed into the microphone. "Charlie," he called.

She covered her face with one hand.

"Charlie," he called again, "Are ya listenin' now? She never listen's to me," he said to the crowd.

"Ahhhhhh," they responded.

She tutted and placed her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"See, the lengths I have to go to," he complained. "This is for you," he gestured to her with a cheeky grin.

Oh good Lord! He was actually going to sing!

She folded her arms and looked on, determined to be unimpressed, as from the stage, he began the song.

Nobody does it better…

She shook her head at him in disbelief.

Makes me feel sad for the rest…

Nobody does it half as good as you,

He gestured to her, grinning that arrogant Luke grin.

A laugh escaped but she checked herself and tutted.

Baby, you're the best.

He winked at her.

Oh no, no. Don't do that. That's not fair, making her feel all funny like that. She wasn't falling for it!

He still went on.

I wasn't lookin', but somehow you found me,

I tried to hide from your love light.

He grinned.

But like heaven above me,

He gestured above...

the spy who loved me,

And back to her.

Is keeping all my secrets safe tonight.

Too right she was! She giggled. He was so insufferable!

And nobody does it better

Though sometimes I wish someone could

He glared at her, a pretence at annoyance

Nobody does it quite the way you do…

Why'd you have to be so good?

He gestured once more, shaking a fist at her.

She chuckled.

The way that you hold me, whenever you hold me

He mouthed, "She don't ever do that," receiving sympathetic sounds from the crowd.

There's some kind of magic inside you…

He pointed.

That keeps me from runnin', but just keep it comin'

He gestured for more.

She rose an eyebrow and grinned back at him. What was she doing? She shouldn't encourage him.

How'd you learn to do the things you do?

Totally torn between feeling quite flattered and at the same time, convincing herself that he was only trying to get one up on her, she turned then to see a familiar smiling face.

"Oh, it's you," she said, to Eddie.

"He's singing to you," Eddie observed in amazement.

She tutted. "It's just Luke trying to prove a point," she assured him.

"What, that, "Nobody does it better"?" he quoted.

She chuckled. "Well, think he's trying to get on my good side."

"Is it working?" he asked.

She appeared uncertain.

"You should be so flattered, I know I would be," he said.

"Hmm, well, I would be too if I didn't think he was just making fun of the situation," she answered.

Eddie laughed. "Okay, so he's playing to the crowd, but heed my wise words Charlie, no man gets up and sings to a woman unless there is some truth in the words they are singing. It's written somewhere in the straight guys guide to life."

She laughed. "It is?"

"Yep," he smiled.

She thought about what he'd said and wondered if that were really true; did Luke really mean any of that?

She frowned. "But he's always so... he thinks that just because he's a man, he's better at the job than I am, and he won't let me do anything. But he seems to forget how many times I've saved him," she protested.

"Charlie, I think he just wants to protect you, that doesn't mean he doesn't think that you're good at your job," Eddie appealed to her.

Her mind automatically flashed back to the scene that morning when he'd locked her in the garage... and then to another scene that she hadn't thought about for a long time; him calling out to her,

"We know each other; we know each other's moves before we do them. C'mon, we're a team; we're partners... I need you!"

Eddie watched as Charlie's expression became distant before flickering with emotion. She stared at the stage in front of her as Luke sang, and then she slowly leant back against the edge of a table behind her, a slight frown on her face. Eddie grabbed her and himself a shot as another waiter passed and he handed one to her. She took the shot glass without even looking at it as her focus remained ahead of her with a far away look on her face.

"Here," Eddie said, holding his glass up to her, "Cheer up."

She shook her head abruptly and laughed, clinking and drinking, but returning her attention to the song.

And nobody does it better
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody does it half as good as you
Baby, baby
Darling, you're the best...

Baby, you're the best

Finally, the song ended and she was thrown back into reality again when, much to Charlie's annoyance, Luke received a thunderous applause from a crowd of women.

He handed back the microphone and approached her, looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Bet ya didnt know I could sing like that, did ya?" Luke said with a self satisfied grin.

"Oh, is that what it was?" she replied.

Eddie's face filled with alarm as he gestured behind Luke's back for Charlie to stop. He thought she was going to take it easy on Luke after their little chat. He could see this conversation deteriorating already.

"Yeah, the ladies over there seemed to appreciate my talent well enough," Luke came back.

Eddie darted behind Charlie and made a similar gesture to Luke, mouthing, "No, no, bad subject."

Charlie went silent for a moment, staring at Luke while both Luke and Eddie tensely anticipated her response.

"Well, you weren't singing to them, were you?" she finally said.

Eddie looked pleasantly surprised, putting a thumbs up to Charlie.

Luke thought about his answer. "No, I wasn't," he admitted.

Eddie looked thrilled.

"But then, it was just a song," he shrugged, causing Eddie to cover his face with frustration.

"No, no, no! What on earth is wrong with you two?" Eddie said, dropping his hands.

"Ask him," she replied.

"Ask her," he answered.

Eddie growled. "Right you two, stay there," he ordered, rushing away to the bar in search of a solution to this dilemma. He'd better find one fast!

"They're going to end up arguing and going home separately. Then Charlie will be back with bloody Richie... and Luke will be back to New York... and no more top secret cases... and no big white wedding for me to coordinate..." Eddie mumbled to himself, waiting to be served. "Why can't they leave well alone? What's with all the competition... and stubbornness... both of them, as stubborn as stubborn could possibly be!"

Finally, Eddie pushed his way into a slot at the bar.

"Two Tequilas," he said desperately.

And make it quick! Tequila makes people happy, right? This had better work!

With the tequilas in hand, Eddie turned in a fluster to battle his way back to Luke and Charlie before things got even more out of hand. Imagining the argument to have progressed further, he was amazed however to find that they had moved from the table to a booth that had become vacant, and, far from being at each other's throats, they were practically snuggled together with Luke's arm around Charlie and Charlie giggling at something that Luke had said.

"Talk about mood swings!" he said, standing in front of them.

Charlie looked up with a smile. "There he is."

"Here," he said, placing the tequila shots down on the table. "Tequila, it makes you happy. I'm going to…find myself a nice Russian. I'll be around," he said, leaving them to their own devices.

"A nice Russian for Eddie," she commented, "Ahhhh."

Luke was staring at the tequila shots with a frown on his face. He shook his head.

"Nah, that aint right; somethin's missin'." He stood then. "I'll be right back. Don't go nowhere," he said.

"Come back soon," she called after him, glancing down at the table with the shots on. "Oooh, tequila," she said, reaching out for one of the glasses but pausing midway. "No, no, I shouldn't."

Luke quickly returned with a salt shaker and another shot glass in hand containing two slices of lemon.

He sat next to Charlie and placed the items on the table. "That's better," he said.

"Ahh, I've seen this done before," she replied, reaching for the salt. He halted her hand.

"No, no, wait, we do it a bit different in New York," he informed her. "This is what ya gotta do," he said, holding the back of his hand up to her. "Lick it," he said with boyish excitement.

She glanced from his hand back to his face. "Are you sure this is how they do it in New York?" she asked.

"Would I lie to you Charlie?" he asked innocently.

Of course he would.

She took hold of his wrist all the same and lifted his hand to her lips. He watched and waited, mesmerized. Then she dipped her head and opened her lips slightly… he saw her do that… and then her tongue! Woahhh! He felt her tongue wet his hand! Boy, oh boy!

He coughed. "Right, now ya gotta put salt on it," he instructed her.

She picked up the salt shaker and he watched her face intently as she went about the job of pouring out the salt.

"Okay," she said, her gaze lifting to his. "Done that. What now?"

She giggled. His face looked all soft and dreamy, and when his voice came out, it too had lost all of its edge.

"Now I gotta lick yours," he said, "Your hand," he clarified, reaching for her arm.

She found it so funny the way he was acting all of a sudden. He was gazing at the back of her hand as if it were a precious jewel!

Then he lifted her hand to his lips, where he pressed a gentle kiss to it, then grinned against her skin and licked.

She giggled at the sensation and pulled her hand away, passing him the salt.

He watched her with amusement as he poured the granules onto her hand.

"Okay," he said, "Now we lick, then drink, and then, you put a lemon slice in my mouth, I put one in yours."

There was that grin again!

"Okay," she replied, feigning innocence.

"One, two, three, go," he said.

They licked and drank, each reaching for a lemon piece and aiming for each other's mouths, both laughing out loud. Luke found the lemon she was offering and engulfed the whole piece in his mouth, sucking on her fingers as he did so. She squealed and whipped her hand away. He cringed slightly, withdrawing the bitter lemon rind before offering the lemon in his hand to her. She went to take it, but drew away a couple of times just as he reached her lips.

"C'mon Charlie," he said, "Stop teasin'."

She finally gave in and opened her mouth, he popped the lemon in, watching her teeth and lips close around it.

They gazed at each other, slight smiles on their faces, as they both wondered at how 'stimulating' a couple of tequila shots could be.