The Cybersybils present The Bull Ring

Olivia awoke to the brush of silk against a forearm, then the low sound of a beating heart...her own, perhaps...or another's? The reverie of sleeping next to warm, human flesh became a reality when she heard a male voice mumble, "How did I get here? My gods, Mistress Olivia...I must have sleep walked...did we...?"

The Peyton lass opened one eye and saw that Juan Carlos the Jackal occupied her bed. "No, we did not. At least I don't think we did...how did you get in here anyway? Didn't Duke Dom bring me home?"

Madame Butterfly by Icart

Gathering her wits, the confused CyberSybil recalled Ms. Madeline's remark at the Three Fish concerning Don Juan's reported skill in the Taoist art of love, so thinking to break the ice more diplomatically and knowing something concerning the lore of the Yin-Yang butterfly herself, she ventured a shy, "No, I am quite certain, Mr. Jackal - no Dragon and Phoenix."

Juan Carlos' deceptive gaze locked onto Olivia's, rendering the woman weaker than she had been in her slumbers and at a loss for words to convey any serious thought. The Jackal then continued with Olivia's theme and replied:

"If we had experienced the sensation of creating Clouds and Rain with our bodies and with our minds, Miss Olivia, you would undoubtedly remember for much longer than the next morning!"

Before the blushing blonde might respond in kind, the sharp tap of stiletto heels combined with a strong woosh of perfume sent cavalcading through a hastily thrown-open door, announced the arrival of an intruder upon the idyllic scene.

"And what have we here?"

Posh Peyton's thin, brittle timbre demanded an answer.

"I shan't abide teepee creeping in my house, young lady! Answer me this instant!"

A set of impeccably manicured claws, accented by ten bejeweled fingers, were soon revealed - talons that eagerly latched onto Olivia's mussed hair.

"Mother...stop!" the daughter insisted, vainly attempting to fend off Posh with a show of flailing arms. "I didn't ask this man in here!"

Surprise by Icart

Soon reduced to a heap on the floor, Olivia began to mutter French curses while Carlos hastily rearranged the bed covers in order to conceal his own hide.

"Madame, truly, your daughter is innocent; in fact, she is recovering from a grave wrong recently done her by one close to your own person."

"Oh, really? And just whom might you be?"

The wide smile Posh produced at the sound of the declaration, "The Jackal," caused Olivia to shriek with frustration, then rise and flee the disturbing scene.

"Welcome, Juan Carlos, I know who you are. Please excuse my brusque manners, but I thought, well...Olivia has always been a bit of a wild child, you see, and..."

The Jackal cocked his head quizzically and regarded the odd woman who wore a bright yellow suit accented by large, gold-tone buttons, hair brushed up into a honey-colored twist.

"Have you seen your secretary, Madame Fichon, of late?"

"Why, how do you know her? And no, to answer your question, I have not, due to the fact that she usually takes the weekend off to visit an ailing cousin, Juanita Carlotta, near to my second home in Deauville. What a devoted lass she is to that poor relative of hers, and of course, to me."

"Madame Peyton, Fichon in fact kidnapped your child two nights past, imprisoning Miss Olivia in the foul dungeons of the Château Chien, also close to your second home in Deauville. Ms. Madeline and Professor Peyton alerted me to your child's disappearance and I forthwith dealt with an all-too-familiar situation, speedily returning your captive daughter here, to Château Gâteau. Fichon, on the other hand, will not be escaping justice so quickly. You best begin a search for a new assistant."

"No! How riveting a story, Juan Carlos," Posh simpered, seemingly unconcerned with the state of the white slave trade. "How brave of you, and who would have ever thought Fichon to be a traitor? I'll be sure to use this incident in a forthcoming work, rest assured! Perhaps," the Peyton patroness drawled rather deliberately, "perhaps I might even write a story about a handsome, misunderstood man of mystery named..."

"...the Jackal. Oh, it's been done, Madame," Carlos joked good-naturedly, "by a writer named Forsyth. Recall, Mrs. Peyton, that classic work, The Day of..."

"...the Hyena!" Posh enthused, missing the humor completely, thinking her assessment correct. "Yes, how silly of me," she continued, thoroughly charmed by JC's act.

"You will be staying for brunch, will you not?"

"Of course, Madame...yet first," Juan Carlos raised an eyebrow and looked away rather hesitantly.

"Oh, how rude of me! Yes, of course, I'll leave you to your pelt, er, your felt, oh my..." the lady of the manor effused, touching her twist.

Juan Carlos, Full of Bull?

"Do hurry...we'll see you downstairs. My husband makes the most wonderful French toast! This is so exciting! Oliiiviiia! Where did you go, my pet?" whereupon the Queen of the Bodice Rippers exited center stage.

The Jackal held a pillow to his face and convulsed with laughter. Yes, breaking fast would prove most interesting, most interesting indeed. And since none had naturally divined his matador disguise, he was more than ready to enter the Bull Ring, picador in hand.