The rock pressed in around Patience on all sides. She was jammed in between two sharp rocks where the passage bottlenecked, she had no more than 2 inches of room on any side of her. The passage was 20 feet long, and she had managed to wriggle, and force her way through most of it, but she had been stuck in this position for nearly twenty minutes. There was no light except for her own headlamp attached to her battered helmet and her legs were nothing but pins and needles.

"How in the hell did you do this!?" Patience yelled ahead of her. "You're twice my size!"

"I wouldn't say twice your size." He answered with a chuckle. A frustrated yell echoed back at him.

"Really? You're going to rip on my weight now!?" She pushed forward with her knees, but was met only with the biting edge of the rock digging into her hips. "I'm not even fat!" She growled as she let her body slip back into the same position as before.

"I was only teasing, ma Cherie. Rest for a moment." Patience groaned. She had been through hundreds of passages in her short 27 years of life, but none had ever challenged her like this one.

Every muscle in her body ached with fatigue, she was covered in nasty scrapes, and she was certain, more than one bruise. She shifted her weight as much as she could so that the pressure from the rocks was distributed as evenly as possible. Scuffling came from ahead of her and the light shifted before a water bottle appeared in her view. It was uncapped and in her position she couldn't take it from him so she opened her mouth and grunted, allowing him to pour it into her mouth. She drank as much as she could, but it spilled all over her face and mixed with the dust on her skin. He pulled the bottle away and she heard more scuffling. "You're almost there, Ma Cherie. Only a few more feet.

"It may as well be a thousand miles." She mumbled as she took a few deep breaths. It was easy to panic with the whole world pressing down around you, and so little air to breath. Many people have died from panic attacks in passages such as this one.

"Now, I want you to take a deep breath, and then force out all of the air in your lungs and press forward as hard as you can. It will not feel good."

"Because I feel so comfortable now." She quipped as she prepared herself mentally for what was to come. Patience had suffered her share of bumps and bruises, she could handle a few more. Unable to bear her position any longer she gave a huge sigh and blew as much air out of her lungs as she could, while at the same time shoving forward with her knees. The rock dug into her skin and she could tell it was cutting her, but she kept pushing. Suddenly the rock lost it's hold on her and she slipped through the bottleneck onto the flat bottom of the passage beyond. The little taste of freedom gave her the energy to army crawl the final five feet, which were smooth sailing compared to the bottleneck, and she flopped gracelessly out the end of the passage and onto the stone floor. Her chest heaved as she sucked in gulps of stale, dusty air. Jean-Luc smiled down at her, his headlamp shining in her eyes.

"Congratulations, you made it in alive." He said as he clapped his hand to hers and hauled her up off of the stone floor. She wasn't ready to be stood up, her head spun, and suddenly having so much space to move was disorienting. She did not have the wherewithal to protest when he lifted the hem of her shirt and poured water onto the cuts that covered the tops of her were not deep, but they joined to make a painful rash that stung badly.

"Ouch, God damn it!" She batted his hand away and clutched her side as she began to think clearly. "I'll be fine." Patience looked around the small chamber they had entered, only a few feet across in all directions, and opposite from the crevice they had used to enter, was a door shaped corridor, only about 6 feet high by 3 feet wide. Above this passage was an inscription, the same inscription Jean-Luc had quoted in the bar only the night before. Jean-Luc watched as Patience went from dazed to a state of intense focus. She looked as though nothing in the world existed except the passage before them. It almost appeared as though she were entranced.

Patience stood very still, peering down the small corridor. Her lamp light illuminated the entire corridor up until its termination, and nothing beyond. There was nothing but a black end. She swallowed her nerve and surged ahead. The anticipation crawled beneath her skin, making her flush with excitement as she came to the end of the corridor. Her lamplight fell upon a tomb, with the stone figure of a priest lying prostrate, cross cradled in his left hand, and his right anointing his resting place. She could feel the ages, charging the air and sending her skin to shivers. Centuries had passed in this quiet place, the air was still and there was utter silence. She had never been able to explain this feeling to anyone. The moment her feet had left the corridor, the place had forced its energy into her, filling her to overflowing with peace and elation. It was a high she felt only in ancient places. This tomb was not so old, but it was utterly undisturbed, and the truth was still here for her to learn. She spun around and returned to where Jean-Luc stood, grabbing her bag and removing a camera and a digital recorder, not even glancing at the man as she hurried back down the passage and into the tomb. She hung her camera around her neck and pressed the record button on the digital recorder and immediately began uttering a string of observations. The size of the tomb, it's singular antechamber, the stone used in it's floor and walls, the gilded candlesticks and crucifix that were mounted to the far wall. Every minute detail was recorded as it came to her attention. The main chamber of the tomb was ten meters square, and modestly adorned as was to be expected. The antechamber held nothing but a pedestal with a stone bible atop it.

An hour passed before Patience remembered the existence of her companion, grudgingly she returned to the chamber and looked at him where he leaned gracefully against the stone wall. She had photographed and taken notes of 30% percent of the chamber, and he had not moved an inch.

"You are dutifully thorough ma petite cherie." He thrummed with a grin. Patience grimaced at his familiar rhetoric but chose not to bring it up. She had the irritating feeling that if she told him to stop he would simply continue to do so with more gusto.

"I will need a few months here." She stated firmly. "I've documented a good portion of the tomb, however I will need to take samples and receive permission to open the casket." Jean-Luc shook his head lazily and grinned.

"There is no need, nor is there time." Jean-Luc pushed away from the wall and dusted off his shirt front. Patience snorted in disbelief.

"What?" She didn't care to believe what he had just said. "You offered me employment based on the research I am doing on Pere Robert and now you mean to tell me that you don't want me to finish it? I did not drag my ass through that passage to leave this half done!"

"I offered you employment based on your character and nothing more. This little exercise was simply to prove that I am a man of my word." Jean-Luc grinned calmly as he watched multiple emotions flash over her features. "I have a job for you that you will like much better than this dirty hole in the ground."

"And what might that be?" The audacity of the man before her was mind boggling. What could he possibly have hidden up his sleeve that could interest her more. She had poured thousands of hours into finding this chapel, and he had handed it to her only to rip it away one hour into the actual work.

"I cannot do it justice with mere words, Ma Cherie, but if you will come with me to La Fleur De Bois, I promise you will not regret it." The little woman seemed to turn what he said over in her mind. Patience ran her hand over her dirt covered face and through her messy curls.

"Fine." She grumbled. "But if it doesn't blow my mind then I'm coming right back here and finishing my work." She wasn't going to be whisked away like some mindless minion. She would go on her own terms.

"Bon, I have a car waiting for us. Your things have already been collected and sent to my estate." With a dashing smile and without another word Jean-Luc yanked her pack off the floor and tossed it into the crevice.

Patience sat across from Jean-Luc with her arms crossed over her dirty tank top. He was draped over his seat with a scotch poised in his right hand. He had been looking at her far too comfortably for most of their drive. Patience had known he was rich but she hadn't expected a limousine with a fully stocked bar, or a gray haired chauffeur to open her door and stow her bags.

"Is this a regular occasion for you?" She snapped. They were now well outside of Paris, traversing idyllic little fields dotted with livestock. She hadn't spent much time in the sun for months and the sunshine was making her irritable.

"Piare usually takes this route, yes." Jean-Luc could not help but tug at Patience's strings. "When was the last time you smiled, ma petite cherie?" She scowled at him and turned to look out the window. With a soft chuckle Jean-Luc grabbed a chilled glass from the sideboard and promptly filled it with whiskey. He dangled it infront of her until she begrudgingly took it and knocked it back. "Why don't we play a game?" He suggested as he filled her glass once again.

"What kind of game?" Patience took another swig of whiskey and eyed him suspiciously. She had reconciled herself to the fact that she would be spending quite a bit of time with the man she had met just the night before. Had she lost her mind? It was certainly possible.

"It is my humble opinion that you and I should get to know one another." Jean-Luc set the whiskey back in the sideboard and settled in his seat. "Perhaps we should play a guessing game. We could take turns guessing things about one another, and if we guess incorrectly, we drink. If we guess correctly the other will drink."

Patience raised one fiery eyebrow and gave a cautious nod. "Alright." Neither of them could give a damn that it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday. "But I get to go first."

"As you wish, ma cherie." Jean-Luc waved his hand lazily and smiled wider.

"I guess that you have a habit of plucking women out of Paris for liaisons and then tossing them back where you found them." This elicited a hearty laugh from the burly man.

"Your opinion of me is glowing. Drink." Jean-Luc smirked and rubbed his stubbled jaw. Patience knit her eyebrows together in disbelief, but took a swig nonetheless.

"You came to France to escape something didn't you?" Jean-Luc watched Patience's look sober. He nodded knowingly as she took yet another drink.

"I don't think I like this game." She mumbled. Patience blinked as she turned once again to the window.

"It has only just begun." Jean-Luc chided.

"And yet I already want it to end." Patience swallowed and glanced back at Jean-Luc who was wearing a rare look of disappointment. "You're my employer, not my friend." She stated firmly.

"Such a temper, ma cherie. " Jean-Luc shook his head and quirked a brow. "Is my company so unbearable?" Patience felt a pang of guilt and sighed. When had she become such an angry cunt?

"No." She mumbled reluctantly. "I'm sorry. I'm not much for anyone's company these days."

"He's a scoundrel." Jean-Luc took a sip of his drink. "The man who made your temper deserves to be punished for such a crime." He found himself meaning his words sincerely. Several hundred years to think had given him more insight into emotion than he had ever wanted. Patience raised a hand to grip her curls and shrugged.

"If he's a scoundrel then I'm a fool." Patience had kept her feelings on the matter clamped up tight. She hadn't talked to anyone about it, not even Agatha, but the whiskey had loosened her lips. "Handsome faces always seem to be the downfall of foolish women." The bitterness of her words was tragic, but she hardly had the energy to feel her own pain. Another heavy swig passed her lips before her gaze returned to the man before her. The look of pity he wore was like a slap in the face. What was she doing spilling her guts to this stranger?

"You speak too harshly of yourself. You are no fool Dr. Sinclaire." Jean-Luc had hardly noticed that they had neared his estate, and his stomach sank as they pulled into the driveway of his palatial mansion. Very soon he would betray her, and he would be just another cruel, handsome face.