I know it has been a long long long long time since I updated this, but I had this chapter written down and I thought I might get back into and hopefully finish this story, if anyone's still interested in it.

Also, I mentioned a prequel to this in one of the previous chapters- well, that is now up, entitled 'Head Over Heels Down a Flight of Stairs.'

FLASH

I've given the kid a job. Weren't my idea- it was some mad gaff of Milla's. Dunno how she can even think of other stuff when all this lot's going on, but, she says, life's gotta go on normal-like while they figure out what to do. So two in the morning, the Black Jaguar could be lurking round any bloody corner, and I'm sitting down here in my workshop with a kid who two days ago worked for the blokes what tried to kill me, showing him the ropes.

'Now,' I say, sliding a set of scales across the table to him, 'you watch this. See, when the clients get suss, they wanna make sure you ain't cheatin' em, an' they're gettin' exactly what they paid fer.' I pause, smile at him and put a finger on the side of my nose. 'But they ain't. They'll fink they are, though, and 'ere's how- the scales are fixed, see? Ya put the load on this side, the weights 'ere and it'll balance out no matter what. Trick o' the trade.'

Basil learns quick enough, but he's still trying to get his head round the fact that his life's gonna be hocking counterfeit gear from now on. I have to be real patient not to spit out that he's been working for the most crooked, evil group in the country, so what's he got against the odd scam, but I don't. He's just a kid.

'Word of advice,' I tell him as we go through the list of blokes what we trade with, 'never try an' scam St Trinian's, though. Too smart for ya.'

He nods, he's seen that too. His theory's good, but I dunno how he's gonna handle the practical. Don't talk much, not without sounding a bit awkward and unsure- I ain't sure he's cut out for the negotiations. Can't picture him smooth-talkin' his way outta a situation, and he don't seem to have the killer instinct. He'd give in sooner than keep fighting, that's my guess. And I won't get to see him in action for a while neither- we cam't leave here 'til this Black Jaguar thing's sorted. If I leave here at all. Somehow I don't think I'm coming out the other side of this.

Nice enough kid, I just don't see how this is gonna work out. I'm doin' it for Kelly, though. For Milla. For the twins. For St Trinian's. I owe 'em big time- and they're my family an' I love them. They care about me enough to save me from death, from my worst dears, even when it meant risking their own necks, even when I'm just the smooth-talkin' spiv who started off their friend only 'cause I learnt it's too hard to outsmart 'em. They took me in like one of their own, and now they're all in trouble for it.

Well, taking in Basil is the least I can do. They don't know it yet, but I'm gonna make this right somehow. No matter what it takes, I'm gonna get my girls out of the line of fire.

Worst part is, there's only one way I can think of to get us outta this. I ain't gonna like it, but it's the only way.

KELLY

I don't know how we manage to get any of the girls to bed after today's events, but it happens all the same. The emos are doing a night watch, planning to swap shifts every few hours. The usual taunts have gone back and forth between Zoe and Bianca (sounds about right for you, vamps always come out at night/no, I'm just staying up to kill you in your sleep) but Taylor and Andrea have been unusually quiet since we got home. It's the first time since third year the two haven't been at each other's throats, and before Taylor turns in I think I catch the faintest glimmer of a smile between them. The first years are still chattering as I leave the dorm, and four in the morning fineds me on the roof, shivering in the night air and gazing across the expanse of lawn that constitutes the hockey pitch. You can't see the Black Jaguar logo now, but its presence seems to settle over the entire school.

'Hey!'

I don't look up as the click of heels gets closer, or as Annabelle sits down beside me and hesitantly puts one hand on my shoulder.

'Annabelle, can I ask you something?' I don't give her a chance to reply. 'I mean- I want your honest opinion- am I a bad Head Girl?'

'Kel, no…'

'Look at me, Annabelle! Everything I do puts lives at risk. If I hadn't gone out with Flash, the Black Jaguar bastards would never have found him, and if I hadn't broken in there the school would be safe right now, and the girls…' I can't finish. Annabelle seems to know that, though. She says nothing for a minute, just…understands. And when she does speak, she doesn't whinge, doesn't try to pet me or comfort me. She speaks with the kind of authority I would normally have.

'Kelly Jones, don't talk about yourself like that. Ever since I came here you've always been the one to save us- to get us out of trouble, not into it. And I've learnt that St Trinians are tough stuff- and dangerous. We make trouble, but we can handle it.'

Spoken like a true leader. She's surprised me right out of my own self-pity. I'm still worried for the girls, but Annabelle's attitude has reminded me that me sitting and sulking won't get us anywhere. We need to move forward, to keep fighting, to get through this.

And in that moment, I've also just become certain of something. If anything happens to me in the upcoming Black Jaguar fight, I want Annabelle to take over for me. She has what it takes- all the qualities a Head Girl needs in this place. She could get us through this in my stead.

And if she doesn't, my name isn't Kelly Jones.

CHELSEA

Chloe's on the phone to a Spanish prince, and Peaches is manning the chat lines. Normally I would be jealous of all their attention, but I've got my own super-cute boyfriend downstairs who I rescued all by myself. I'm smarter than your average brainless slapper, you know.

I trot down the stairs with a spring in my step. I've done my hair and makeup perfectly, if I do say so myself- I want to look my best for the boy who loves me. He's working for Flash now, thanks to a kind offer of Miss Fritton's. I do say it was nice of her to let him stay here- now I can keep him close by all the time.

It feels strange, all this love stuff. I've never really had a boyfriend who loved me- I've had lots who liked me or said I was sexy or wanted me- but never loved. It feels very grown up- I must tell Miss Dickinson.

When I get down to Flash's workshop, he's already packing up, Basil looking quite flustered.

'Wotcher, Chels!' Flash raises his had to tip his hat, realises he doesn't have one any more and then he's gone, and I'm all alone with Basil. He sits on Flash's work table, saying nothing, and I wonder why he's ignoring me. Maybe he doesn't like my shade of lipstick?

No, he can't have seen me- that must be it. I'm far too gorgeous for him not to have. I clear my throat.

'Ahem.'

He doesn't move. I clear it again- he'd better look round this time, if I scratch up my throat I won't sound half so alluring on the Posh Totty chatline.

'Ahem! Basil…Basil?'

He looks up at me- about time too! I give him a little wave.

'Oh. Chels.'

I'm clever enough to sense that something's wrong- see how perceptive I've gotten? When you become smart you get insights into these things, you know.

I walk around to his side of the desk and sit up beside him, putting my hand on his shoulder. I never noticed what biceps he's got- he really is quite fit. And he's mine. Aren't I lucky!

'I was just thinking,' Basil says, 'I can't get the black Jaguar out of my head. I've got this…premonition, you know, that they'll come back- come here.'

I remember the word 'premonition'- it was in the School Challenge, in that first round where we memorised all the answers. So I have a pretty good idea of what he's talking about.

'Because of the grass thing?'

He looks across at me. 'What grass thing?'

He didn't know? 'When we found the logo burnt in the grass this afternoon, silly! Didn't you see it?'

Basil suddenly looks terribly frightened. I don't like this look- I don't like seeing people upset.

'They know.' Even his voice is shaking. He leans over and grabs hold of my shoulders. He ought to be more careful- he'll wrinkle my blouse!

'They know- oh, Chels, why? Don't you understand? There's no escaping this now- they're coming. We're doomed. I'm doomed. You're all doomed!;

'Oh, we'll fix it,' I say. 'We're St Trinian's, you know. Haven't you heard of us? We're not in danger from other people- we're the dangerous ones!'

He shakes his head. 'There's nothing you can do. It's just a matter of time now.'

'But…'

'What can a bunch of schoolgirls do against a bunch of criminal geniuses?'

I put my arms around him and lay my head on his shoulder- this should comfort him at least a little bit. I've got members of the Royal Family who'd pay a fair bit of money for me to do what I'm doing now. I've got a gift.

Basil smells nice- he's got a bit of cologne on, and even though he's shaking he's warm. I could get used to this.

'Did you know we robbed the National Gallery once?'

His eyes go huge.

'Mm, see, what happened was, we needed to get half a million pounds, so we sneaked in while they had the finals of the School Challenge. I was in charge of actually answering the questions, and I had this brilliant idea…'

I spend the next half hour telling him stories about St Trinian's and all the fantastic things we've done since I've been here, and he seems entertained- who wouldn't be? We do have some wonderful adventures- but I'm secretly hoping they won't just take his mind off it. I hope they'll cheer him up- help him see that we really are quite clever, and we can handle lots of things. I don't know if it'll work, but I'll try.

I'll keep him talking for hours if I have to. Well, maybe not hours. I do need some beauty sleep. A while, though. A while.

KELLY

It's starting to get lighter, the beginnings of the rising sun laying a gold tint over the surrounding fields and trees. If I ever stopped just to look at the scenery, I would have noticed how beautiful the view is, but I never do seem to stop just to look any more. I'm always on the move, and there are the girls to take care of and Flash's trade to oversee and the teachers to keep in line. I don't know why I'm noticing it now, when we are, without doubt, facing the biggest crisis of our lives. I'm going to have to talk to Polly at some point tomorrow- no, today, it's almost morning- and hear even more bad news- the contents of the USB. I'll have to figure out how to protect the younger girls while we take down the Black Jaguar, so I don't know how I'm finding myself in such a peaceful, pre-dawn moment. I wouldn't have been able to sleep, though, even if I'd wanted to. It's no good Annabelle telling me I need rest- lying in bed not sleeping isn't going to make me any more rested than sitting up here not sleeping, so I'm still here, and 'Belle's gone, and I'm just perched on the edge of a deck chair waiting for the calm to end and the storm to begin.

I hear the faint sound of footsteps, a slight shuffling noise comes with each step- no stiletto-click- and I know these tell-tale little noises well enough to know who's approaching me. The walking stops and silence falls for a moment.

'Are you going to come and sit down or what?' I say flatly.

' 'Ow'd ya know I were 'ere?' Flash asks. I stand and turn to face him.

'Because I know you, Flash,' I say, sighing and taking a step toward him. 'I know you better than you think.'

He looks tired and haggard, rings under his eyes, his usual little-bit-more-than-designer stubble longer and untamed, hair scraggly and still no hat. Not that I can talk- I'm sure I'm not a pretty sight at the moment either. My eyes are barely open. I haven't done my hair or makeup since the Raid, and the wound on my arm stings like hell.

Flash holds open his arms and his coat and I allow myself to be wrapped in both of them, letting his scent surround me. The last time we did this we'd been on our first date- everything had been so nice then. We'd pulled off a heist, it was a time for celebration. We'd been happy.

I let out a rueful chuckle at the thought- all I'd worried about back then was whether I should be mixing business with pleasure and what sort of rumours might spread as a result. That all seems so insignificant now. It's only been a few weeks, but the whole course of everything has gone spinning off track- it's like years have gone by since that far more carefree day.

Flash's grip on me is tight- this feels not so much an embrace as that he's clutching me, cradling me to him as if he's about to lose me, as if he might never see me again.

'Kel,' he mutters again and again, kissing the top of my head and burying his face in my hair.

'It's okay,' I say, but I don't sound convincing even to myself. I doubt Flash is going to be easily persuaded.

'I gotta make this right, Kel,' he murmurs.

'We will,' I tell him. 'We all will, Flash. We'll think of something. St Trinian's can handle anything- you know that, right?'

He's silent for a long moment, more a statue than a man, and then when he does speak, his voice is shaking.

'Kel, whatever 'appens…' he clears his throat, but it still sounds thick with mucus, 'wha'ever 'appens…I love ya.'

I sigh. 'And I love you too, you soppy idiot.' I nestle closer to his chest. 'When this is over, we'll go on some proper dates, yeah? Without having to rush off and drive recklessly because of the Black Jaguar, and you can come and go from St Trinian's as you damn well please. You can walk up the staircase a free man- and I can push you down it.'

I laugh slightly, hoping the memory of something happy will ease a little of the tension, but he remains stiff and still.

'When this is over…'

I have a bad feeling about Flash right now. He's acting so preoccupied, I have a terrible, hope-I'm-wrong hunch he's thinking about doing something stupidly heroic to save our necks. I need to find out the truth about this USB- and act before anything happens.

To him, or to anyone else.

THE BOSS

Since we were founded, a pastiche of organised criminals, undercover agenst and the most brilliant minds in the country we have had no foe too dangerous to bring down. We spread our activities and our services across the nation, seeping out into surrounding countries- soon enough all of Europe will be our territory. And we will continue to expand.

We can be as simple, as ruthless or as devious as the task requires. No favour too great, provided the payment suffices- and if it doesn't, our tracking skills are such that no-one escapes us.

We find everyone. We show little in the way of mercy.

We are discreet. We are circumspect. Our group branches into many subgroups, almost impossible to trace back to us and our headquarters and we can infiltrate any government or secret service we choose, and start proceedings to take it down from the inside. Our agents are clever, easily blending into any role, manipulating anyone, and our clients are many- more than conceivable- from individuals in need of money to psychopaths in need of a hit man to multinational corporations in need of a spectacular weapon.

Our debts are high, our secrecy extreme, and anyone who fails to take heed of these two facts ends up joining us or being silenced by us. So it has been for three generations, since before I inherited the Black Jaguar. No enemy of ours has ever escaped our wrath.

Except one.

A seemingly innocent place has taunted our carefully established monopoly. It was 1959, some years before the ownership of the organisation came to me, before we had taken the northern areas, before even Wales had become part of our secret empire.

A small place with a large debt and no way to pay it. A simple loan. No repayment- not by the due date, not by a year later. It should have been simple enough to carry out our threat- take a few of the group as hostages- but they were cunning, with clever plans that rivalled even ours.

And so we sought revenge. When they burned down in the early '90s, one of our number helped in the reconstruction, carefully in cognito, and secretly wired up a powerful bomb. All the instructions on how to detonate it were transferred to a floppy disk, then to a USB, and entrusted to me, so that when the moment was right, I could destroy them for good.

And the iron was heating- soon I would strike- if it weren't for an idiot named Harry Edwards. An idiot with a large gambling debt to pay off, who we showed mercy to and granted a loan. An idiot who did a few odd jobs for us to earn some extra money, and took off with our precious USB.

But we will find him. We find everyone. And when we retrieve it, we will show no mercy- not to Harry, not to anyone who comes between us and him, not to those clever girls who infiltrated us to get him. And especially not to the place that has been our downfall more than once.

If we know Harry, he won't sit back and let us destroy St Trinian's for helping him- as he knows we will. He will try to be noble, give himself up, and the USB, for their sake. But he will just be doing us a favour.

For it is St Trinian's we have wanted all along. And soon enough, at last, we will have them.

Major bombshell dropped there regarding the USB...

And hopefully I shall update this much quicker, the last time was what...July?