Xaviers!

Colette gave a slight pause. "I... would make her as comfortable as ze rest. I cannot exactly place tacks on her seat, yes?"

"I don't want to hurt her.

It's just going to happen and I don't want her to not see it coming."

"Well, short of telling her zat myself, I do not know what else I could do prepare her for zat."

There's the soft purr of an engine as a Bentley pulls around up front. Mercifully for Basil, it doesn't look like the Bentley of anyone he hates.

Colette quickly glanced out the window before she patted down her dress and got her limbs to a more socially-acceptable number. One had to look presentable.

"Well, here we go." She said, heading for the door to open it.

At the same time that the Bentley pulled up, a familiar pastel figure arrived. Perhaps she'd been waiting herself for the Spencers. She didn't say anything to them, merely joined the assembled as she was expected to.

Hugo emerged from the vehicle first. He was dressed in the standard bodyguard ensemble: dark suit, tie, and sunglasses. Upon concluding his threat analysis, he opened the door for the others inside.

"All clear."

Dafne bopped out of the car next, and looked at the townhouse.

"Awwww, how quaintly pedestrian.

Do you think they have a boot room?"

"Dafne, behave." Gus says, getting out of the car.

Unaware of the sarcasm, the pastel ninja approached.

"Yes. And a conservatory that Benson-tono smokes in because he does not wish to ruin the house."

"I actually like it," he said to himself.

"Shall we head in or would Lady Dafne like to continue to snark?" he smirked. He was unusually cheeky that afternoon, though he remained formal with Gus.

"I could certainly come up with a few more observations if one likes.

Like how he drives an old man's car." She stated, pointing at Basil's Volvo.

Colette eventually opened the door to the townhouse, as there were enough people milling about outside who were adverse to being the first to ring the bell to warrant her taking charge.

"Ah, good, you have all arrived! Please, come inside before a sniper can enact zeir plan."

"Bit shellshocked are we?" Gus chuckles and heads in.

The mention of a sniper almost made Hugo shove Gus back into the car before he had time to realize Colette wasn't serious. He gave her an irritated glare as he followed Gus.

"Well, it is not all zat far fetched, considering what Basil has been zrough zese past monz." Colette replied, standing aside and welcoming in her... guests.

One would probably expect such a clandestine meeting to perhaps have an air of class about it.

Basil's immature t-shirt and grey sweat pants vibe really threw all that out the window. Perhaps his mind was too occupied by everything happening to spend time on looking good. Or perhaps scrubs and straight jackets for months had diminished his need to look well kept all the time.

He was seated at the kitchenette table when the group came into the flat, having himself another mug of tea.

"Ladies, gent... cousin." He addressed the assembled quartet of guests.

"This is the same fancy lad, right?" Hugo asked curiously.

"He's had a rough time, Hugo."

"Of course. My apologies Mister Benson," he said, hiding his embarrassment with businesslike diplomacy.

He glanced at them from across the room, biting his tongue on responding to Hugo's comment. Getting up to move into the living area where they'd been brought in by Colette, he motioned to what she'd laid out for the guests.

"Help yourselves." He stated, flopping unceremoniously on the chaise portion of their sleeper sofa, he managed to have enough dexterity not to spill on himself.

Chisaki ended up sitting on the floor next to the coffee table and taking a sandwich finger to nibble on while she was down there.

Colette did her best to bite her tongue as well. She had wanted, even expected Basil to dress up a bit for this - but this wasn't the same Basil who had disappeared some months ago. And frankly, she didn't want to tell him what to do in every aspect of his life. Still, she took the opportunity to slip in behind Chisaki's chair, leaning in to whisper softly into her ear... with her hand. Because she wasn't bound by the laws of biology.

"Please steel yourself. Basil tells me zat zis... may not be pleasant for you." She straightened ever so slightly and gestured to the wooden box on the coffee table. "Please feel free to select which tea you would like, I will be back shortly wiz ze pot." Inside the box were several compartments with individual tea bags, a few of them labeled "Harrod's" with numbers on them, while others were much more... domestic. She gave Chisaki a soft pat on the shoulder before she left to go grab the larger teapot... because of course there were multiples in different sizes. Imagine only having one? That would be like a car with one tire.

Chisaki didn't respond beyond slowing down her chewing. Instead, she deflected.

"Howard told me to say hello." Chisaki said to Hugo, hoping to throw him off a bit.

Hugo didn't like that his brothers were in contact with the odd girl the whole time behind his back. He might be their little brother but he wasn't a child. So he cast her a look that simultaneously confirmed the effectiveness of her statement and tried to look nonchalant. The former might be missed by anyone that didn't speak bodyguard.

"Seems kidnapping and brainwashing agrees with you, cousin," Gus says, arching a brow and approaching the tea service.

"More like I've switched out one set of anxieties for a new fun set of things to have anxiety over.

Hoorah telepathy.

But enough about me.... we need to figure out where everything lies and how to get George Benson exiled from proper society."

"Is he not in self-exile already? I zought zat no one ever saw him." Colette asked, overhearing the conversation as she returned with the large silver tea pot.

"It is true that he is not a social butterfly. He works, and only He-above knows what else the man does when he isn't working. He used to make house calls on mother occassionally, but I don't know how often that happens anymore.

But even if he lives in the bank building, I'd be hard pressed to state he's a proper exile. After all, he's still making deals."

"I've seen a bit of what he gets up to, and he's certainly not resting on his laurels."

"I am of the opinion that I've enough at this point to blackmail him out of his position of power purely by knowing who I am, and existing. I must, or he wouldn't have tried to have me put somewhere that I couldn't talk.

Is that a fair assumption on my part Gus?"

"I think the important thing is you've got the leverage you need for us to pursue the original plan. He could have fought it before, but it's obvious now he wanted to keep things tidy, so that runs to our advantage."

"Well then, the only question remaining is how we cook this turducken."

Colette helped herself to one of the cheaper-looking teabags and poured some hot water into her cup, letting it steep. When she poured Chisaki's cup she leaned in to whisper her a question.

"Qu'est-ce qu'un turducken ?"

"You see, when a turkey, a duck and a chicken love each other very much... and crawl into an oven... a turducken is born," Hugo said in a professional tone.

"Oh... it is slang for a polyamorous relationship? Mistresses are practically a guarantee for a man as rich as Monsieur Benson...."

Colette Rosenhof wrote:Colette helped herself to one of the cheaper-looking teabags and poured some hot water into her cup, letting it steep. When she poured Chisaki's cup she leaned in to whisper her a question.

"Qu'est-ce qu'un turducken ?"

Chisaki herself shrugged, for lack of a response to the question.

Colette Rosenhof wrote:"Oh... it is slang for a polyamorous relationship? Mistresses are practically a guarantee for a man as rich as Monsieur Benson...."

"You are so obsessed with that..." Basil commented while giving Colette the side eye. Apparently he remembered her mentioning ménage à trois on more than one occassion.

"Hang on....

What do we know about George's sex life? Does he frequent any clubs? Call on any particular services with any regularity?"

"Well we know he apparently considered pole dancing an essential skillset," Gus says dryly.

"Oh but it was!" Basil exclaimed, grinning as he pulled up his shirt to show off his new abs. " Now I can crush walnuts with my tummy. Never got that out of P.E."