"Huh?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "The more worked up you get, the less I understand that accent of yours." She glanced over. "Ooh, our drinks are here." She smiled, walking back to their table and picking up her Pale Sunrise. "Let's go on upstairs."

"Okay . . . Where I woulda headed in da foist place!" Steelbeak groaned. "If only you'da let me!"

"Hey, don't get snippy with me, Steels, or I can just tell High Command that I wanna work solo on this mission."

Steelbeak grumbled unintelligibly under his breath as Gabriel strode off toward the back of the club. "So . . . what was wit' dat mallard, eh?" He asked, as Gabriel stopped at the bar.

"He was cute." She shrugged absently, leaning over the bar. "Hey Mitch. How's my favorite bartender?" She asked with a wink.

The tall and rather muscular duck behind the bar turned and smiled. "Just fine, Gabey. How's the drink?"

"Perfect." She plucked the strawberry from the side of her glass and bit into it pointedly. Then she took the remaining half of the berry, plucked off the greens, and held it up. "Here." She leaned over a bit more and popped it into Mitch's waiting bill.

He smiled, then swallowed the berry. "You're right, that's not half bad."

"Same to you, Mitch, same to you." She winked, then headed for the partitioned staircase. "Catch ya later."

"Save me a dance!" He called after her.

Steelbeak turned to follow her, then paused. "Yo, Mitch."

"Hey, Agent Steelbeak. What's up?"

"I gotta woik wit' her . . ." Steelbeak glared pointedly at Gabriel.

"You lucky duck!" Mitch grinned. "I bet every guy in the Goldeneye would give his tailfeathers to work with Gabe Noonan."

"What's so great about her? She's a pushy, self-centered, flirtatious control freak. And dose are 'er good qualities!"

"Yeah . . ." Mitch replied. "Don'cha just love her?"

"Gah!" Steelbeak slapped his hand over his eyes. "I'd love ta strangle -- "