<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Alexandria's eyes narrowed as she approached him -- and he approached her.  Her nostrils flared and she took in the scent of him, and the Fed.  And their mingled scent.  "You dare speak of scents lingering, when you smell of her?"  One elegant eyebrow cocked, and she thrust her chin out at Catherine.  When intimidated -- attack.  Was it not always the way of things?<br/>
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Narrowing her own eyes, Cat bit back a snarl.  "Answer the question, Cleopatra.  Or would Lucretia be a more apt historical sobriquet?"<br/>
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"Why, Gabriel," Alexandria purred.  "Your toy has quite the education."  She edged closer to Catherine, humming slightly.  "Why else use a word like 'sobriquet' when so many others would do."  She swept her eyes over the lithe form, ready stance.  "I am certain I know nothing about any ThreeEye plot," she said, waving a hand at Gabriel but not looking away from Cat.  "After that little disaster in Chicago, I know better than to invest in such a concoction."</span></span>