January dawned grey and damp as December had been. Shaking off its post New Year hangover, London was ready to return to normality. It seemed that every restaurant, bar and club in the city was thriving with a new found energy, filled to the brim with eager locals, despite the fact it was an extremely wet Wednesday evening.
The restaurant Bond had chosen was no exception. Just off the West End of the city, it was discreet, simple, elegant, and a well kept secret among its patrons. However, it was as overcrowded as any other restaurant that night, and Bond found himself waiting for his dining companion surrounded by eating out couples, friends catching up after the long Christmas period, and the odd business meeting taking place over good food. He had just poured himself a glass of crisp white wine, and resigned himself to waiting when there was the hubbub of activity near the front of the restaurant.
Her hair was dripping wet with rain, her skin flushed from the cold wind outside, but despite this, Bond admitted to himself, Ashleigh looked good.
'Sorry,' she apologised as a waiter took her jacket for her, while another held her chair out, 'Traffic, inept taxi drivers, the weather, anything that could go wrong tonight, did.'
'You're here now,' James poured her a large glass of wine. As she sipped, he took the opportunity to study her, she was relaxed and smiling, the dark circles that had appeared under her eyes in Russia had been smoothed out, the tension had left her body, she seemed back to the Ashleigh he had known before. Before...
'What?' she asked curiously.
'Nothing,' he shook his head. 'You're looking well.'
'A compliment? What are you up to?'
'Do I have to be up to something?'
'James, with you, there's always something,' she gently teased him. 'How come you're in London anyway? I thought M had always had work for you.'
'Just returned. Official business of course, very politically sensitive.'
She stared at him, noticing the warm colour of his skin. 'Please don't tell me you got to spend Christmas on a top secret, highly dangerous mission somewhere very hot and glamorous?'
James smirked.
'With an equally glamorous blonde called Henrietta?'
'Georgina actually.'
'Damn you, James,' she laughed.
'And you? How was your Christmas?'
The smile dropped slightly. Reaching out, she fumbled with her wineglass. Christmas was always a painful time for her, and this year had been no exception. Feeling rather despondent, and unwillingly to intrude upon her friends despite their kind invitations, she had found herself throwing a bag into her car on Christmas Eve and driving to the country.
Picking up the menu, Ashleigh seemed to take a great deal of interest in the overblown description of a Caesar salad, before casually remarking, 'Oh, not much really. I spent it with my grandmother.'
It was the truth. Her grandmother had been more than happy, if a little surprised, to see her. But in all honesty, it hadn't been the success, or the distraction she had hoped for. Her grandmother, Catherine Montrose, had quickly sensed that something was troubling her granddaughter, and had made it her own personal mission to discover what exactly it was.
Catherine was in her mid seventies, although with her long red hair only just touched by grey, looked much younger. A self-sufficient artist, who specialised in sculpting, she always painted her nails so that any clay wouldn't show up beneath them. She also believed that no problem couldn't be solved by a long talk, and a bottle of red wine or two. Ashleigh, who found Christmas a painful experience, was even more reluctant to talk than usual, had retreated into her shell, something that had always infuriated Catherine. If only she had been more like her mother, than her father, Catherine had always thought.
But still Ashleigh refused to speak. It was definitely over a man, Catherine decided, but not a work colleague or a friend. Still Ashleigh wouldn't tell her, and finally, with a sigh of relief, Ashleigh had been able to return to the city, leaving Catherine none the wiser.
Perhaps she should have ventured the subject with her grandmother, Ashleigh suddenly thought. Perhaps Catherine would have met Alec years ago, she had known James, why not Alec? But, then, how did she explain everything to her? No, it had been better to remain silent on the subject.
'Sorry?' she suddenly realised James had asked her a question.
'I was wondering how Catherine was?' He had indeed met the woman several times over the years, and admired her forthrightness.
'Still wondering when my handsome godfather is going to whisk her away from it all,' Ashleigh glanced mischievously over the top of the menu. 'She's very taken with you, you know.'
James blanched slightly under his tan, and then laughed. 'Your grandmother will outlive us at this rate.'
It had been the wrong thing to say. He realised his error the moment he said it. Ashleigh's eyes dropped and she bit her lip. Catherine Montrose had already outlived her husband, her daughter, her son in law, and had no idea how close she had come to outliving her granddaughter as well. Reaching out, James squeezed her hand. 'Tactless of me,' he apologised.
Ashleigh forced a smile. 'Don't worry about it,' she said lightly. 'I've had a long time to get used to the situation, James. You don't need to tread gently around it. I know you miss them too.'
James picked up his glass, but didn't drink. A shadow flickered across his face at the memory of his friend.
He had met David Kain early on in his career. Quiet, strong, and a naturally calming presence no matter the situation, David had been one of the few men he could have truly called a friend. Like Alec had been. But while Alec had been the charmer, David had been stoical, solid and settled, a family man that had laughed at Alec and James's playboy ways, before returning to his pretty, red haired wife, and their sweet, dark eyed daughter. The mission had always been important to David, but when it was over, he knew what truly mattered to him. Only David had witnessed the moment when James, filled with grief and guilt over Alec's death, had broken down and wept awkwardly for his friend in the dark, private confines of David's study. Years earlier James had been there for David when Emma had finally lost her long battle against her illness, and David's perfect family had been shattered.
'Yes,' he said finally, 'I miss them.'
He had promised David and Emma, somewhat nervously, that he would protect their daughter. Staring at the young woman in front of him, and knowing what they had been through together, he thought perhaps he might have finally fulfilled that promise.
They fell into an awkward silence, knowing that there were things that could never be spoken of.
'Shall we order?' James asked at the same time as Ashleigh said 'More wine?'
It was a relief to change the subject.
Later that night, having lingered over coffee, James offered to drive Ashleigh home. The drive to the North of the city would give him the opportunity to talk to her without interruption.
As they hit the main road to the north, James finally broached the topic of Ashleigh's absence from MI6.
'How have you been?' he asked, not knowing what sort of reaction he was going to get. To his surprise, Ashleigh laughed.
'It's been wonderful. I've managed to catch up with all the things I've been meaning to do, films I've been meaning to see, books I've been meaning to read. Actually, its been extremely liberating. First time I've had some time to myself in quite a while.'
'So,' he was finding it very awkward to discuss the matter. 'You've been keeping yourself busy then?'
'Sure.' She paused, and in that pause, she let her misery show. 'I am going insane, James. Do you know how long a day is? Do you know how much time you have to think?'
He did. It was the reason why he worked so hard.
'I can't stop thinking what happened out there,' she said quietly, looking down at her hands. 'I need to know if what I did was right.'
'I won't talk about him...'
'This isn't about him!' Ashleigh snapped, losing her temper.
Bond remained stony faced and silent. He could feel her trembling in the seat next to him.
Ashleigh took a deep breath, this wasn't James's fault. She sighed. 'I didn't mean him. I meant Lucinda. Lucinda Elliot. Was I right to kill her?'
'Was there any way to disarm her?'
'No.'
'Would she have hesitated in killing you?'
'Not at all.'
'Then you have your answer.'
'James?'
'Yes?'
'Does it get easier?' she stared at him gauging his every reaction. 'Killing people?'
For a moment he wanted to say no, knowing it was the answer that she wanted to hear. That it still hurt with every life that he took, that he still felt guilt. But the truth was... 'Yes. It does.'
It got easier because he didn't consider them as worthwhile adversaries, most of the lives he took were faceless men, killed because they were an unnecessary nuisance that got in the way of his mission. He couldn't even remember half the men he killed.
She fell silent, digesting this information. 'I had a horrible feeling that it would.'
'Are you sure this is what you want to do with your life?' he asked.
'For the last four years, it's all I've wanted. I want to prove what I can do. That I can do it. Do you know that M is going to consider my application into the programme?'
'Is she?' James's tone was flat. He had heard rumours about it.
'Yeah. It was one of the conditions of my leave. And since I return to work tomorrow...'
'Since when?' James was genuinely shocked. He had heard nothing about this.
'I received a phone call from Moneypenny this evening, just before I left. It appears M has a new assignment for me.'
There was a smug tone to Ashleigh's voice that worried James. 'Has she?'
'Apparently so. It'll be good to get back to things, don't you think?'
She didn't see the dark look that flickered over James's face.
'I need to work,' Ashleigh continued. 'I need a sense of normality in my life. I mean, I know my job isn't the most normal career choice, but still. Throw myself back into duty, into the line of fire again and all that. Stop me thinking about...'
She checked herself, realising how close she had come to admitting her feelings. Suddenly she was frightened by that loss of control. 'I - I mean, thinking about Russia. The mission.'
She cursed silently to herself. She hadn't meant to let that slip out. James had seen straight through her stuttering backtrack, and this time, the look on his face was glaringly obvious.
'Of course you do,' he said shortly, changing gears with a vicious jerk.
'Why must everything always come back to him for you?' she hissed dangerously.
'Because it does!' James snapped, hitting his hand against the wheel. Ashleigh flinched at the angry gesture. 'Because he is alive, when he should be dead. He's mocking me, mocking me with every breath he takes. He's laughing at me.'
She stared at the rain hitting the passenger window, watching the drops as they raced across the glass. No, she thought with sudden stab of humiliation. He's not laughing at you. He's laughing at both of us.
The anger that had been carefully restrained in James was now pouring out. 'You should never have been involved with him. I don't care if you thought you had some feelings for him, you should never have been with him! He trapped you, manipulated you, and you were too weak to resist him. You believed yourself to be in some kind of debt to him, and it nearly got you killed!'
'Are you finished?' she snarled. 'Good. Don't you ever call me weak again!' She was spitting the words out with anger. 'I did what I thought was for the best, and in the end, it worked. Look at me, James! I'm here aren't I? I'm back in good old England, and putting everything behind me. I just want to go back to work and forget about him. But forgive me if I have the occasional lapse!'
It was perhaps the most frank conversation they had ever had. Glancing down, he saw her nails were cutting into her palms, gently he prised her fingers away, and took her hand. She managed a weak smile.
'What happened with him, in Russia,' she saw him cringe, but carried on all the same. 'What happened was that I made a fool of myself, and I admit, I found myself in way over my head. I ended up hurt, and most definitely alone. I'm learning to live with that now, and I know its over. In fact, it barely even began. It's over. He's dead to me now.'
He felt the tremble in her hand, and he squeezed it gently. 'Ashleigh,'
'No, you're right. He was nothing more than a very tenuous link to my father. I let him get in the way of the mission, and yes, that was unprofessional of me. I've had to learn that lesson the hard way, but I know it now, and nothing like that will ever happen again. Believe me.
He couldn't see her face in the darkness. 'Good,' he said softly.
They turned onto her street, a long thin avenue lined with pretty sycamore trees, their bare branches battered by the driving rain. James pulled over.
Leaning across, she lightly brushed her lips against his cheek, the first affectionate kiss she had given him in god knows how long. 'You know I never thanked you.'
'For what?'
'Looking after me. M put you in a difficult situation, but I think you did well. So thank you for looking after me out there, I couldn't have got through it without you. Particularly at the end. I've learnt a lot.'
There was almost a mischievous edge to her smile. Almost.
'You did well,' he admitted gruffly. For the most part, it was true. Just that one, notable exception...
She shrugged. 'Let's just see how well I do when I get back.'
'I could always put in a good word for you with M.'
At least she laughed. 'Are you deliberately trying to sabotage my career?'
No, he thought darkly. I've tried to. It seemed M hadn't paid the slightest jot of attention to his opinion.
She glanced up at her house. 'I'd better go.'
She slid out of the car, and with her shoulders bunched up against the rain, ran across the road and up the steps.
He watched as she struggled with her keys, until finally, she opened the door, and with a final wave, slipped inside.
In a year's time, she could be in training for a more senior status. Learning the skills and tactics that she would need as a 00 agent. Bond stood by his opinion that he had given M. She was still too young, but who knew what the next year held? Perhaps she could do it, after all, she was her father's daughter. So like David it was frightening at times. She could learn not to be so emotional. In fact, perhaps she was already learning.
He glanced around the street he was on. About five minutes drive away was a rather attractive raven-haired woman. It had been some time since he had seen her, but Beth had always been accommodating. Well... while he was in the area....
Inside her home, Ashleigh leant against the solid front door, and let out a long sigh. If she could fool James, then she could definitely fool herself.
Reaching out, she fumbled with the light switch. She no longer liked the once comforting presence of the dark. Her house was how she had left it hours earlier, neat, tidy, and uncluttered. Some would even venture to say it looked unlived in. Right now Ashleigh didn't care. It was still reasonably early, she could pour herself a drink, stick some music on, and try to drown out the thoughts in her head.
The vodka was so cold, it burnt her mouth. She relished each mouthful, letting it warm her from the inside. She slumped in a chair, curled her legs up, and felt close to calm.
She may have dozed off, she didn't know how long she sat there, but the banging on the front door scared her half to death. She yanked the door open, ready to give whoever it was a piece of her mind, but she stopped dead.
'Dan?' she asked. Shock was clear in her voice.
The man standing on her doorstep was tall, dark and handsome. A cliché, but one that Daniel Abelman pulled off admirably. His broad shoulders were emphasised by the battered leather jacket, blue jeans only highlighted the length of his legs. The black fine knit jumper was stretched over a toned chest, and the white of the T-shirt underneath showed off his olive skin to perfection. It was if he chose the clothes deliberately to show these things, but Ashleigh knew that more than likely he had simply picked up the first things that came to hand. Stubble darkened the strong jaw, and his dark brown eyes looked bruised and dangerous. But then, they always did.
She looked closer. There was a red flush across his cheekbones, the dark eyes seemed bloodshot, and there was a tension to his body. Had he been drinking? She glanced over his shoulder. His car was parked outside, the sleek black machine as lean as its owner. She seriously hoped he hadn't been drinking.
'What are you doing here, Dan?' she asked warily.
He stared at her for a moment, as if committing her face to memory. 'I heard rumours you might actually be in the country for once. I just had to come and check.'
'Well, you've checked. And I'm here. So if you don't mind, I'll say goodnight.'
'Ashleigh,' he said thickly, and put his foot in the way of the door.
'What?' she folded her arms across her chest.
'I brought you this,' he waved a bottle of red wine at her. 'Its only from the shop down the road, so it's not the greatest, but we could have a drink. We're friends aren't we?'
'Yes,' she admitted grudgingly. 'Yes, we're friends.'
It had been so long since she saw him. It would be so nice to have company for once, and Dan was always good company. He wasn't drunk, she realised, just... intense, for want of a better word. She couldn't figure him out.
'I'll get some glasses,' she sighed.
'Place hasn't changed a bit,' Dan muttered a few moments later as he walked around the living room.
'I'm never here, so what's the point in changing it?' Ashleigh shrugged. She handed him a glass. 'So tell me why you're here. I somehow doubt you were just in the neighbourhood.'
'I was working late. I knew you might be around, and I felt like seeing you.'
'Is that all?'
Dan ignored the question. 'Your company is doing well I see.'
'What?' she asked, not expecting him to say that. Oh, yes. Universal Exports. Dan was a stockbroker, a good one as well, at least, that's what he told her. He thought she was a financial advisor at U.E, and more often than not tried to drag her into a debate. She nodded. 'Seems to be.'
'Funny, everything else is losing points at the moment. U.E seems to be doing the opposite.'
Of course it was, Ashleigh thought as she sipped her wine. While the world was in turmoil, Universal Exports thrived. It was hardly discreet. 'Hmm,' she answered noncommittally.
'Sorry,' Dan gave her a boyish grin. Against her own will, she smiled back. 'No more shop talk, I promise.'
'Why are you here? Why now Dan?' She couldn't help but feel there was a reason for him being there, and she needed to know.
He was leaning forward, his long arms leaning on his long thigh muscles. Muscles that were strongly defined by years of playing rugby. Her rugby player. He glanced up at her through long, dark lashes. 'We were good together, weren't we?'
'When?' she asked, raising an eyebrow.
'Stop it, Ashleigh. I'm trying to be serious, without you playing one of your silly games!'
She paused, unsure how to take this. She had been completely thrown by the conversation. 'I-I'm sorry. I don't mean to.'
He let it go, intent on saying what he had come here to say. 'Just 'us' you know, you and I. Together.'
'Dan, we were students. We're talking a good four or five years ago now. Yes, we had fun, and we were good together, but I don't see why we're dragging the past up now.'
'Hardly the past.'
Ashleigh blushed. For the last few years, neither of them had had a serious relationship, preferring to throw themselves into their work. The passion that had seen them through university hadn't waned, despite their understanding that a proper relationship would be nothing but a disaster. Ashleigh had told Alec almost the complete truth - he was a friend, but occasionally, when she needed him, he would be there for her.
'Yes. Well,' she was flustered. 'What are you saying, Dan?'
'I want to try again. You and me, against the world.'
Against the world. Did he even have any idea what the world could throw at him?
Dan stared at the woman across the room from him. Ashleigh Kain. His teenage sweetheart? No, not quite. He had been twenty-three when he had first met the twenty year old Ashleigh. She was the first woman he had met that hadn't fallen instantly at his feet. She had been -what was the word? Aloof. Yes, aloof. That was perfect. Gradually he had broken down her barriers, until she had finally agreed to go out with him. His patience had paid off, and underneath the reserve he had found the passionate side of her. Once, he even thought he knew her. If he was honest with himself now, she was almost a stranger to him.
Daniel Abelman had been thinking long and hard about his career recently. Stocks and shares were all good and well, but the elusive promotion he wanted so badly had remained just out of his grasp. The third one had slipped by him, and once again he had watched in silent fury as a less efficient colleague had leaped above him. What did they have that he didn't?
The answer was obvious. They were settled. Married men, young children, they were seen as secure, and loyal. Dan may have been the harder worker, the more qualified for the position, but he was a young, single man, a different woman every weekend. And while no one said it to his face, it was clear that Faulkner and Dean, the company he worked for, preferred the settled man to the handsome playboy. Now there were rumours that could be another position opening up.
And so Dan had made a decision. Ashleigh was... she was independent. They worked well together, they always had fun. She was successful in her own right, attractive in her own strange way, and intelligent. A good woman to have on your arm when your bosses were looking in your direction. She was one of the few people he could envision a future with. He had loved her once; he could love her again.
Tonight though, she was playing hard to get.
She seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth. 'Why are you doing this to me now?'
He had hoped for a slightly more positive reaction. 'Because it's always been us. Why have we always fallen back into each other's arms? We're meant to be, I can see that, why can't you?'
She stayed silent.
'Is there someone else?' he growled.
Ashleigh frowned. There had been a time when Dan was all she wanted. The closest she had ever come to falling on love with someone. But it had been a long time ago. And now? There were too many... complications.
'No.' She shook her head vehemently. 'But even so, I don't want a relationship right now.'
She didn't think she could stand to be hurt again. Not while she still felt so raw.
'No, you just don't want a relationship with me. Is that it?'
'I can't speak to you when you're like this Dan. Just, please, try to understand. I have my career to think of.'
'If your career is so important, why have you taken so much time off recently?'
'I needed a break. Not that it's any of your business. As a matter of fact, I go back tomorrow.'
'Convenient.'
'Fact,' she snapped back. She sighed, and ran a hand through her short hair. 'Dan, I'm tired. And I really don't want to fight with you.'
'Then don't fight,' he moved so he was sitting next to her. 'I'm not saying we should just elope now, and get it over and done with, I just want you back in my life. On a more full time basis so to speak.'
Slowly, he inched an arm round her.
'Dan,' she warned.
'I'm your friend, Ashleigh, your friend.'
'I know.' She didn't have many. Perhaps she was being too harsh. It was just an idea after all. No pressure.
Gently he pulled her into his embrace. She let him, feeling the softness of his jumper against her cheek, the solid weight of his chin resting on top of her head. It was familiar, and warm, and she felt the tension leave her body. He was her friend. She could smell the warm, almost cinnamon scent of his aftershave, and the smell of mint on his breath. She could hear his heart, strong, and steady, soothing her with its gentle rhythm.
How long had it been since someone had just held her?
Too long.
She was feeling deliciously dizzy, the wine she had drank at dinner, the earlier vodka, and now the deep, fruity wine she sipped all adding to the warm sensations. She wasn't drunk, just... safe. She felt safe in Dan's arms, knew he would never hurt her, knew he only wanted what was best for her.
Would it be so terrible to fall for him?
Life was too short for being alone.
Her fingers lightly traced the stubble on his jaw. Like they had done a thousand times before. As she found his right cheekbone she paused. Apart from the stubble, his skin was so smooth, so perfect.
So wrong.
He mistook her confusion for hesitancy. His mouth found hers, gently, tenderly.
She was lonely. She tightened her arms around him and kissed him back.