Eve Moneypenny never was one to avoid a challenge. She had been given five minutes warning before Lucia Sciarra was dropped off at her door step by Felix Leiter. Q had packed his things in a hurry, worrying about their rogue mission being compromised by the lady in black. She stood tall in the small hallway of Moneypenny's flat. Tall and dignified. And utterly lost.
When Bond had met up with Q in her flat, laying the groundwork for a secret mission set by old M, Moneypenny had gotten the task to read up on the Sciarra's. Information had been scarce, especially on Lucia, but with Q's help the two of them had found small pieces of a puzzle that was this woman, who now stood still and silent a few feet away from the door that had been closed by Leiter and locked by Moneypenny.
"Uhm, would you like a cup of tea?" was all Moneypenny managed, wondering how to approach a member of Spectre.
Former member, she corrected herself, trying to avoid other lines of thinking while looking at the gorgeous, elegant woman in front of her.
Lucia considered her with tired eyes. She answered in a low voice, giving a small nod.
"Yes. Thank you."
Moneypenny went back to the kitchen, trying to figure out how to make her guest comfortable. Bond had given Q a short account about his night with Lucia. They had to keep her alive, since she must definitely knew more than she already had divulged to Bond. M, their old M, had been right when her last command–given from the grave–was for Bond to kill Marco Sciarra to begin the unravelling of Spectre. She knew Bond would be able to use his insufferable womanising to get the information they needed from his widow. And of course Bond had slept with her. Who wouldn't, Moneypenny thought before she could stop herself.
When the tea was ready, she put the mugs on the kitchen table and quietly asked Lucia to join her. Even now the woman responded hesitantly, movement restricted to the bare minimum needed to cover the few steps further away from the door and into the kitchen.
They sat in silence, Lucia's sad, soulful eyes staring unseeing at the table. Sipping the tea, Moneypenny went over the small bits and pieces they new about Lucia Sciarra. She had been one of Marco's prostitutes, before he had married her. She had been young at that time, eighteen maybe twenty years old. Not even Q had been able to find Lucia's birth name or even a reliable birthday, let alone anything about her parents. Lucia herself probably didn't know, being abducted from her parents at a young age, to be trafficked into prostitution.
Somehow she had gained Marco's trust and became his wife, managing to carve a small powerful base for herself within Spectre and Marco's own organisation. Keeping her position as his wife must have been difficult, Moneypenny surmised. Q had found evidence that Marco time and again had used his wife as a bargaining chip. She would have to seduce friends and enemies, for Marco to test loyalties, retrieve information, or make extortion possible. And she had been loyal to a fault. A loyalty that had given her respect, if some of the taped conversations of Marco's henchmen were anything to go by. But also a loyalty that came at a price.
With Bond killing her husband, Lucia had become a liability for Spectre. She knew too much, being a part of the game for so long.
Moneypenny wondered what Bond had planned for her. Did he really think Moneypenny would be able to turn Lucia? Or–Moneypenny hid a smile by lifting the mug–or could it be that Bond did know about Moneypenny's proclivities for tall, experienced women, especially women who had this incredibly majestic bearing and mysterious past?
Stupid fool, she scolded herself, Lucia is way out of my league.
A woman should have her dreams, her treacherous mind replied.
With a small sigh and a shake of her head, Moneypenny returned to more immediate challenges.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, hoping to get some kind of acknowledgement from Lucia.
She had barely touched her tea.
"What are you trying to do?"
Her melodic voice barely concealed her resentment.
"If I let you go hungry, I'm certain Bond will never forgive me," Moneypenny said. "Killing him is one thing, but neglecting one of his conquests–" she muttered sarcastically, shaking her head to indicate how unacceptable the latter was.
That got Lucia's attention.
"You killed Bond?"
She sat up straighter, if that even was possible, her eyes sparking a new kind of interest. She gave Moneypenny a once over that had her shivering with a mixture of anticipation and not too little trepidation. Moneypenny might be a well trained agent and Lucia a displaced, grieving widow–but if it came to a fight, Moneypenny wouldn't bet on who were to win.
"It's easy enough to kill him," Moneypenny said lightly. "It's the staying dead part he hasn't learned yet–but shooting him off the roof of a moving train and watching him fall several hundred feet down into a lake should count for something."
She winked at Lucia.
"Anybody else would certainly have been dead as soon as they'd hit the water," she complained wryly.
When a small, happy smile spread on Lucia's face, Moneypenny watched with increasing delight. Lucia's eyes were beaming even before her lips curved up. Her schooled, controlled mask slowly falling away.
"And he trusts you to take care of his captives?"
Now, Lucia was most definitely amused by the thought. It was as if a spark had brought her to life and Moneypenny could just sit and watch in awe. Gorgeous didn't cut it. Lucia was a bright light, utterly dazzling.
"You're not a captive."
Lucia frowned.
"Bond send you here for me to take care of you. To keep you safe."
To make love to you, Moneypenny wanted to add, but held her tongue. Barely. She could see when Lucia realised that something had been left unsaid. Her expressive face showing doubt and fear, before surprised disbelief took over. Then, her eyes went wide and with a small, almost wicked grin, Lucia sent Moneypenny's imagination on a wild spin.