He hadn▓t known who she really was, of course. All he had known was that she was a woman that had until his untimely demise a week ago had been in Auric Goldfinger▓s personal employ. She had been undercover, deep undercover. Even lost her accent. Adopted a ridiculous name to fit with her cover. Pussy Galore. Ugh. When Mother had slid that name across to her, she had been sorely tempted to resign then and there, but there was that damnable sense of duty of hers that kept her lips shut and like a ▒good girl▓ had gone off to America. With that name.
She sighed a little to herself. After all but over a year of having to pretend she was a devotee of the Isle of Lesbos it had felt good to get some proper physical release. Yes, proper, only proper. Proper Cathy Gale. When her husband had died, she had known that her every word, every action around other men would be scrutinized by prying judgmental eyes. Her only choice was to be proper. The word turned over in her mind, striking her as funny and sad in equal turns. That was her reputation after all. John often re..mind┘she caught herself. John had a new partner now, she reminded herself coldly.
Cathy had heard of Mrs. Emma Peel in passing at the Ministry. Some wife of a physicist or some scientist or other. Bright girl in her own right by all accounts. Still...she wondered how the poor girl was holding up. Steed could be infuriating and charming or even infuriatingly charming. Charming enough even for proper Cathy Gale.
She picked up her brush and sighed a little. James had reminded her very much of her John. That same cruel charm, that same way of being unassumingly dangerous. That same way of getting what they wanted. James was more of a blunt instrument, though compared to Steed. Not that she had been in any position to care very much. What similarities there were had been enough for her. When James had taken her in the barn, it had felt amazing, like a long held breath that had waited to be released and finally given the chance. She had felt like a woman for the first time in so long. Not since she and John had┘.had started to┘ but that was the past now. She was sure a man like John Steed would wait for no silly girl like Cathy Gale. Proper poor Cathy Gale.
She sighed a bit and brushed her hair back, glancing outside at the bright Kentucky morning. Her eyes closed a moment. He▓d be here soon. With Peel. Irrationally, Cathy hoped she was some mannish thing. Glasses, no style, no sophistication, some dull-witted brunette. Somebody John would find horribly unappealing, maintaining nothing more than a working relationship with, somebody who┘who wouldn▓t replace her.
A dull roar reached her ears. A dull roar she▓d have recognized anywhere, anytime. Steed▓s 4.5 L Bentley. Oh, how he adored that car. Sometimes she swore he put more care into the Bentley than into his work or her. She would not be some silly girl and run to meet him. He could come up to meet her. Proper.
Control your breathing, she told herself. Control. In, out.
The knock came. She put the brush down. She stood up.
The door opened.
Well, she was a brunette, anyway.
That was where everything else went wrong.
Mrs. Emma Peel was beautiful, an equal beauty to her own. Classical elegant features, backswept brunette hair. Her dark brown eyes were alive with intelligence and a wry humor she was all but certain would keep Steed▓s attention. Cathy noted they stood close together, a distance she recognized as ▒familiar▓. She mastered her emotions after what she was sure was an all too suspicious and jealous narrowing of her eyes as she surveyed the new partner to John Steed.
⌠Cathy, so good to see you again. Mother sends his warmest regards.■ Steed said with a smile as he doffed his bowler. Mrs. Peel smiled as well, either she didn▓t care or was unaware of what her relationship had been to John.
⌠Steed▓s told me so much about you, I▓m almost jealous. I doubt he would remember what my favorite flower is!■ Mrs. Peel said with a small playful smile.
⌠I bet he got it wrong,■ Cathy smiled, ⌠Going to come in or not?■ She said with a light challenge to her voice.
Ever the gentleman, Steed allowed Mrs. Peel to enter first, closing the door behind him as he brought up the rear guard.
⌠Been enjoying the Southern sun?■ Steed said as he glanced about Cathy▓s small apartment. Emma for her part had her arms crossed at her stomach, apparently allowing the two former partners the courtesy of staying silent.
⌠Oh, some, Steed, some┘almost have a tan, you know.■ She smiled briefly at him. ⌠It is good to see you again, too.■ ⌠Nasty business this, isn▓t it? Nuclear weapons and all that. Give me a shrinking ray or a cyborg invasion any day of the week and twice on Mother▓s Day.■ He smiled, ▒But of course the Americans never can do anything simple like that┘■
⌠Everything▓s big here, especially their egos.■ She smiled back. Old times. ⌠Hopefully that Bond fellow was of some use to you. It▓s amazing what those Secret Service fellows don▓t know about what we do┘ did he really think there existed in this world a girl named Pussy Galore?■ Steed looked at her bemused at the very notion that this silly name had fooled one of the best Her Majesty▓s Secret Service had to offer. Oh, why did he have to be so damnably handsome! Her heart quickened apace although it did not show in her usual cool countenance.
⌠Apparently.■ She didn▓t really want to talk about James. And wouldn▓t. Time to move on to their next assignment. Time to move on like she always did. She let the partners depart ahead of her. Proper.