Before we start this chapter, a few notes:
1. I don't remember a lot of Villanelle's backstory in Season 1. And I haven't read the books. I did try to look it up online, but no one seems to know what happened to her as a child. Her story apparently only starts with the whole mess with the teacher and prison. So, I'm sticking with what I had originally planned.
2. Again, still no editor, so mistakes are mine. Every once in a while, I read it through again, even after I post it, and fix some more, but, you know, be patient with me.
3. I don't speak Italian. Shame on me. I'm Italian and I don't speak a single word of it. I speak English, Portuguese, Spanish, French, and German. But no Italian. Really shame on me. So the Italian in this chapter comes from Google Translate. Please forgive me if I have butchered it.
4. I can't promise chapters twice a day. Not even daily. But I'm obsessed with Killing Eve and this story in my head, so I will update fairly often.
5. I also think that, based on Villanelle's singing on Season 2 (in the car with Konstantin, then in Rome), she uses songs to express what she's thinking. So, I've been using a lot of lyrics in italics. And I would love if you guys figured it out.
6. Reviews are more than welcome. Thank you for reading and sharing your time with me.
The restaurant wasn't far away from the edge overlooking Grotta Azzurra and they managed to get there in five minutes by foot. But before she got up to follow the MI6 agent, Villanelle had managed to discreetly pocket her knife again. If he had a knife, she'd better hold on to hers.
While they walked, she had also managed to steal a few glances of him, trying to size him up. He looked to be about her age, maybe one or two years older, with a lithe build, but a bit taller than she was. She already knew, from their small scuff earlier, that, while he didn't look buffed up, he was still quite strong. His pale skin was the colour of a crab and his brown hair looked a bit dry because of the sun, so she guessed he must have been in Capri for a while. He looked a bit less uncomfortable after shedding the long coat and fedora, but the dark blue pants and the light blue long sleeved button up still looked stuffy (if still gradient fashionable). And, as soon as they started walking, he folded up the sleeved of his shirt.
"So," she had started a minute after they had started walking "you're MI6." She had decided to drop the fake Italian accent. It was getting on her nerves anyway.
"Officially, yes."
She'd raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"
He'd let out a small laugh. "Not The Twelve. Don't worry."
That had seemed to satisfy her and she had just shrugged. She'd figured MI6 would be less likely to kill her, since they didn't particularly enjoy getting their hands dirty. Villanelle, after all had been manipulated by Carolyn and Konstantin to do their dirty job of killing Aaron Peel. So, they had walked the rest of the way in silence, the only sounds being the crash of the waves down the cliff, and Villanelle's humming. I'll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar. She'd touched the spot where Eve had stabbed her.
Once they had reached the restaurant, he had gone straight to a table on a varanda, overlooking the Mediterranean sea. It was a truly breathtaking sight, but Villanelle pretended to be unimpressed. He'd pulled a chair so she could sit, and she'd sat, with a huff and a puff, on the opposite chair.
"They have some marvellous pasta with seafood here. From what I understand, you're quite fond of spaghetti." He folded his hands together on the table and smiled his creepy little smile at her again. Spaghetti? Good idea.
"I want a lasagna." He chuckled, but called the waiter.
"Buon pomeriggio, signore. Vorresti ordinare ora?"
"Sì, grazie. Mi piacerebbe i fettucini con gamberetti e la signorina vorrebbe una lasagna. Con salsa di pomodoro in più." The waiter looked quickly at Villanelle, slouched in her chair, the sunglasses still covering half her face, playing with the cutlery on the table. "E per favore porta dell'acqua e il tuo miglior vino."
"Perfetto, signore."
After the waiter had left, the MI6 agent just turned to look at the sea, as if Villanelle wasn't even there. This little game that he was playing was starting to annoy her and she wanted to know how he knew some many things about her. For a long time she had prided herself on being a ghost, but ever since Eve had gotten in her way, it seemed that MI6 was always all over her business. It didn't help that Konstantin was in bed literally and figuratively with Carolyn. But, still, she didn't want to seem impatient or worried. She had to appear cool and detached, like nothing mattered to her. Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters… to me.
Finally he turned to look back at her. "Don't you want to ask about Eve?"
She stopped fiddling with the fork. "Why would I?"
"You shot her after she rejected you."
She took off her sunglasses and leaned over the table in his direction, dropping her voice to almost a whisper. "See, what I really wanna know is how you know that and all the rest you know about me."
"No Eve?"
She scoffed and leaned back on her chair, looking at the sea. "She doesn't care about me."
Silence. The waiter came back with two glasses of water and a bottle of wine. He made a spectacle of showing the MI6 agent the bottle, so he could see it was the house's best, and then opened the bottle, pouring a little bit in another glass he had brought and giving it to the agent to approve. But the latter kept looking at Villanelle and just signed that the waiter could pour the wine and leave.
"You know that's not true." He said in a softer tone. "She did try to help you in that dreadful situation in Rome. She was just as manipulated by Carolyn as you were by Konstantin."
"And how are you going to try to manipulate me now, uh?"
He smiled and took a sip of water. "That's where your family comes in."
"My family is dead. They're all dead. I don't have anyone." Villanelle crossed her arms in front of her chest, slouching even more in her chair.
"I get you're defensive about it." And at her dirty look, he help up his hands and added. "It's obvious from your body language. Arms crossed in front of you, almost being swallowed by your chair. A distrustful child would behave the same way."
She rolled her eyes.
"Anyway, like I said. I much prefer to get to the point than to beat around the bush with vague comments that hardly seem pertinent, even though they're somewhat humorous. That's Carolyn's specialty. You see, you have a half sister. She's fifteen older than you, and she's your father's daughter. Her mother died a couple of years after her birth, and he got together with your mother. But right after you were born, before you were even a year old, some men were sent to kill him. He apparently had brought on himself the wrath of some very powerful men in Russia. We don't know much about it, only that it involved the Americans. They killed everyone, but your sister managed to sneak away, taking you with her. Shortly after, the Americans found both of you, but figured it was too dangerous to keep you two together. So you were sent to an orphanage while she was offered a deal: help the Americans and get a new life in America. Needless to say, she took it. They gave her a new name, even a new face and memories, and hid her away." He raised an eyebrow to show he wasn't impressed and took another sip of his water.
Villanelle had stayed silent while he told the story of a woman that was supposed to be her half sister. Even as he was telling it, she didn't feel any excitement that she apparently had a sister, nor any resentment for being abandoned. She didn't even feel angry at the father that had gotten himself killed and left them without anyone. She didn't feel anything at all, but there was a spark of something and it was about… Eve, it's always about damn Eve. She didn't remotely care about the sister, but he had said something earlier that had stayed with her: Eve had tethers, while she didn't. What if she used this woman as her tether? Would Eve want her then?
She changed her expression to appear interested and hopeful. "And where is she?"
He smirked. "She lives in Alaska. The Americans figured the Russians wouldn't look to close to home, and I guess they were right. She is married and has three kids."
"If the Russians couldn't find her, then how could you?" She squinted her eyes at him, pretending to be suspicious of his story. In truth, she didn't care if the woman was her real sister or not, or even if she actually had a sister. She could work with what he was giving her. And she felt he knew it too.
"I'm just good at my job." He shrugged. "The Russians lost interest in her anyway."
"And what is your interest in her? And how does it involve me?"
"We need the information she told the Americans."
"Can't you just ask? You know, nicely?" She gave him a coy smile and touched the edge of the knife on the table. He didn't seem to mind it at all. He actually found it funny.
"It wouldn't matter. They managed to erase her memories. We need someone to jog them. That's where you come in."
"You think maybe she would remember the sister she abandoned, is that it?"
He shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe."
Villanelle just stared at him. Something in this story was fishy. Why would he go through all the trouble to track her down and let her know he knew a lot about her and about Eve, only to attempt something that he didn't even know would work?
"You're suspicious." She raised both eyebrows and rolled her eyes. Duh. He sighed. "I'm not trying to manipulate you like Carolyn and Konstantin did. This is the mission I was given and there isn't another way to go about it, even if this way doesn't seem that reliable. Also," He lowered his voice "I want to mess with Carolyn. We have some…" He made some gestures with his hands. "bad blood between us."
She grabbed a hold of her fork, holding it upright, with its dents facing the table. She could stab him in a swift move.
"Carolyn's clean up crew found Eve. Well, technically, I found her, but since I wasn't supposed to be there, I made sure they found her. So," He cleared his throat "Carolyn has Eve."
He moved his hand to grab her hand that was holding the fork. She tried to pull away from the contact, but he held it steadfast.
"Eve isn't safe." She pulled away harder. He held tighter. "Don't you see? I need you to go and save her."
"I shot her, why would I save her?"
"Because you lover her." He let go of her hand and sighed. "Look, what I'm offering here is pretty simple. I help you, you help me. You get together with your sister, I get the information I want, and you get the girl."
"This sounds way too easy. I'm not stupid." It did sound way too easy. And nothing with Eve was easy. Villanelle thought that by killing Raymond, easy, Eve would realise that they belonged together. It was supposed to be easy. And, yet, oh look what you made me do, look what you made me do.
"It's not." In a swift and surprising move, he took away the fork in her hand and placed it just on top of it. He stared intently at it. "I could very well just stab you. Right here, right now. I very much want to stab you because you're being so dense and stupid. And I'm sure that if Eve were in my shoes, she'd want to stab you, too." He let out a little laugh. "Well, she did stab you." He pressed the fork deeper against the back of her hand. It was starting to leave a mark. "It's not easy, I can tell you that. But I need you to do something for me, and you want something that I can help you with. So it's a trade. And, in the end, if we don't end up killing one another, we might just get what we want." He looked at her and smiled. "And, trust me, I will kill you if you get in my way."
He dropped the fork right before the waiter appeared with the food. The MI6 agent was back to being nice and gentle.
"Grazie."
"You're not the first one to try to kill me, you know." Villanelle said after the waiter left. "Not even, like, the tenth. I'm not scared of you." She laughed and started poking her lasagna with the fork, stabbing it repeatedly.
He seemed to think about it. "That's foolish of you. But I guess that's on you. It's your life to gamble with. But what about Eve's?" He swirled some pasta around his fork and stabbed a little shrimp before eating it.
"I told you I don't care about her."
"Then I guess I can proceed to dispose of her."
She almost choked. "Dispose of her?"
"I told you. Carolyn has her."
"So? Carolyn wouldn't kill her."
"Oh, but I would."
"Why?"
"Because Eve is tangled in this mess. Carolyn used her to get what she wanted. First, to deal with the Russians and Konstantin and you. Then, to capture the Ghost. And afterwards to get you to kill Aaron Peel. Eve didn't leave a paper trail because Carolyn didn't give her paperwork. So, in the official eyes of the MI6, she doesn't exist. That's all nice and pretty for Carolyn because then she doesn't have to take responsibility for Peel's death. Or you. Or Konstantin. But a death of a civilian that apparently had nothing to do with MI6 but that still knew a lot about secret MI6 operations, while she was being guarded by an MI6 agent… That's not pretty."
Villanelle was still confused. She hated these spy games. Why couldn't they just be straight forward and kill whoever they had to kill, or whatever it was that they did. She never really bothered to know why she was killing whoever The Twelve sent her to kill. It didn't matter. She got them killed, she got money, she got clothes, she was happy. Well, not really happy, but… ugh.
"Carolyn is in my way and I would like her out of it. I either remove her by delivering something better than what she has, or I destroy her. The choice is now yours."
She could just get up and leave and let them deal with that whole mess. As she once told Eve, she liked her, but she didn't like her that much. I love you. No. I do. You're mine. Eve was hers. Hers.
"You can have everything you want." She looked at him. "Yes, even Eve."
She took another bite of her lasagna and chewed it slowly. She had also once told Eve all she wanted was a normal life. And Eve had to go and ruin it for her because now she couldn't envision a normal life that didn't involve Eve and stupid Shepard pies. Eve understood her. Eve knew how to deal with her better than anyone else. Konstantin had been the only other one, but he had just used her. Eve, on the other hand, had rushed in to save her twice, even though Villanelle had manipulated her those two times. Oops.
She swallowed and nodded her head. Eve was hers, after all. "Fine. I'll do what you want. But you have to get Eve from Carolyn first."
He smiled and raised his wine glass to cheer. "Worry not. Everything is already well on its way."
She just shrugged and raised her glass to his. "I still don't know your name."
He clinked their glasses. "You can call me George."