Ghost

Author's Note:I just wrote this and I'm sorry for the gap in updates. On another note as I just wrote this it has not been beta'd and some of the dialogue is meant to be Italian but I having had it translated yet so until I re-upload the Italian phrases any spoken Italian will appear like this "How could you?". I hope you enjoy this and feel free to share your thoughts on how this is going and all.

-

The moment Vesper Lynd excused herself from the table to go to the bathroom she headed upstairs through the tiny kitchen and to the spare room where she had been living. It took her only a few minutes to pack her few belongings into a cotton shoulder bag, grab the money she had hidden, and change into something a little more practical for running away.

Her stomach was twisting uneasily as she thought of Alisa downstairs and her friends. She didn't want to lie, she didn't want to leave and in theory deceive Alisa after everything she had done to help Vesper but she knew that James was going to be here soon.

She wanted to see him, she really did. But she couldn't take it. She was running, again. She wanted to be able to just stay here and wait it out. Wait for him. But knowing that those loving blue eyes would be full of anger, be void of emotion, it terrified her.

He would be angry at her, would hate her. Maybe he would still love her...maybe. But she also realised that she was a traitor to her country and that he may bring her in. She couldn't let that happen. If she wasn't pregnant she may have handed herself in ages ago but with his child...no she was going to raise her child if it was the last thing she did.

She wasn't being rational, she knew that much, but at the moment getting away from here seemed right.

Warm laughter seeped through the wooden floorboards from downstairs. The twist in her stomach seemed to create an extra knot. She felt slightly sick. She could wait, should also properly say goodbye to Alisa instead of just leaving in the middle of Christmas lunch without a word. But no - she should just leave it - it was like ripping of a band aid, the wuoicker the less painful.

With a heavy heart she scribbled a quick note, thanking the older woman for everything, before she slung her bag over her shoulder and snuck out the back door and into the cold.

-

She heard the door creak open.

And then she heard it squeak as it closed.

Alisa Rossa sat at the large wooden table, surrounded by some of her oldest friends – friends who now all lived alone as their children, nieces and nephews braved the new world. She was half way through a large bowl of pasta that she and Stephanie had made from scratch, listing to Romeo's tales about his granddaughter who was studying abroad when she heard the door.

It wasn't a loud sound, just one she noticed after years of living in this house. Her mind immediately flickered to Stephanie excusing herself from the table and then it was like her stomach dropped. Her mouth felt dry, her eyes wide.

"Excuse me," she said, standing up. She left the table and wove her way through the other tables and to the kitchen. Entering she passed the old stove, and bench and into a small hallway which had a spiral staircase at one end and led to the back door at the other.

She stood there for a moment, listening carefully for the flush of the toilet or for a sound from upstairs. Just something to tell her that Stephanie was still here. She heard none. The phone call... the man whom she was running from... no, she couldn't have run – could she?

Alisa rushed towards the back door and flung it open. She scanned up and down the alleyway, her heart racing; her old eyes straining against the darkness that was quickly claiming her town as the night wielded her mighty shadow against the rays of the sun.

In the distance she saw a solitary figure against the last rays of sun, trudging slowly down the street. Alisa instantly cried out Stephanie's name and figure froze. The only sounds around them were laughter and chatter from other houses, animals howling or snuffling about, and that shout that seemed to echo.

Alisa hobbled up to Stephanie, who remained still; upon reaching Stephanie the two women faced each other: Alisa began chastising the young woman for her foolishness while Stephanie stood like a small child, eyes teary.

"Why?" asked Alisa shrilly, "How could you risk your child?! It is cold! The disregard you have for yourself is another matter but to place his young soul at risk? Before he can even breathe and be loved by his mama?"

"He'll find me…he'll…" she stammered.

"And we'll protect you," said Alisa firmly, "My friends consider you family," she pointed to Stephanie and back to herself, "family."

"Protect…" said Stephanie softly, "Alisa you don't understand –"

"He is dangerous – yes?"

Stephanie gave a nod. "He wouldn't…but the people who could follow…"

Alisa sighed and shook her head, "If you must leave please wait until we can make the proper arrangements – please be sensible,"

She hated saying the words because having Stephanie leave would reopen those old wounds that had started to heal. She didn't want to lose another daughter but she knew she couldn't force Stephanie to stay. No, she had to keep her here for another few days, try and talk sense…and then she could talk to Gene, her old friend, about Stephanie living with him in Greece. She would be safe there.

Alisa watched Stephanie's face trying to gauge her response. At long last she nodded and the weight on Alisa's heart lessened; only sightly.

-

Finding her hadn't been an issue.

It had only taken a number of minutes to find her and discover that Vesper was in the Italian town of Spinea using the landline phone of an Alisa Rosso who lived above her small cafe. But he had had to move fast. He suspected she was staying near there and that she would probably move soon. That call would have been strictly impulsive.

She could be waiting for him and then again she could believe that he had never connected her to the phone call but he seriously doubted that. Vesper was smart. She would know he would connect the dots. The question was if she really wanted to be found or not. And by the sound of her voice and the abrupt call she most likely didn't want to be found.

He had just arrived in Rome and it was midnight on Christmas Day. There were very few flights running but James had managed to get a seat. The flight had been uneventful and James had spent it with his eyes closed, listening to the voices on the in flight movie; his thoughts on Vesper. Once the plane landed he quickly passed through Customs and headed towards the closest Rent-A-Car, shouldering his bag as he walked briskly through the airport.

He looked around the baggage claim area as he waited, noticing the various exit points. The German couple in front of him finished the paperwork and walked towards the carpale The moment the attendant called "Next" he almost leaped formed, eager to get to Spinea and hopefully her.

Once the paperwork was completed James took off, ignoring the cold and his fatigue He hopped into the car and navigated his way out of the airport and settled in for the five hour drive, along the Italian countryside; praying that she was still there.

-

Mr White was reading through Bram Stroker's Dracula when one of his employees notified him that James Bond had just arrived in Rome. After his last encounter with the hot headed Double-O Mr White had taken the precaution to know every single thing about his enemy, including putting traces on all his passports and cards.

He had to admire Mi6's head for the way she was handling Quantum: though trying to ferret out every single spy was kind of pointless, and for also keeping Bond locked up for a month of 'rest and recreation'. This had given Quantum a little extra time to clean up some 'loose-ends'.

Upon hearing Bond was in Rome, he immediately stopped reading. He strolled to his window and glanced over the city of Rome, wondering if Bond had tracked him down. He needed to know if Bond was here on 'Quantum business' or some other mission.

He packed his bags and organised to be driven to France as well as informing his men to find out what the hell Bond was doing in Rome – and fast.

-

Alisa heard her doorbell ring.

Alisa awoke from her the depths of her slumber, and sat up. She heard the floorboards creaking in Stephanie's room and alarm bells went off in her head. She clambered out of bed; walking into the living room she saw Stephanie standing by the staircase, biting her lip.

The doorbell rang again, and Stephanie's words echoed in her head.

"It's him?" whispered Alisa fearfully, confused as to how he had actually found them. It was like something out of the those spy films that

Stephanie nodded.

"Stay here, I'll –"

"I can do this," said Stephanie softly, "I have too,"

-

He stood impatiently by the front door of Alisa Rosso's café.

It was about six in the morning; James Bond was psychically and emotionally exhausted after the five hour drive from Rome; the only thing that had kept him going was his desire to know, to know if she was here, and alive and most importantly safe.

He heard movement upstairs; fighting the urge to yawn. He bit his tongue hoping the pain would jerk him awake. It didn't, just made his tongue throb slightly. He sighed, running his hand through his hair; seriously considering if he should just kick the door down.

The movement was coming closer and he breathed deeply. It was a matter of seconds, of moments. He wished that the curtains hadn't been drawn so that he could see; he shifted to the side trying to see through a small gap between the curtains that hid the inside.

His heart jumped as a key entered a lock.

And when the door opened; he saw her; his heart stopped.

TBC