A/N: Thank you for the review!

M smoothed down her jacket then ran a hand over her slacks. "Is this really what I should wear?"

"Marti, stop fussing so." James told her as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's going to be alright."

"Is it?"

"I've never seen you this way before."

"I can't help it, James." She turned into him, letting him cuddle her. "I'm the reason she was taken."

"Marti, it's not your fault."

"You keep saying that, but it is my fault."

"And you keep saying that. You didn't take her or hire the men to take her, did you? You didn't set out for revenge, did you? You didn't make her look like you, did you?"

"You sound like a broken record." M sighed and settled further into his embrace. "Thank you for last night."

Nuzzling her neck, James smiled at her change of subject. "No need to thank me when the pleasure was all mine," he said as he nibbled her earlobe, letting the subject of her guilt go for the time being.

"Well," she started then moaned. "Ooh, not all of it."

James' hands fondled her breasts through her jacket. "You'll be fine, Marti. I'll be waiting right here for you with dinner and some loving."

Pulling back, M smiled up at him. "Just some?"

James shook his head as he cupped her face. "No, not just some. I'll give you everything you want."

Smiling up at him, M nodded. "What I want will depend on how badly this goes."

"It isn't going to go badly."

"Keep saying that." M whispered as she straightened herself. "You mussed me."

James shook his head. "What did you expect me to do with you pressed up against me?"

M gave him a scowl then smiled. "You're very good for an old woman's ego."

"You are not old." James scowled back at her. "I can go with you if you'd like."

M shook her head as she walked to where her coat was. "No. I need to do this myself."

"Alright. Then my offer stands." James told her as he helped her into her coat. Turning her to face him, he caressed her cheek. "I'll be waiting with open arms, Marti. Just remember that."

M shivered at the low, deep rumble of his voice. "How could I forget?" she asked him with a smile as she pressed a light kiss on his lips. "Give Q a call, hmm?"

"I was going to. I promise to text you if he has any new information."

"Thank you, James."

James watched M as she made her way out to her waiting car and sighed. He hadn't let her see, but he was just as worried about how this meeting would go as she was. Just seeing the woman and being reminded by the bandages on her face, what had happened to her was going to be hard enough. He knew from the medical reports they'd received from the hospital that Mrs. Hardcastle would be undergoing cosmetic surgery next week, which was a good thing. He was also sure it was something that M's superiors would be squawking about. He had a feeling their squawking would be silenced with one of M's death glares.

He shivered when he remembered the first time she'd leveled him with that glare. He'd faced down men triple her size, hell, twice his size, without reaction other than the fight. And yet…this petite woman with the most stunning blue eyes he'd ever seen, levels him with just a look and he'd been near quaking in his shoes.

Dangerous, and most probably deadly when need be.

Then he smiled as he remembered their first night together.

He was sure that once he'd made her fully realize that she was still a very desirable woman, no doubts left in her mind so that she was willing to take more of a lead in their love making, that dangerous would take on a whole new meaning.

And he couldn't wait.

Now though, he would go out to the store and get the ingredients he'd need to make her a special dinner. Wine, dine, and make love – in that order.

MJJL

Lionel stared down at M as she waited patiently to be let inside. "I didn't want this."

"I can leave."

"No." He shook his head. "Jean needs to meet you and I'll do whatever she wants." Lionel saw the pain flash in M's eyes and had to look away. Clearing his throat, he moved to let her inside. Closing the door after her, he pointed to the library door. "Jean's in there. I'll go ask Mrs. Bale to bring tea."

M nodded, surprised that he wouldn't be going in with her. Waiting until he'd disappeared around the corner, she turned and walked to the door. Reaching out, she took a deep breath as she lifted her hand to knock.

"Come in," sounded from behind the door.

Steadying herself, M opened the door and walked inside coming face to face with her exact duplicate.

Jean stared at the woman standing before her. She felt as though she were in a bad movie at the cinema. It was utterly surreal to be sitting, staring at a person who looked exactly like her. "So you're M."

M nodded. "I am," she acknowledged quietly.

"Come, sit." Jean nodded toward the chair beside her bed. "I'm sorry not to get up, but," she shrugged as she held up a bandaged foot.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing." M whispered as she sat down and stared at the tips of her right hand.

"Let me see." Jean held out her hand for M's. Staring down at the scars, she traced them gently. "So this is why he finally believed me."

"Yes. I knew that if he touched your hand, it would give you away."

"How did it happen?" Jean asked quietly as she continued to study the scars. The silence made her look up, and the haunted look in her double's eyes gave her the answer. "You were tortured."

"Yes, I was." M confirmed softly. "They wrapped my fingers around a heated gun barrel."

Studying the woman, Jean titled her head and let go of her hand. "They did more than that."

"Yes."

"So you know what I'm going through." Jean bit her lip. "Only I think, you had it worse."

"Torture is torture, Mrs. Hardcastle." M told the woman quietly. "And yes, I know."

"Did you have someone like my Lionel?"

M smiled sadly and nodded. "I did. The man who rescued me. We were married two years later."

"You've lost him."

"Years ago. He was," M bit her lip and shook her head.

"Ah. Job related death." Jean guessed. Hearing the knock on the door, she called out for Mrs. Bale to enter, knowing instinctively that Lionel wouldn't be back until much later.

Mrs. Bale stopped and nearly dumped the tray she carried when she caught sight of M. Looking from one woman to the other and back again, she blinked to clear her eyes. "Mrs. Hardcastle?"

"We told you she looked like me." Jean smiled at the housekeeper.

"Indeed, but it is still a bit startling." Mrs. Bale told her as she moved to set the tray down on the beside table. "Shall I pour?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Bale. We'll be alright."

"Just ring if you need anything else."

"I will. Where is Lionel?"

"Mr. Hardcastle Jr. is out in the garden with Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle Sr."

Jean smiled at the look on M's face as she nodded at Mrs. Bale. "Thank you."

M watched the housekeeper leave then turned to Jean. "She's an odd duck."

"Yes, she is, but she's very loyal to us. This whole thing has shaken her up a bit."

"Hasn't it shaken you all up more than a bit?"

Jean nodded. "It has. Lionel I think most of all."

"Because he loves you." M stared down into the cup of tea Jean handed her. "He told me how you met and how you lost each other for thirty eight years. He," she bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "He begged me to find you because he didn't want to be lost again."

Jean felt her eyes fill with tears. "He didn't have a very happy life. His first wife was a cold woman."

"And he was still in love with you." M whispered as she gave Jean a knowing look.

"Yes." Jean nodded as she lifted a hand to her face. "He cried when he saw my face."

"He cried when he saw you after we found you in that abandoned building." M sipped her tea then continued. "I'm so very sorry, Mrs. Hardcastle. I should have been the one tortured."

"Yes, you're right. You should have been." Lionel said from his place in the open door.

"Lionel!" Jean gasped as she looked at her husband. She'd never heard him speak in such a way. As she studied him, she saw the anger and pain in his eyes and realized that this was why he hadn't wanted her to meet with M.

"It's quite alright, Mrs. Hardcastle. He's only expressing my sentiments as well as those of my superiors."

Jean blinked at that. "I don't think I understand."

"I have training for such things, Mrs. Hardcastle, and it is my duty to Queen and country. You've no such training or duty."

"I still don't see how Lionel could be so," Jean shook her head, too confused to go on.

"He loves you, Mrs. Hardcastle. He's heard you scream in terror from a nightmare. He's seen you cry. He's seen the marks and bruises they left on you. A man as much in love with his wife as your Lionel is, has every right to feel as he does toward me." M stood and leaned over to place her tea cup and saucer back on the tray. "I think I'd best be going. Good luck with your surgery next week."

"What is your real name? Surely you are more than just a letter." Jean whispered, stopping M before she could make it to the door.

"I am no more than a letter, Mrs. Hardcastle. It is who I had to become when I took this position."

Jean watched M leave then looked at Lionel. "She doesn't deserve to be hated, Lionel. She didn't do this to me. It isn't her fault that by some quirk of nature we look identical to each other. She feels guilty enough without us adding to it."

Lionel shook his head. "I'll be right back."

Jean smiled at him and nodded, whispering, "That's my love," as he walked from the room.

"M." Lionel called as he caught up with her outside. "Wait a moment."

M sighed then turned and looked at Lionel. "Yes, Mr. Hardcastle?"

"I'm sorry." Lionel apologized quietly. "Jean made me see how wrong I was. She said that it wasn't your fault that a quirk of nature made the two of you identical. And she was right." Reaching out, he touched her arm. "It isn't your fault."

"Thank you, Mr. Hardcastle." M nodded. "Now, go back in to your wife."

Lionel reached into his pocket and pulled out the mobile she'd given him. "Here. I don't believe we'll need this anymore."

"No, you're right. You won't." M took the phone and slid it into her pocket. "Goodbye, Mr. Hardcastle."

Lionel watched as M slid into the back seat of her waiting car then turned and walked back into the house. He knew they'd never hear from the woman again, but he couldn't help but think that now that they knew about her…well, he wasn't sure if they'd seen the last of her.

"Lionel." Jean called when she heard the door close. "Come here, Love."

Lionel walked into the library and smiled. "I love you, Jean Hardcastle."

Holding out her arms, Jean wrapped them around him when he settled against her. "I love you, too." Caressing Lionel's head, she pressed a kiss to the top. "I feel sorry for her."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn't have anyone to love her like you love me."

MJJL

M walked into James' arms and buried her face in his chest. "She's," she started then shook her head.

James held M close, his hand caressing her back. "She's everything you would have been had you gone another way," he finished for her. "But if you'd gone another way, so many things would have gone the wrong way because you wouldn't have been there to deal with them and make them go in our favor." He smiled when she looked up at him. "You've done so much for your country, Marti. Besides," he whispered as he wiped at her tears with his thumbs. "You never would have met your Thomas," he leaned closer before finishing, "or me."

"Oh James." M sighed then pulled back. "She should hate me, but she doesn't. She told me the same thing you've been telling me." She shook her head. "I just don't understand how she could possibly feel sorry for me after what she's been through. She guessed that I'd been tortured."

"Her husband did tell you that you and she were a lot alike."

"So he did." M rolled her head and rubbed her temple. "I really should go to the office."

"It's Saturday, M. There's no need for it."

"I still should go in. The PM and the others are continuing to breathe down my neck over this whole mess."

"I don't give a feck what the PM and those asshats think, you're not going in."

M laughed at the mental image James' adjective conjured. Reaching up and cupping the back of his head, she pulled him down to press a kiss to his lips. "Cheeky bugger," she murmured.

Caressing over the curve of her buttocks, James patted her. "Go rest. You'll have time for a nice nap and a soak in a warm bath before dinner."

"You don't want me to stay here and help you?" she asked as she caressed his chest.

"No, I don't. I have this all planned out and I intend to stick to that plan. You being here in the room with me will only distract me."

"And just what is your plan? Ply me with food and wine and then get me into bed?"

James grinned. "Wine, dine, make love. In that order."

"Mmm, I think I like the sound of that."

"You need a bit of pampering after today. Now go on." He gently nudged her in the direction of his bedroom, watching as she walked slowly and tiredly out of the room. He sighed and turned back to the kitchen. He hadn't asked how Mr. Hardcastle had acted, but he really didn't need to. He could guess because it was the way he would feel, though it wasn't rational to feel that way.

M wasn't responsible for what had happened. He knew that, kept telling her that. But yet, if he were in Mr. Hardcastle's place, he'd put the blame squarely on the shoulders of the woman his wife had been mistaken for.

MJJL

M hummed into the soft kiss against her lips. "James, how lovely," she whispered as she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.

James handed her a glass of wine and winked at her. "Enjoying your soak?"

"Immensely," she answered after taking a sip of her wine.

"Well, dinner is nearly done and your water almost cold, so come on," he took the wine glass from her after she'd taken another sip. "Let me help you out of the tub." He placed the glass on the floor away from them then turned back to her with a big fluffy towel.

M stood and smiled as James held out his hand to help her then wrapped her up in the towel he'd warmed by the fire. "Mmm, this feels nice."

Gently patting her dry, James returned her smile. "You smell nice. I take it you like my choice of bath oil?"

"Did you buy it just for me?"

"I did."

"It's wonderful. Very relaxing scent."

"That's what I was hoping for." James told her as he finished patting her dry. "Now," he turned to hang the towel on the wrack by the door then lifted a shirt from the hook. "Why don't you just wear this for the time being. No sense in getting back into that suit. I want you to stay comfortable." He stepped closer, helping her into the shirt. "Besides, this will make it easier for me later on."

M smiled then wrinkled her nose at him when he laughed at the way the way her arms got lost in the sleeves of his shirt. "Oh hush," she hissed, trying not to laugh with him.

"Let me help you with that, Little Bit."

M raised an eyebrow. "Little Bit?"

"Yes." James nodded as he concentrated on rolling up the sleeves. "My little bit of sexy vixen."

"You're full of it. You know that, Mr. Bond?"

Eyes twinkling, James pulled her close, whispering in her ear, "You'll be full of it, much, much later."