Author's note: This is a Killing Eve fan-based fictional story. It borrows characters that belong to the show and its team of writers. The timeline of this story begins in the last moments of the series finale. The story from there is my own creation and should not be borrowed or reproduced without my permission.
This is my attempt to right the wrongs of the series ending, and to imagine an alternative path for Villaneve. I am an American writer, so please forgive any odd phrasing, spelling, or references. I hope you enjoy this fic. Tell me your thoughts please.
Between Shadow and Soul
By Mamatots
Chapter 1
LONDON
Present Day
EVE
Eve Polastri was still processing the sudden movements on the boat's deck when her body hit the water. One moment she was in a warm embrace with Villanelle then everything was chaos. It wasn't until Villanelle literally threw her into the darkness of the Thames that Eve comprehended they were in danger, bullets piercing the water around her.
She tried to swim upward toward the surface, but she was weighed down by an oversized jacket. Instinctively, she worked to pull her arms out of the bulky material which wrapped around her like fishing net. Eve kicked to keep herself from sinking as she pulled free of the fabric.
Instantly, Eve buoyed up a meter, giving her hope that she was moving toward much needed air. Lights from the surrounding vessels and buildings penetrated the surface of the river. There, just beyond her reach, was Villanelle.
Eve's adrenaline soared as she thrust her body forward with added momentum, arms and legs moving quickly in tandem. Bullets were still breaking the top of the river, whizzing past Eve's head, barely missing her. She knew she and Villanelle were still in danger. They needed to get to the surface before their lungs gave out, but further up was a minefield of stray bullets.
Villanelle swam deeper for refuge, her long legs and arms gave her a speed advantage in the water just as they always had on land. Eve continued upward and now over toward the younger woman. Eve had nearly closed the gap when a billow of blood enveloped Villanelle, and she began to sink.
Eve panicked, her lungs were burning, imploring her toward the surface. She knew, though, she had one chance to help Villanelle. With all the strength left in her limbs, she dove down after her.
Villanelle's arms were extended, and she appeared to not be moving. She was certainly not attempting to stop her descent to the Thames' bottom. Eve plunged harder toward her, stretching as far as she could, willing herself to be that lifeline Villanelle so desperately needed.
Eve was a determined woman in life, and she would be so in death if that was what this moment was for her. She was willing to follow Villanelle to the river's floor and die alongside her before she would give up on saving her.
With one last thrust, Eve made it, grabbing hold of Villanelle's wrist, tugging with all her resolve.
She wasn't prepared for the weightiness of pulling on an unconscious body. She tugged again and again. Eve kept pulling as her legs propelled them upward, but the added effort was draining her body of any oxygen remaining in her lungs.
Eve continued toward the light at the top, but her brain was shutting down. She weakened. She had failed them. She squeezed Villanelle's wrist tighter as blackness encircled her.
TOWER BRIDGE
Carolyn
"It's done," a deep voice confirmed.
Carolyn Martens adjusted the small device that was nestled inside her left ear. The vibration from the voiceover always bothered her, even after thirty years with MI6.
She returned the communication with a toneless, "Jolly good."
The older woman watched as the lights from The Dixie Queen river boat faded into the distance, peering down into the murky water of the Thames. She stared as the ripples diminished, almost willing for two bodies to pop up to the surface, gasping for air. That would be self-defeating nonsense though. Regardless of emotional attachment, an order was an order in MI6, and the order tonight was to "take out" the international assassin known as Villanelle.
Carolyn rather liked the young girl, even if Villanelle unnerved her in a way nobody else ever had, past or present. She was "predictably unpredictable" Carolyn thought, and that was a trait Carolyn admired. Most other humans were conventional bores, too keen on themselves and their self-generated predicaments. From an early age, Villanelle had been groomed into a literal killing machine, yet she clung to an internal moral compass and a childlike enthusiasm that Carolyn respected.
Once the undertaking inside The Dixie Queen launched tonight, there was no turning back for MI6 or for Carolyn. The anticipated result was the elimination of "The Twelve," an underground criminal network of powerful, but secretive, players whose main existence was to determine when those with less power were nugatory. Unnamed, unrecognizable, and nearly impossible to find grouped together in one room, tonight's mission had one goal. Take them out – all twelve.
Carolyn had confidence in the abilities of only one assassin, Villanelle, which were being spurred by the relentless doggedness of former MI6 Agent, Eve Polastri.
The outcome tonight was as personal for Eve as it was transactional for Carolyn which worked to Carolyn's benefit. It made this final part of their three-year mission child's play. With Carolyn's intel and MI6's green light, once Villanelle took out The Twelve, MI6 snipers were waiting on the Tower Bridge for cleanup as soon as The Dixie Queen passed beneath. There would be no witnesses left to the bloodletting on the boat's lower deck.
"Neat and tidy," Carolyn thought as she turned to walk away.
THAMES RIVER
Villanelle
The moment she stepped foot on The Dixie Queen, something felt off to Villanelle. She typically trusted her instinct, like a hypersensitive sixth sense, to guide her when she was in perilous situations. This time, she was guided by loyalty. Loyalty to Eve.
They made it aboard the boat before it pulled away from where it was docked. She followed Eve inside, looking around for signs of danger. It was unclear what function was scheduled, but it appeared to be a wedding.
The two women moved with the smallish crowd as it shuffled down a narrow passageway inside the boat, heading up an ornate staircase, decorated with colorful flowers. Villanelle looked over at Eve. One word of uncertainty, one flinch of hesitation from the former MI6 Agent and Villanelle would have turned them around and abandoned the mission. Now that she and Eve found their way back to each other, her innate mission was to keep them both safe.
"Eve," Villanelle whispered, nearly inaudible.
The tall blonde's final plea was drowned out by a female voice.
"Are you Natsuko?"
Villanelle and Eve looked at each other. It was clear the woman was speaking to Eve.
Taking the offered ruse, Eve responded, "Yes."
"Wonderful," the woman exclaimed, pulling Eve up the stairs, "The service is about to begin. Come with us."
Villanelle felt her stomach twist. She knew how these games played, but she hated to let Eve out of her sight.
With duty calling her elsewhere, Villanelle pulled Eve toward her, kissing her deeply, savoring the feeling of her lips touching Eve's then told her, "Distract them."
As Eve went upstairs, Villanelle quickly followed a path toward the kitchen where she found ten or so workers who were busy cooking. Needing to clear the area and find the secretive meeting room where The Twelve were to gather, Villanelle opened up the valve on a tank in an electrical closet. This immediately emitted noxious fumes through the lower deck, dropping the entire crew.
The tall assassin made a quick visit to the upper deck to ensure Eve was safe from the fumes or any other danger. Upstairs, she found Eve officiating a wedding with two grooms. Villanelle smiled as Eve rambled about relationships. The moment seemed awkward but beautiful to Villanelle because everything about Eve was a beautiful mess. Villanelle turned back toward her mission, looking forward to a lifetime of awkward, impromptu moments with Eve.
Back downstairs, Villanelle found the meeting room and annihilated every member of The Twelve. She hoped, at best, it was all twelve; she lost count as she slashed and stabbed, leaving no living person in her wake.
After giving signal to Eve that it was done, she stepped out on the upper deck, followed quickly by the former agent.
"I did it, Eve," Villanelle proclaimed.
"Don't you mean 'we' did it?" Eve hugged her tightly, laughing when the assassin agreed but added that it was mostly her.
Out in the cold night air, Villanelle felt triumphant. She felt vindicated. She felt freed. Villanelle would never kill again she swore internally.
She soaked up Eve's powerful embrace, wanting to walk away from so much death which defined her past and begin fresh with this woman she loved.
Her metamorphosis imploded when she felt the heat of something sharp pierce her back. She knew instantly it was a snipper's bullet as she fell forward onto Eve. Escape was their only chance at survival, so Villanelle pulled the smaller woman under her and ran them toward the side of the boat.
"JUMP, EVE," were Villanelle's last words before they both hit the dark water.
She initially lost sight of Eve as they both sunk deeper. Bullets continued to cascade around them. She propelled her long body into darker depths, hoping the snipers would stop shooting.
Villanelle saw Eve a few meters away, and she swam toward her in the cold water. She was determined to close their gap, if for no other reason than to protected Eve from the bullets. Suddenly, she felt heat in her lower back and saw blood mix with the water surrounding her. At that point, there was no way to move, her legs were useless, and Villanelle began to sink into darkness.
Eve
Eve became slowly aware of muffled voices mixed with harbor sounds before she was aware she had access to oxygen again. She felt a massive puff of forced air fill her lungs, causing her to cough hard, puking up volumes of river water.
"She's breathing!" Eve heard a man's voice say. She tried to sit up, continuing to cough up water.
"Take it slow," she was told, "Slow, calm breaths."
Eve opened her eyes, but images were blurry. She felt movement around her. The ground was moving too. Nothing made sense then it all came rushing back to her. The boat, the bullets, the water…
"Villanelle!" she croaked out. In her head, it sounded like an explosion of sound. In reality, her call was hardly audible.
"What?" the young man asked.
"Villanelle," Eve said again, her voice raspy with strain.
"Hey, she's asking for you," he said to a woman near him.
Eve could feel the night air blowing against her wet skin and clothes. She was becoming more and more aware. She was cold, shivering, and she was on a fast-moving motorboat.
"Stay down, Eve," a woman instructed. This voice sounded faintly familiar. The woman positioned herself next to her, covering Eve with a heavy blanket and trying to keep her flat.
The woman said Eve, she thought. This person knew her name.
Images were coming into focus as she warmed. A knit cap was pulled over her wet hair.
"Here, this will help," the voice said.
Eve looked up into a familiar face. "Pam?"
"Let's take off your wet shoes and socks," Pam told Eve.
She put dry socks on Eve's feet, telling her, "That will have to do."
"5 minutes out," the driver told them.
"Okay," Pam acknowledged.
The last time Pam saw Eve and Villanelle was earlier in the day. She spent the day with Carolyn Martens of MI6, following her around on the hunt for accurate intelligence as to where The Twelve were to meet.
Pam was new to the world of The Twelve, recently immersed into the organization as one of its female assassins. She already knew she hated it. It was a struggle for her to separate the person from the assignment. She'd killed two truly kind people and felt the obligations were meaningless.
"Pam?" Eve said hoarsely.
"I'm here, Eve," she assured her, "We're getting help. Hang in there."
"Villanelle?" she asked again.
Pam pushed on the shoulder of the other man on the boat. As he shifted, Pam pointed toward another body and said, "We got her."