Eve tried not to swallow air in gulps as Villanelle's gaze bored into her. It was unclear whether Villanelle's concern was legitimate, as she widened her eyes in sympathy, and with a tilt of her pretty head, she spoke again.

"Are you scared?" Eve straightened herself resignedly. She found herself growing irritated, never quite used to the illustrious charm of her counterpart. With squared shoulders and a straight back, she snatched another mug from the shelf and was quick to return to face a poised Villanelle. With a mask that seemed ever-failing, she tried again to be stony. "You know, I should be more afraid of you after what you did to me last time." Pride rose in Eve's throat, followed by an erroneous burst of confidence. Cockily, she retorted,

"Are you afraid?" That was a silly question, and they both knew it. With a slight shake of her head, Villanelle easily replied.

"No." And without a pause, "You could have killed me." Eve's facade broke with these words, and the deepness of her eyes seemed to engulf her face.

"I know...I think about that all the time." She took a shaky breath, and fire flashed behind Villanelle's violent eyes. For a second, her face was anguished, and "really" slipped from her gritted teeth, with the pain and the look on Villanelle's face flashing before both of their eyes. Villanelle's stomach twinged with recognition, and she relished its sharpness as Eve's gentle hand cupped her cheek. She was touched, and every muscle in her body tensed. Another throb from her wound, and Eve was closer. "Do you think about it?"

"All the time." Eve stared imploringly into her eyes, thoughts racing, and Villanelle cast her hand away.

"Are you going to apologize?" And Eve, confidence rekindled, knew that cruelty was her companion once more.

"No, are you?"

Villanelle seemed to find this display endearing, and with a hint of a smirk, released a "no."

"Okay, good, there we are then." Emboldened by her own sharpness, Eve was forcefully casual as she strode past Villanelle. "I need your help with something important." Whenever Eve talked about work, she used her work voice, which Villanelle found adorable. Working for a big important government, with big important work. The way that work inflamed her always gave her the appearance of a lioness, the way she rose to her duties and became the embodiment of bravery. But was it bravery, or bravado?

"Oh yeah? Why don't you drink your champagne?" Villanelle asked, patronizingly.

"Nice outfit."

"I thought I would dress for the occasion."

"And what's the occasion?"

Mockingly, Villanelle quipped, "I'm about to be in mourning."

"I'm sorry to hear that,"

"You know I'm here to kill you."

"Yes, it was my idea." Villanelle snorted at this. For someone who apparently worked for MI5, Eve could be incredibly dense. She seemed quite proud of her little idea.

"No,"

"I told you I need your help, I...I needed to see you."

"So you hired me to kill you? That is so stupid!" Villanelle bit back a laugh, still smiling endearingly at Eve. "What if I hit you with a car, what if I shot you?"

"You wouldn't." These words echoed, and Villanelle pondered. Yes, if she was going to kill Eve, she would fuck her for hours, and then stab her once in the same place Eve had stabbed her, then lick her wound and kiss the blood back into her mouth. And then she would cut out her heart and hold it close, close enough to feel its warmth. Villanelle returned to her Eve, still reeling from the innocence of her assumption. "I wouldn't?" Eve swallowed and barely managed to shake her head in response.

"No." She was trembling, so sweet.

"Eve." The name in her mouth tasted sweet too, and both of them silently relished its domesticity. Villanelle's tone was maternal, like that of a parent scolding a child fondly. She then exposed the small vial, setting it down purposefully on the counter.

"What is that?" Villanelle brandished the bottle of champagne, somehow still friendly in her air of mourning.

"To get rid of the taste." Expectantly, she sat, relishing the fear in Eve's dark eyes. Eve's fear was always the catalyst to her desire, and she felt a hunger rise into her chest with the excitement of the moment. Eve swiftly sat, looking at Villanelle for approval, and the hunger in her grew into dominance as she commanded Eve's actions with only a look.

Almost defiantly, Eve placed the pill in her mouth and swigged the bottle, locked in the deadly exchange but for the thrill of mortality which dangerously fueled both women. Another pill, another swig. And a pill, and a swig. Tears rose in Villanelle's eyes, and panic in her voice.

"What did you do," she wavered. "What did you do, why did you do that Eve.?" Hyperventilation began, and the panic spread as Eve realized what she had done. "I didn't think you would actually do it, that was Arsenic." Her voice, and the tension in the room, rose as she screamed, "Don't just stand there, do something! Get it out! Go, hurry, get it out! Eve, get it out, quickly Eve, hurry!" Her screams died into laughter while Eve attempted desperately to expel the pills from her stomach.

"Of course it isn't poison, do you think I'm insane? You are so easy." Villanelle cackled, Konstantin would call her a child for pulling such an evil prank. But Eve deserved it. It was worth it, anyway, to see the terror on her face. Villanelle swiftly arrived behind Eve, retching over the sink, and put both of her hands commandingly on Eve's hips.

Eve spun around, eyes as wide as hunted prey once the blade was at her neck. Swept up in the arms of a psychopath, a blade to her throat, she was instantly engulfed in arousal, incapable of moving her eyes from the face of her captor.

"I'm expensive."

"I know." The curved blade tantalized her as it lightly traced a path down her shirt, between her breasts, right to the place where she had stabbed Villanelle.

"You'll give me everything I want." It wasn't a question, yet still warranted an answer. Overwhelmed with a need to be kissed, Eve rose slightly as Villanelle's lips approached.

"Yes," she breathed. And Villanelle grinned. Gotcha.

It was the scattered drip of leaky plumbing which pulled Villanelle from a dazed slumber. Her eyes remained closed, and she immediately grew conscious of several additional noises, albeit more routine ones. She observed the breath of two men, one in opposite corners of what she assumed to be a small room, one with cold concrete against an intensely sore body. Stale cigarette smoke and mildew, and the faintest taste of copper in her mouth. But before she could gather much else, footsteps approached, too clean to match the ambience, and she continued to feign sleep.

"She is awake, boys," announced a crisp voice from the door. "Please, my dear, let us be civilized in our discussion." Villanelle cracked a smile at this, prepared to put on her usual show of charm and wit.

"Of course I can be civilized, I am a lady." Her eyes rose to meet the crisp voice. With a face parallel to Carolyn's in age and stature, this woman wore an indeterminate expression, and an elegant long coat. Her hair was blonde and streaked with grey, arranged neatly under a stylish coif.

"Oh, but I have heard too many tales of how your allure has...disrupted...your ladylike exterior. There is nothing you have done which can be hidden from me, and nothing that you can do that I won't expect." Villanelle smiled tediously, feeling herself grow enraged as she often did when condescended to.

"What is with this...fancy character? Are we in a Nancy Drew mystery?"

"I do not have time to match wits with you, Villanelle. We must cut right to the chase." She exhaled sharply, steely eyes boring into Villanelle with alarming intensity. "There are many people in the world right now who would have me kill you now. There are others who would pay handsomely to acquire you from me, and others still who eagerly await your incarceration. But you and I both know that your talents are far too useful to waste on meaningless quarrels between nations and companies. I am part of an...organization...which is prepared to offer you a very large sum of money as part of a lucrative deal." Villanelle cringed and prepared to complain.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot accept. I am newly retired! I suppose I was so successful at a young age, that I can finally settle down with my girlfriend and-"

"But I seem to understand that you just shot this "girlfriend.' Eve Polastri, was it? Anyway, I don't suppose she would care much to settle down with someone who tried to kill her, would she? In fact, I'm not even sure that she's going to be alive long enough to decide." Seething, Villanelle couldn't prevent her eyes from stinging with tears.

"You don't know her like I know her."

"I'm afraid that doesn't matter. You have now ostracized every agency that employed you, and you are running out of options. You don't have much of a choice. They will kill you if you do not accept our offer, and we will protect you."

"I don't need protection. And I don't even know who you are, or what deal you are offering me. Are you with the Twelve?"

"You know very well I wouldn't tell you if I was. The deal is this: You become an agent of our organization. You will work to hunt and eliminate an enemy of our organization, one responsible for a series of hits. In return, upon completing this contract, you will be paid for your work and released back into the world, until the time comes when we need your services again. You will understand that we will be watching you very closely, and we will expect regular reports on your investigation. If you are contacted by anyone with ties to your previous work, you will relay that information to us immediately and will be punished. No one is to find out where you are, and under no circumstances are they to find out what you are doing or who you are working for. Here is your file, your documents, and whatever else you may need." The woman rose and handed Villanelle the file.

"And who am I working for?"

"You may call me Madame." And with that, the woman was gone.