Author's Note: I don't own James Bond or either of the characters or even the novels. Ian Fleming own it. The only thing I own is Angelle. Now, enjoy the chapter, please?

CHAPTER 2

They were finally here. Portugal. The country James now loved more than anything and if it wasn't for this country to existing, he would never met Tracy, his love in his life. They had taken a boat from Germany to Portugal, a very delightful trip.

James and Tracy Bond was very happy with each others, they had fun, talked about almost everything. No subject was boring or uninteresting, they always managed to surprise each others.

The trip was calm and peaceful, but yet uneventful. Still, James preferred now when things wasn't coming by a sudden surprise, those of that kind which happened in less than a second and already being perilous and life threatening. Really, sometimes he missed the excitements and suspense, since he wasn't the reclusive person.

But now, it was simply perfectly calm and he wanted to stay like it through the honeymoon. He knew Tracy also missed some suspense, but like she said during their first talk.

"If you want to stay alive play it safe." It was quite tedious, stodgy and extremely too leisurely, but it was the truth, indeed.

James let himself being satisfied with the uneventness and leaned back in his chair on the deck, where they sat by a table in the sun and had a small chat. During the long time he's been active in the Secret Service, he never really had the opportunity to clearly enjoy First Class. But with Tracy, everything was possible.

When he took a sip from his Vodka Martini, something on the lower deck caught his sight. It was very unusual and remarkably noticeably, that everyone most certainly would lay the eyes on his sight.

A girl with curly brown hair, dressed in a plaid dress, which skirt edges was shredded. James would surely guess the girl must be around 11 or 12 years old, no older than 13 at least! If someone studied the body structure of hers and her youthful face which wore an expression of frown and melancholy, they would be able to tell that the girl was on her own and was troubled.

A small ribbon in her hair, in a colour of black, he caught a glance of. She's holding a heavy grief and showing that she lost someone close to her. It would be most likely the lost of a family member.

His apparently deep thoughts was interrupted by Tracy's voice, it stroke through his own trace and he returned to his quite divine reality. "Dear, you seems to catch some sight of an interesting action?" He turned his head, so he would see her smile smirking amused and the marvellous brown eyes with an intensely love.

"Darling, it seems so. If you don't mind, I have a feeling that we might experience something very remarkable and thrilling soon." he responded and leaned in for a soft kiss, which Tracy granted.

Angelle was slight startled and turned up her head quickly, a reflex she had when she had this feeling of insecurity and suspiciousness. She thought, no. She knew that someone was watching her closely.

She shook her head, trying to calm herself down. The mysterious men that had 'stalked' her when she was in Germany, on her way to the boat. She thought they must lost sight and track of her. But how does it then explain why she feels like a hunted rabbit?

For her, there were an anonymous hunter who was watch each of her interactions and steps and she was the living target, completely innocent and unaware of the true danger.

Angelle left the lower deck and chose to turn to her cabin, since she could do something productive during the time that was left until dinner. She had opinions like reading a novel, continue her half-done drawing of the model she had randomly chosen on the deck. A wonderous beautiful woman, who was unaware that she was a model to a sketch of a twelve year old girl.

To be honest, she actually had the continuation of the drawing in her head. But once she sat by the desk and was about to get started, she couldn't bear herself to continue. Her mind went blank and she knew at once that it wasn't in her mood of drawing.

Instead she sat down and began to read a novel she apparently loved, Pride and Prejudice, until she lost track of time. After a time that felt like an eternity, Angelle finally caught a glance at the clock with Romanian digits.

It showed half past seven. She had a half an hour to dress to dinner. She put away the book and pulled out her suitcase. Her blue eyes stopped on a dress she doubted to wear.

It was a light blue dress. The fabric was soft against her palms and felt the crisp material the glittery pattern that shaped tiny delicate and magnificent flowers. It was a very wonderful sight, but maybe too outstanding? She doubted even more and her frown grew terribly.

Her eyes wandered to the desk, where there were a photo. It was taken during on of her earlier birthdays, when her deceased parents was still alive. Seeing them beam of love and pride, made her have second thoughts. They would want her to be happy, so why not wear this dress then?

The father always used to say that she looked more like an angel of the heaven than a princess that was born on Earth. That was her nickname before. Angel. They always used to call her "sweet little angel" when she was bringed to this world as a tiny infant, which gave her the name she have. Angelle.

At last, she made her choice and decided to wear the dress. She left her cabin, wearing the medallion she never left. How did it mattered if she wear blue, green or even grey? Nothing was going to happen anyways.

The salons were full by people, dressed in their finest and most glory clothes. Small chats. Music that played by an orchestra. Elder men and women that played by the casino tables. Couples that either ate dinner or danced.

It was quite a sight. But also a very good beginning to a new meeting. The new-wedded Bond couple sat by their table and ate their dinner. People around them knew they were on a rather romantic trip, just to judge by their glances and expressions. They laughed, talked or simply gazed in each other eyes, forgetting the surroundings around them.

It felt almost like only them together existed and the pace of the time stood still. They really had all the time in the world, which ironically was played and sung by the orchestra.

Until they felt everyone's gazes on something and the Bond couple turned their attention to the target. They were met by a rather, most likely angelic sight.

A blue-eyed girl with brown curls and a youthful face with glowing beauty. Dressed in a light-blue dress, probably made of the finest silk and blonde lace. But her expression was showed with frown, uneasiness and, was it possibly...timorous?

James Bond knew that he had seen that face and those eyes somewhere. But where, when and most importantly, by who? It didn't even took him seconds to recognize her. It was the young, troubled girl from lower deck earlier.

James' eyes met Tracy's brown, she still wore a smile, but from the interested sort. She nodded and that settled his mind. Perhaps, it appeared it was time for a little quality time with the mysterious and troubled girl.

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