A/N: Hopefully this chapter should answer some questions. I'm currently about three chapters ahead of you readers, I really have no idea what is happening until I start writing.

And someone, mentioning no names of course, finally decides to make an appearance.

Thank you for all of your reviews ... they really make my day, and leave me grinning like a lunatic for hours. And no... you can never be too over enthusiastic in your reviews (winks at Adri).

Married life means either not writing or one neglected husband.

Oh well, he's getting used to it. (grin)


The photo sat on the table, covered in smudged fingerprints. Three people all stared at it, but only Ashleigh could truly see it. Her fingers would reach out, and touch it, then jerk back as if burned. She would look away, and then moments later, the action would be repeated.

Bond and M watched her, concerned. She had said barely anything since they had arrived, only sitting quietly as if waiting for something, or someone, and in a way, Bond rather supposed she was. Every noise she heard, she looked up as if she expected her daughter to walk in at any moment.

Bond could bear it no longer. Reaching over he snatched the picture up, ignoring the small cry of protest from his goddaughter. She slumped back into her chair as M held up a warning hand.

'Let him see, Ashleigh. He needs to be able to recognise her after all.'

How could he not recognise her? Bond thought with a shiver as he stared down at the photograph. The picture was presumably recent, and showed a little girl with her mother's dark hair and round face. It could have been Ashleigh at that age, he realised, thinking back to when he had known her as a child. The same mischievous smile, and unruly hair but, to his surprise, the girl didn't have her mother's eyes.

Ashleigh's eyes were brown, a dark, rich colour, that could flash amber when she was angry, but were usually warm and smiling.

Ashleigh's daughter's eyes were a cold grey green.

The air was forced from his lungs with shock.

He had seen those eyes before, too many times.

In the child's face they were softened by the thick lashes, and the halo of dark hair, brightened by the pretty smile and the soft, rosy cheeks. But...

His suspicions were growing again. He knew those eyes. M turned away, refusing to answer the question that she knew had formed in Bond's mind, as he pieced together the events of the last few years. He was coming to a conclusion he didn't particularly want to consider.

'Why would anyone want to kidnap your daughter?' he snarled, his tone demanding Ashleigh answer.

She flinched away, trying to escape the venom in her godfather's voice, knowing that the inevitable had come at last.

'Answer me!'

'They took her because... because...' she stuttered, trying to form the words, but Bond had already grabbed her left hand, yanking it viciously across the table so he could see it.

The white metal band glinted harshly in the dying light, fitting perfectly on the third finger of her left hand.

It was all coming crashing into place. He stared at her, accusing her with hardened blue eyes. He didn't want to make the connection, but it was there, forming in his mind, he had a sudden image of sleek blond hair on a head that was bent to meet Ashleigh's willing lips.

'Bond...' M warned, leaning over to intervene, but she was too late.

The smell hit him again, filling Bond's nostrils, threatening to choke him once more, and suddenly, painfully he was dragged back to a day years ago in Cuba when that same smell had surrounded him, that scent combined with the smell of blood, sweat, and mechanical oil, thickened by the heat and tinged with death.

One man had died, but he had lived, and lived only to mock James.

The cut glass accent sliced through the evening like a knife, and just as damaging.

'Because she's my daughter too, or hadn't you realised that yet, James?'

For several seconds there was nothing but silence, and the women held their breath.

Bond leapt to his feet, black rage clear on his face for all to see. His fists were already clenched, reaching out for the throat of the newcomer, and all he could think about was death, this man was supposed to be dead, and by god, he'd finish the job now.

Alec Trevelyan stood calmly, a sneer on his face. He saw Bond move towards him and with lightning speed reached out and grabbed the lapels of Bond's suit jacket. With almost lazy contempt he threw the other man to one side, and Bond staggered, his reactions dulled by anger. Fury was overcoming him, disgust churned in his stomach, and deep within him, hidden in the very depths of his soul he recognised an emotion that he had always associated with Alec.

Envy.

Alec had taken Ashleigh, had coerced her into a relationship, had taken one of the few people that Bond had ever truly cared for, and he had kept her, married her, fathered her child, and now he stood with arrogance on his face, and deceit surrounded him.

'Sit down!' M thundered, and Ashleigh visibly recoiled at the anger in the woman's voice. Alec paused, torn between amusement at Bond's reaction, and the hatred that had grown between the two former friends. James froze, the agent reacting immediately to a command, and he turned, stiffly, slowly, and with the greatest dignity he could muster sat back into his seat.

'Alec, sit,' M ordered, and without protest he did, one hand reaching out for Ashleigh's shaking hand. He stared at James as he did so, as if willing the other man to protest at the gesture.

The four of them sat in stony silence, broken only by the occasional hitched breath from Ashleigh as she struggled to remain in control of her emotions, and fought to stay calm. Bond glowered, Alec came close to smirking, and M remained as still as a statue. The tablature was filled with tension.

The last time Bond had seen Alec Trevelyan had been on a frozen Russian morning. He had listened as Alec had growled at Ashleigh, seen the anger grow within the young woman, and watched with some degree of satisfaction as Ashleigh had turned and with a vicious right hook hit the scarred face as hard as she could. It had been the end of a painful episode for Bond, or so he had thought.

James Bond and Alec Trevelyan had been the best. The best agents within the 00 sector, the most charming pair of bachelors the female population of London had ever had the pleasure of meeting, and above all else, the best of friends. Fiercely loyal to each other and aware that their friendship was held together by the most tenuous of threads they had become closer than had perhaps had been good for them. Agents weren't supposed to become close; agents weren't expected to cultivate friendships, for agents had short lives, and even shorter careers. Too much could happen, too much could be betrayed.

There had been betrayal in their friendship.

The assignment had been difficult, but manageable. Invade a suspected weapons compound, remove as much threat as possible, confirm MI6's suspicions about what exactly the Russians were holding there, blow it up and then get the hell out again.

Almost routine to Bond.

Yet something had gone wrong, and Bond had called to Alec and heard nothing but silence. His instincts on alert, he had crept back to find him, and been faced with every agent's worse nightmare.

Alec, kneeling on the floor, stonily staring at nothing, acutely aware of the pistol jabbing into his head. Ourumov, triumphant, mocking, telling Bond to give it up.

Do it, Alec had howled, finish the job. He had had Alec's permission. He couldn't save his friend, he knew he couldn't, Alec knew he couldn't and so Alec had set him free, absolved him of responsibility. Alec knew the risks and now his luck had run out, death was waiting for him. Bond could only finish the job, and hoped that Alec saw the apology in his eyes. There would be no chance for goodbye, and so, Bond had taken the only opportunity he had had.

They had agreed six minutes for the timers. 'Six minutes for 006,' Alec had joked, six minutes to escape before the place was blown to kingdom come.

Alec had been counting on the six minutes. For his own plan.

It had required only a simple push of a button to half the time, cutting the timers down to three minutes.

In this action, Alec believed Bond had betrayed him.

The gunshot had rang out, painfully loud after the cruel monotony of Ourumov's countdown, Alec's final cry; 'For England!' still echoing in Bond's ears and Alec had fallen in battle. At last those green eyes had been extinguished.

Bond hadn't been able to look. He couldn't bear to see his friend's lifeless body. He needed to escape alive. Yet at the same time, a part of him died with Alec, he had lost his closest friend, and Bond began to believe that all he loved, all he let close to him died. Tracey, his wife, had died, Felix, his American contact had been left for dead and Felix's beautiful wife Della killed on the night of their wedding, the wedding that Bond had been best man at. Now Alec was dead, and grief hardened him once more.

He had escaped alive as the facility burned beneath him.

Six months later had brought another death and more grief to Bond's life. 009 had been executed in Siberia during a raid. Bond, still grieving for Alec, had been stunned by the news, and by the similarities of his friends' deaths. David Kain had been his friend, had been Alec's friend too, together the three of them had formed an unholy trinity of comradeship. Now Bond was the only one left. David had been the calming influence on his playboy friends, a widower with a teenaged daughter. David had been a ruthless agent, but a family man at heart, and when his daughter had been born shortly after James had lost his wife, he had asked his friend to be godfather, hoping to distract him from his grief. Bond had finally agreed, and Ashleigh Kain had had a godfather who while frequently away had always lavished attention on her when he had returned.

Nine years later, and Bond had been back in Russia searching for a prototype helicopter, and a mysterious device codenamed 'Golden Eye'. One man had been behind it all, a secretive underworld figure nicknamed 'Janus'. In a fog filled graveyard of communist statues he had come face to face with the notorious man himself.

Alec Trevelyan had survived. Having learnt of his heritage, he had been driven to avenge his parents' deaths. His family had been Lienz Cossacks, those that had sort sanctuary from the British, but Britain had betrayed them, and they had no choice but to return to Stalin's punishment. Alec's father and mother had been too proud to face such defeat, and had agreed on a pact. Alec's father had taken his wife's life, and then a moment later; his own. In an ironic twist, the orphaned Alec had been taken in by England, remembering little of his former life. Eventually he had joined the British Secret Service, and suddenly he had discovered his past. Now Alec was driven to revenge against England, and using the Goldeneye device, he would wreck havoc on London. And become at the same time, in his own words, richer than God. There was more to his revenge though, a personal revenge against the man who had betrayed him. Expecting the six minutes at Arkangel, they had timed their escape perfectly. But Bond had tricked them, and as the flames roared towards him, Alec had known his former friend had betrayed him. He would have his revenge for those lost three minutes.

Bond saw only his friend, whom he thought dead, one side of his face scarred from the fire. Janus personified, two faces upon one, one side smooth, and still Alec, the other this new, hate fuelled Alec, the Alec who had betrayed James.

He had betrayed James, and all James believed in. Betrayed England, Queen and Country.

In a vicious fight high above a giant satellite dish, Alec and James had fought. Fought not only for control, but for supremacy. Once friends, now bitter enemies, they had used all they had been taught, all they knew against each other, almost perfectly matched. Alec had lost, falling to his death.

No one could have survived that fall. No one could have survived the flaming, twisted hulking mass that was the remains of the transmitter falling upon them.

Yet Alec did. His body had been broken, his spirit humbled, and his recovery had been long and painful. Finally though, he had escaped back to Russia, once more a powerful man, but for more legitimate reasons. Few knew his identity and he had been content to hide in the shadows until he had been forced out.

A stolen super-virus, a new threat rising, and MI6 had been worried. They had sent for Bond, and Bond had gone, but Bond had not been alone.

Ashleigh Kain had grown up in the time that Alec Trevelyan had been hiding and during his attempt for world domination. Intelligent, physically fit, and as stubborn as her godfather she had joined MI6 in her early twenties after learning who exactly her father had been. Discovering her godfather was a secret agent, and the top spy in the country had been a shock to her, but she had known that she had wanted the same career, and had been determined to follow in her father's and her godfather's footsteps.

She might have, had she not met Alec Trevelyan. They had been played for fools against each other, Alec reluctantly being drawn into the search for the Hermes virus. He had been close to her father, and had known her as a child, but now, the young woman who could one minute be pleading for his help, the next stubbornly defiant, held a new interest. She had grown into an attractive woman, fiercely proud, and had been so like David it had been frightening. Neither of them had been able to deny the attraction that had existed between them.

Their relationship had been fiery, unorthodox, and yet, Alec had been powerless to help himself. M, sensing his weakness for her agent, had slowly dragged him back to MI6, offering immunity in return for assistance.

Bond had been furious. Alec was merely using Ashleigh as a form of revenge, using Bond's goddaughter to attack Bond. M had been adamant in her decision, and she had allowed Alec to assist in the mission, it was through Alec they had gained access to the virus.

On that cold morning as Ashleigh and Bond had faced death, Ashleigh and Alec had quarrelled. Her father had died because of his weakness, Alec had taunted the girl, as would she.

She had hit him, cursed him, and been dragged away by Bond. It was the last time that he had seen the scarred bastard.

Good riddance, he had thought. In England it was easier to pretend that Alec had indeed died, and that he remained dead. Bond had fallen easily back into his career, but Ashleigh had struggled to maintain her focus. Things had changed for her in the time that she had spent with Alec, and somehow, her goals hadn't been the same as before Russia.

And then she had vanished.

She had been here. In Sicily. With Alec. She had married him, and borne him a child, and now that child was missing, and Bond had been called in to find her.

What the hell had M been thinking?

Bond fumed, his fists still clenched. Glancing up he caught the eye of the older woman who coloured slightly and looked away, guilt all too apparent in her eyes.

She had known. She had known that Alec and Ashleigh had been together, had known that they had a child. No wonder she had been reluctant to come out with the information.

He would never have come if he had known. Now he was here in the bastard's house, and expected to make the most it.

Like hell he would.

The wood screeched on the tiles as he pushed his chair back for a second time. He was walking out of here, back to the car, back to whatever dump of a hotel this area had to offer, and there he would order the strongest bottle of alcohol he could find and drink it steadily down to the dregs. And then with a raging hangover, he would get back on the plane and return to England where he would repeat the process in his own home.

Damn M and her meddling. Damn Alec to the hell he deserved. Alec's child could rot for all he cared. Find some other agent to stage a dramatic rescue.

'James?' Ashleigh's voice was quiet, but the question was clear in it.

He didn't reply, he didn't look up; he just turned his back and walked away. He was washing his hands of this entire thing.

'James? Where are you going?' and this time there was panic in his goddaughter's voice.

'Let him go,' he heard Alec snarl, and still he refused to turn.

'Alec...' he heard Ashleigh speak through gritted teeth. 'Just go inside, or anything. Just go away. Now!'

There was a long pause, and Bond couldn't help but hesitate. He had never heard any one but M order Alec to do something and he was curious to discover what his reaction was.

'Ashleigh is right. Go inside, Alec, and find your wife something to drink and me too for that matter. You're being a lousy host.'

He heard the door slam moments later.

'James, please?'

At last he turned, and he saw determination in Ashleigh's eyes.

'They took my daughter,' she whispered. 'They attacked me, and they took my little girl. Her name is Natasha, and she's only five years old. I don't know why they've taken her, or where they have, and M won't let me look for her myself. I need the best, James, and you've always been the best. I need your help, I won't trust anyone else. Please, just don't walk away now. Because if you do, I might never see her again, and that scares me so much. I just want her back, and I need you to find her.'

There was a quiet dignity to her explanation, there was no pleading, just quiet insistence, she calmly placed her cards on the table and let him see her hand.

Bond paused. Ashleigh dragged her eyes to his, and waited, without realising she was holding her breath. He saw the cut on her head, and her bruises, and knew that she would never have given up her child without a fight, no parent would, and how frightened she was.

M was waiting too. She was playing a dangerous game bringing Bond and Trevelyan's paths together once more, and she had seen the absolute hatred that had passed between them. Ashleigh was their only common link now, and M was clinging onto the hope that it might be enough to suspend hostilities for a while.

He couldn't breathe. Ashleigh had always been able to appeal to his inner conscience, a skill she had learned as a child. He jerked his head in what might have been a nod, but the two women couldn't be sure. Before they had the opportunity to ask, he slid the door to the house open and disappeared inside.

Inside it was cool, and somehow calmer than it had been outside. Bond let the shadows soothe him, he could still feel the rage burning within him, settling under his lungs until he thought it would suffocate him.

'Drink?'

Bond turned quickly, and saw Alec holding out a glass to him.

'No.'

Alec raised an eyebrow. 'Don't be petulant, James. It won't kill you.'

'Debatable.'

Alec shrugged and placed the glass down on a low bookshelf. 'As you wish.'

James had a brief moment of wondering if he had fallen into a rabbit hole, or through a looking glass. The fact that he was standing in his arch rival's sitting room, being offered a drink as if he were an honoured guest seemed almost too mind-boggling to fathom. But his thirst was raging, and the drink too tempting, so with a reckless snatch he threw the icy liquid down his throat.

'Let me explain something, James,' Alec whispered in a low voice that left no room for argument. 'I can understand perfectly that you have absolutely no desire to be involved in this mission, and in all truth, I don't want you involved either. But there is more than our personal vendetta at stake here. Take a look around. This is my home now. No, not just my home. My family's home.'

'My heart bleeds for you.'

'Of course it does. But this is something you can't understand. Look at me. I have everything to lose, and whoever has done this knows it. If I had remained at MI6 I would have never had had this. I would have been just like you, a star agent, but ultimately married to my work. I would have enjoyed short, hurried affairs, before heading out into the night to save the world. You're alone, James, but I'm not. I have Ashleigh, and I have...' His voice trailed off, and for the first time Bond heard genuine pain as the agony of the situation hit him once more. 'I had Natasha. My daughter, my child. Someone out there has her, and if I could, I would kill every single one of them to get her back. Believe me,' he gave a hollow, bitter laugh, 'I'm aware of the irony that it is you that will be searching for my child.'

He looked past Bond, to the window that looked out over the terrace. He could see Ashleigh there, staring blankly at nothing. At some point she had plucked a flower from a nearby plant and was now unknowingly shredding it between her fingers.

'Just remember this, James,' Alec spoke again, and the coldness in his voice cut through the tension in the room. 'Natasha may be my daughter, but she's also Ashleigh's. I don't expect you to do anything for me, but just remember Ash.'

For a moment James weighed up the satisfaction of smashing his fist into his old friend's face against M's wrath if he did so, but reluctantly, he let his hands uncurl. Alec did have a point. He would never be able to refuse this for Ashleigh. And it was true. The child may be half Alec's but she had Kain blood in her too. Ashleigh's daughter and David's grandchild.

'For her, Alec,' he snarled, 'Only for her.'

She couldn't stop shivering, she was cold, so cold, despite the warmth of the night. In fascination she pressed her hand against her arm, and felt the heat there, but still she shivered, still she couldn't get warm.

She felt empty, a strange hollowness inside her, and an empty space that was filling rapidly with fear. Subconsciously she trailed her hand over her abdomen, remembering the months she had carried her daughter in there, the heavy, comforting weight that had been her little girl, the place where no one could take her from.

She had thought that about this place. This place, the home that despite its luxury, despite their freedom, had been a safe house. She glanced around, seeing everything and seeing nothing all at once.

'Ashleigh?' A slim, ageing hand slid cross the table to touch hers. 'Ashleigh, you must listen to me.'

She nodded numbly. 'I am.'

'Good girl,' M grasped the hand. 'I know you want Natasha back, we all do. We are going to do everything that we can. Even James is here, and you know how good James is. We're going to get her back, and she's is going to be fine, and you have to be strong for her when she gets back, you have to be strong for her.'

'I know,' the comment about James had raised a ghost of a smile. James would do everything he could to get her child back, she knew it.

'Now when did you last sleep?'

'I – I don't know...' She had to pull herself together, she would be no good to anyone if she couldn't get a grip on reality and on herself.

Did the brief period of unconsciousness count? Did lying on the floor while strangers took her child count as sleep? She struggled to hold back the tears, feeling control slipping through her fingers.

'Yesterday.' Alec stepped outside, carrying a soft grey blanket. Bond followed, stony faced, and watched as the man he despised more than anyone else in the world wrapped the blanket round his goddaughter's shoulders with a tenderness he had never seen in Alec before.

Crouching behind Ashleigh, Alec wrapped his arms round her, holding the blanket close to her, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Bond's scowl deepened. He wondered if this was all a show for him, but there was something in the way that Ashleigh immediately relaxed into his embrace that spoke of familiarity and he realised with a jolt that they were indeed a couple. A married couple. Ashleigh Kain was now Ashleigh Trevelyan.

He looked away as quickly as he could, staring out to sea.

'I think you should go to bed, Ashleigh, and try and sleep. There's not really anything you can do right now, and you need to keep your strength up. There's a doctor here, would you like me to ask him to give you something to help you sleep?'

Ashleigh's head snapped up. Was M suggesting she resort to sleeping pills? The fire blazed in her eyes as she prepared herself to protest.

Then as suddenly as it had came, the anger went, the fire died, and she nodded dully. 'Alright.'

She wanted to sleep. She wanted to forget.

M nodded, and gestured to an agent that had been hovering nearby. The doctor would be fetched.

Bond watched, concerned. Ashleigh had always hated sleeping tablets, refusing them after her father's death, and continuing to do so throughout her adulthood. He glanced at Alec, and saw the same concern echoed on the other man's face. He snorted, realising that the bastard had been right. He'd do it, but only for Ashleigh and for Ashleigh's daughter.

It was time for him to leave, and M knew it too. She stood, one hand gripping Ashleigh's in goodbye, a nod to Alec and then she joined Bond. She didn't speak until they were in the car.

She lifted her regal hand in a wave of defeat. 'Just don't say a word, 007, don't say a word.'