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sl-newsie · 2 months

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Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 20: Waiting

Instead of announcing our engagement we've decided it’s safer to keep it secret until this mess blows over. For now I’ll keep Q’s ring on a chain around my neck. It’s subtle enough to remain inconspicuous.

As Q and I make our way into the office I can’t help but shoot him a quick smile. He scrunches his face into a frown to remind me to behave and I almost burst out laughing. Unfortunately my happiness is short-ended because Nomi walks up with a concerned expression.

“What’s the trouble?” I ask.

“Bond’s been asking about a meeting with Blofeld.”

“And Mallory said no?” Q guesses.

“I’m afraid so.”

I shake my head. “That doesn’t mean we do. Is there a way to sneak him in? Or at least one of us?”

“No need,” Moneypenny says as she approaches from M’s office. “Good news. Bond talked with M and convinced him to let us in on Heracles.”

“Wait ‘til you see what it does up close,” Q mutters to Nomi.

“There’s more news. Bond’s in the office,” Moneypenny informs us.

“What?” We all gasp.

Alright. Remember, I’m not supposed to have spoken or been in contact with Bond in any way. As far as M knows he’s been off duty and away from us. We all take a deep breath and walk through the oak doors to see Bond standing in front of M’s desk with an amused smirk.

Q’s acting does little to convince. “Bond! God! I- I haven’t seen you in- in- Um, how’s retirement?”

“Shut up Q, I know he’s staying with you,” Mallory groans at Q’s pathetic acting. “And you’re not in the clear either.” He gives me a pointed look. “Bond’s been reinstated as a 00. Now that we’re all on the same page, what have you got?��

Q shuts his mouth and goes on to set up his computer.

“And that’s why you’re not fit to lie,” I say smugly and tap his shoulder.

Nomi looks troubled but goes on to explain our research. “Q has studied examples of the victims’ samples at the funeral.”

The big screen on the wall comes to life and news images of different funerals flash across it.

“These are the family members who made direct contact with the corpse. We found traces in all their blood samples.”

“Good work,” M comments.

Nomi ignores the subject. “00 what?”

Jesus, Nomi. It’s just a number.

“What are they?” Moneypenny asks.

“They’re nanobots,” Q explains. “Microscopic biorobots that can enter your system with the slightest contact with your skin.

“Programmed with DNA to target specific individuals,” Mallory says.

“But Blofeld modified them to infect anyone related to the target. It could target individuals to whole ethnicities. You infect enough people-”

“And the people become the weapon,” Bond finishes.

Dear God. Who could even think of carrying out this idea? Turning one’s own flesh against them simply by touching someone… It raises far too many ethical questions.

“It was never meant to be a weapon of mass destruction,” M says softly. “Only as a last result. Now I must call the Prime Minister. Q, hack into Blofeld’s eye. See what you can find.”

I stride forward to where Bond’s standing. “Can I go too?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to stay behind,” M informs me. “Bond can deal with Blofeld.”

Left behind again. Sure, Bond gets all the fun and gets to interrogate while I’m stuck doing paperwork.

“Good luck,” I mutter to my old colleague.

“Nice necklace,” 007 murmurs with amusement. Before I can flash him a warning look Bond gives my hand a shake. “I’ll crack Boefeld like an egg. See you in 10.”

He walks out and I’m left to wait. No surprise that Q’s already heading back to the lab. I know tech is not my strong suit but at this point I’ll do anything to help. I head downstairs and find the screens he’s sitting in front of flashing with multiple images of blueprints, maps, and other patterns too fast to make out.

“Stuck in the basement again, I see.”

“Quiet. Trying to focus.”

I walk over and plop down into a chair next to him. “Need help?”

Q lets out an annoyed grunt. “This eye is harder to crack than I’d hoped. Got anything in mind?”

“A sledge hammer might help.”

Q tilts his head, still looking at the eye. “How is the thought of you with a sledge hammer both arousing and terrifying? Ah! Got it!”

I hear something click and then a female’s voice says: ‘Blofeld’s eyeball unlocked.’

“You look like a child on Christmas morning,” I comment on Q’s overjoyed face. “It’s adorable.”

‘Accessing files: 477, 478, 479…’

Now I’m back to waiting. I suppose there are other things I can do to be useful. “Want any tea while you work?”

“You know me so well. Yes, please.”

In no time at all I brew some Earl Gray and my own mug of hot chocolate. When I return I see on one of Q’s smaller screens that Bond’s heading towards the detention level.

“Thank you, darling,” Q says as he takes a sip of tea. “Think Bond will keep his cool when he sees Swann again?”

I huff a stale laugh. “Who can say? I’m curious to how she’ll respond. What do you say to an ex you abruptly left 5 years ago?”

The geek rolls his eyes. “You know I can’t answer that. I’m hopeless when it comes to social interaction equations.”

“And that’s why I love you.” I give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

We wait a few minutes and the screen shows Bond and Dr. Swann stepping into Boefeld’s cell. At the last minute the blonde psychiatrist backs out and leaves Bond to make contact with the one-eyed criminal. It looks like it’s going to be his usual method. Strangle the bloke until Bond gets what information he wants. But wait- Something's wrong. Boefeld’s not moving…

“Q… What’s wrong with him?” I point to the screen.

The geek looks over from where he’s still working on the eye and freezes. He abruptly gets up and sprints out of the room. Should I follow? M said to stay here. But I can’t just- no. Someone needs to guard the eye. I must be patient. On the monitor I watch Bond exit the cell while medical staff examine Boefeld’s body. No doubt everyone will rendezvous back here since it appears to be a contamination issue. Maybe the smart blood isn’t working properly?

In a few minutes Bond and Q walk in, followed by M and Nomi.

“What happened?” I ask anxiously.

“Um… Bond was infected with the nanobots back in Cuba,” Q explains. “When he touched Boefeld they killed him.” He gestures for Bond to place his hands on a nearby machine. “I need your fingerprint. You’re lucky you aren’t related or you’d be dead too.”

“So how do I get this off?” Bond asks.

“Um, you don’t. You can’t. Nanobots aren’t just for Christmas. Once Hercules is in your system it’s in there forever.”

Jesus. This is why I keep a close eye on MI6’s medical requirements. How could M think that something so deadly and permanent could be a good thing?

“I’m so sorry, Bond-”

“No time for that, 0011,” Bond grunts and looks over at M. “Did they find her car?”

He must mean Dr. Swann.

“They traced it but she abandoned it,” Nomi says. “Hasn’t been to her flat. Is she one of them? Do you have any idea where she might have gone?

“No. I wouldn’t know.”

Bond’s clearly lying. He knows exactly where she is, I’m sure of it. But if he wants to keep things from M I don’t blame him. Without a word he gets up and strides out of the room before M can argue. We all look at each other thinking the same thing. What now? Boefeld was one of our only leads and we have no inkling of where Dr. Swann is.

“Our best bet is to wait for the field agents to report back,” M decides and walks out.

Is he serious? There’s a biological warfare crisis going on and he wants to wait it out?

“This is ridiculous!” I throw my arms up. “I should be out there trying to help investigate!”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Levie,” Moneypenny says. “M’s been especially protective of your assignments these past few weeks because he doesn't want you getting infected too. You’re one of our youngest 00s and he wants to keep you safe for liabilities”

“So that’s it? I’m forced to sit back and watch the world erupt into chaos because I’m a child? So that if Bond ends up dead I’ll step in?” I argue. “That’s not fair! I’m a 00 same as him or Nomi. I should be helping!”

Both her and Q exchange looks. What? What else do people say behind my back?

“You’re a brilliant agent, 0011,” Moneypenny replies softly, as though talking to a wild animal. “But Bond is right. You do have a big heart, which can get in the way. If M sends you out now your connection to Bond might distract you.”

My jaw drops. “Are you saying I’m incapable of carrying out what’s necessary? Bond was my mentor, Moneypenny. You think he wouldn’t have taught me to adapt to any worst case scenario? He specifically trained me to keep going if he dies.”

I shake my head and storm out the door towards the training room, hoping some major sprinting will calm my nerves. How can they think that? Why does everyone think that you can either be an emotional sucker or a deadpan machine? In this insane world the only thing I can rely on is the potential chance of death. That threat never dies in this job.

I’ve been running for about half an hour when I see Q walk into the room. He looks so out of place here in his spiffy suit.

“Cooled down yet?”

I come to a stop next to him and take a swig of water. “Don’t test me, Q. I’m not in the mood to talk about my fragile heart.” Which is currently pumping too fast for me to count.

“Hey,” the geek says in a slightly offended tone and presses a finger to my chest. “It’s that heart I fell in love with, darling. It’s just as you say: sometimes love is the only thing that keeps us human.”

I frown. “I’ve never said that.”

“Yes but it seems like something you’d say.”

I smile and huff at his childish joke. “Cute. Is there anything I can help with now since I’m too emotional for the field?”

Q sighs and rubs his head. “Never going to let that go, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Fair enough. Fine, you can come help me in the lab. There’s a new watch prototype I’ve been meaning to finish.”

After I quickly shower and put on a fresh set of clothes I head back to the technology wonderland. Q’s hunched over his desk peering at a snazzy-looking watch.

Beep! Beep!

Q’s phone goes off, startling both of us. He takes it out and puts it on speaker.

“Q, I’m sending you a picture of an island.” It’s Bond. “Find where it is, as well as everything you can on a man called Lyutsifer Safin. I’m going to need a plane, a big one. I’ll send you my location shortly.”

He must have found Dr. Swann.

“The island is in disputed waters between Japan and Russia,” Q states as he does a quick search on his laptop. “It has a chemical plant dating back to World War II. Seems it’s had quite a history. When do you need the plane, Bond?”

An idea pops into my head. “Wait. Bond, where are you?”

In the background we hear a commotion before Bond speaks again. “I think my position’s been compromised. Q, I’ll need that plane quickly. Think you can get it to me?”

The geek clicks through some files and nods. “Right then, yes. We’ll be there.”

We? Since when is Q so giddy to get out in the field?

Beep! Beep!

Now my own phone goes off and I pick it up to see Nomi calling.

“0011, I’ve just received a lead from Bond. Have you heard from him?”

My idea starts spinning faster. “He’s just requested a plane but has failed to mention his location as of now.”

“I don’t want to assume anything but I think there might be a child involved.”

This pushes me to make up my mind. “I’m going after them. Nomi, I’m going with you. I’ll meet you out there in one hour.”

I hang up and sprint over to grab my bag of supplies, opening the garage door to access my motorcycle.

Q’s already trying to argue. “There’s no reason to-”

“I will not just sit here doing bloody nothing while my best friend is out there! I’ve been useless for 5 years, might as well give those goons a good punch now.”

I feel Q walk up behind me and grab my shoulders, turning me to face him. In his face I see something that is completely new to me: fear. Q is afraid.

“I’ll be back,” I say soothingly. “I promise.”

He shakes his head, tears wanting to form in his eyes. “What if you get knocked out again? What if this time you never wake up?”

I do admit the risk of dying is much more frightening now that Q and I are officially an item. It’s this kind of situation that Bond warned me about. But I know Q’s in this with me. I’m not alone. And right now I need to put my own needs aside to serve my country.

“I can make a difference. If I don’t help, who will? I’ve been trained for this my whole life.” I grab Q’s tie and lean up to press a deep kiss to his chapped lips. He must have been biting them because of nerves. It’s little traits like that make him special. Someone worth fighting for. I’m not only fighting for my country, but for Q. And for the safety of everyone around the world.

“This is the way it is, Q. I’ve got a job to finish.”

#quartermaster x reader #quartermaster #q x reader #james bond #daniel craig #ben whishaw #skyfall #spectre #no time to die #007 #james bond 007

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katherinemallory · 3 years

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#10 The roulette of feelings

Hell is empty and all the previous chapters are here: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7 #8 #9

After a few days in London we caught our flight to Monte Carlo. I’m not sure how long we stayed there. This mission felt like a long holiday since the very beginning.

Still on board we agreed that Bond would be the one to play poker and I would pose as his wife, or, as he has put it, “a crown jewel”. Usually I don't like being treated as such, since my experience in behaving like a damsel is close to a bare minimum, but this time I really enjoyed it. Bond was clearly pleased with his leading role in this show, and - while sitting at the poker table - he started to take chances more eagerly. He boasted about his poker skills all the time and I kept working from the shadows, observing him and our rivals, and making sure that we don’t expose ourselves too much. A win-win situation.

We were quite busy spending time at the casino, discussing the tactics, or using all the possible attractions offered by the city of Monte Carlo. The only contact I had with the outside world during the first week were my reports to MI6 which went directly to M, delivered to him by Eve Moneypenny.

One day, while Bond was on the meeting with our liaison (it's amazing the SIS has got its people... everywhere), my phone rang. I picked it up and sat on my bed, crossing my legs.

"Hi Eve. It’s nice to hear you. Did you... find out anything?"

"Not yet, Kath, but I'm working on it," she reassured me. "I just wanted to know how you're doing. You haven't been in touch for *days*. I’ve only noticed your daily reports."

"I'm more than fine, thank you. And I’m sorry for not being in touch... I have to admit I've been kinda busy, but... I won’t complain. Finally I do all those things I needed to recharge my batteries."

“I can’t believe what I hear! Does it mean I should become a double-0 if I want to feel more relaxed?” she teased me.

“You definitely should try it,” I replied, smiling. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s absolutely true. I enjoy the high-life more than I expected... All those fancy parties, drinks, wealthy men, late-night strolls around the streets of Monte Carlo... You get used to it pretty quickly," I replied in delight. "Sometimes I forget that I am here for the purpose of work.”

“It’s great to hear that, Kath. You deserve it, especially after what happened in Geneva,” said Eve and hesitated. “And... And w-w-what about Bond...? I guess it’s him who takes you on these late-night strolls?”

I laid on the bed, putting one pillow under my head. I looked straight at the white ceiling.

“Well... We spend each night at the casino, pretending to be a husband and a wife who just want to enjoy themselves... In the mornings Bond tries to teach me how to play poker. I fail miserably every time!” I chuckled. “We share a suite. I had some concerns before, but so far he behaves."

Eve's voice went up really high.

"You mean he did give up on you?”

I tilted my head to the right, placing my cheek on one of the pillows and pressing the phone to my ear.

"He didn’t. We flirt regularly," I replied, as I scratched my forehead with my left hand. “But he’s more patient now, I reckon. And more self-confident. He knows I can’t pay much attention to the other men at the casino, cause it would blow our cover immediately. He knows I wouldn’t do that... This is what makes him... erm... powerful. And he probably thinks I will fall for him eventually,” I added, rolling my eyes. “And I’m afraid he’s right.”

“Uh, you don’t really *mean* it, do you?” she asked, concerned. “There’s no pressure... This mission won’t last forever.”

“Honestly, Eve? Sometimes I feel like it will last forever... And Bond’s presence gets more addictive every day,” I said, lying on my back again. “I used to make fun of it, but I’m afraid I can’t resist Bond much longer. I mean... Not because he’s irresistible, but because... I really start to feel something for him.”

I took a deep breath and then continued:

“It all depends on what you find. If Mallo... erm, if the man I asked you to spy on... is married, then I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t have an affair with Bond...”

“Fair enough,” commented Eve. “At least you know what Bond wants from you. Suppose that’s something. But didn’t you admit the other day that you loved Ma...”

“It’s more complicated than you think," I interrupted. "When you spend all days in Bond’s company, it changes your perspective entirely... You’d better hurry then. I am so confused recently...” Damn, I thought. There is no need to burden Eve with all of this... I should probably change the subject. “... but you didn’t tell me anything about yourself, how was your day at the SIS? Any news?”

“Business as usual. I can’t share much detail, but it seems like Amanda’s got reassigned as she had requested.”

“Good for her. Send my love.”

“I will. And I promise to get in touch as soon as I find out anything about... *him*.”

...

The upcoming days passed so fast that I didn’t think about anything apart from what was going on in Monte Carlo. Intuitively both myself and Bond concentrated on the everyday tasks of the mission, but it turned out most of the time we just had fun, which meant our Walther and Beretta were absolutely useless.

Since the only moments I had only to myself were those just before going to bed in the evenings, I often spent them on analyzing my own feelings and, as a result, I developed a certain kind of insomnia. Or, I should rather call it “a difficulty with falling asleep”.

My thoughts were centred on Mallory. I miss him. I miss him dearly, but only when I have time to think about what he's doing in his old-fashioned office in London. When Bond is around, it’s only him who matters to me. Why is that? What the hell has happened to me? I don't know, but it's disturbing. And I get tired every time I try to sort things out in my mind... Can I really sleep with Bond if Mallory’s married? It’s not about giving up on a married man (which is an obvious decision from my point of view, as I would never break up *anyone’s* marriage), but about being honest to myself. Do I really love Mallory if I can fantasize about Bond? Or do I really feel something for Bond if my next move depends on Mallory’s marital status?

After a few evenings of such intense thinking I realized that no matter the arguments, such analysis is pointless. I could be thinking about this for a year and still didn’t come up with a right solution. I decided to wait and see how the case would resolve itself.

On the last day - it was one of those splendid days in June when you feel the most alive - we went to the casino for one more time, looking more dashing than ever. Little did we know, when we walked hand in hand into the casino - Bond wearing a black dinner jacket and me in an evening scarlet dress - that Bond would win the night’s poker game, gaining an enormous amount of money.

Late at night, around 3 A.M. I went straight to the poker table and brought Bond a dry martini (I've already had a few of them myself to relieve the boredom).

"Congratulations," I said, handing him a martini.

"Thank you," replied Bond and drank half of his glass.

I looked at him with aroused interest while he was drinking. I was never good at poker and, as much as I didn't want to, I had to admit the way he played that night impressed me.

"What do we do now?"

For a while, he observed the olives that seemed as if they were swimming inside the glass, and then gave me a quick glance.

"We pack and come back to London."

"Is that so? What about the winnings?" I asked in disbelief, expecting some kind of joke rather than a matter-of-fact response.

"I will have to transfer them to MI6. I have already contacted M, he should send me the instructions in the next few hours."

"You've already contacted M? Someone's in a hurry. Was your time here *that* bad?” I taunted him.

Bond smirked, but didn't say anything. I glanced around the room. The people started to leave the place.

"So, it means we came here broken and we leave broken, despite the win?" I asked, laughing.

"One could say that," Bond agreed. "But I can still afford a dinner and a drink. Would you join me tonight for a humble celebration?"

"With pleasure. Let's enjoy our last hours in this marvellous place,” I said, taking him by the arm.

After the dinner in one of the restaurants at the casino, we went for our last walk around the streets of Monte Carlo. Both me and Bond became unexpectedly talkative, probably because of too many drinks we had to celebrate the happy ending of the mission.

It could have been around 5 A.M when the walk started to feel too exhausting, and we went back to our shared suite.

"Would you like another?" asked Bond, pointing to the bottle of bourbon at the table, just after we locked the door to the suite.

"Yes," I replied. "The last one for tonight."

I have no idea why I agreed to this, cause I've never been drinking much or mixing alcohols in the past. After Bond handed me my glass, I let my hair down and rushed to the balcony. I need to see this amazing city just one more time before I go to sleep, I thought. I observed the skyline, waiting for Bond to join me.

"To the king and queen of Monaco," said Bond and we clinked glasses, standing next to each other.

I smiled at him and drank the whole glass with my eyes closed, but I still could tell he was staring at me.

"You know, Katherine, it's been one of my favourite missions so far."

"Really?”

"Yes... It’s the simplicity of it,” he took off his dinner jacket, thrown it on the nearest chair, and then continued. “The task I'm really good at... the fairy-tale location, no rush... and the right woman. You," he said in his deep, smooth voice and put his glass on the floor.

Then he put one of his hands on the railing and turned to me, but didn’t say a word, as if he intended to find out how close to me I would allow him to move.

“It’s an honour to hear something like that from such an experienced double-0,” I said timidly, still holding the empty glass in my hands.

Bond gazed at me for a few seconds.

"It's true, I've been a double-0 for quite a while," he said and turned his head to look at the skyline of Monte Carlo, "but rarely did I feel this close with another agent. It's strange. I’ve always tried to avoid being emotionally attached to anyone. Cause of the job's nature and all that stuff."

This time it was me who stayed quiet. I just kept listening to him, realizing how much I *love* his voice and how could I listen to him talking *forever*. It occurred to me how beautiful his magnetic blue eyes were, especially in the middle of the night. One could say the same about Bond's face which now seemed to me like the face of the most handsome man on the planet. It should be illegal to be *that* handsome, I thought.

Bond turned his head to me.

"Then I've met you... and it seems I forget about all of those rules in the blink of an eye... it seems I don't control myself anymore."

I don't know how it happened, but in the next moment I found myself in Bond's arms. I felt his embrace, so tight, as if he wanted to protect me from all of the threats of this world. The glass dropped out of my hands and probably broke up, but we didn’t hear anything apart from the sound of our pumping hearts. I placed my hands on Bond’s chest, and we began to kiss, not being able to control the lust that started to fulfil our bodies. I quickly moved my hands to his neck and then the back of his head. I caressed his hair, which felt like the most pleasant material I have ever touched.

"You're the woman of my dreams," whispered Bond, when he started to kiss my neck. In response, I tilted my head back, but continued to touch his hair.

Out of the blue Bond picked me up and headed towards the bedroom. He was in a hurry, wanting to put me on his bed as soon as possible. He took off his shirt and laid down on me, holding my waist and passionately kissing my neck.

"Oh, James," I moaned, as the touch of his lips and hands started to turn me on. “Keep going... umm... And use that nice, deep voice of yours.”

“Like this?” he asked, lowering his voice and biting my ear. “Do you like it?”

“Yes...”

Oh my, I am in heaven. If he doesn't stop, I'll melt, I thought. I let Bond kiss me a few more times, but then moved to the other side of the bed to undress. Bond watched me hungrily as I took off my dress and stockings. And there I was, lying on his bed and wearing only my sexy black lingerie. I thought that he would eat me if he could.

I encouraged Bond with a sensual gesture, touching myself where I wanted to be touched the most. He couldn’t stand watching me for long, and came closer to kiss me again. He slowly moved from my belly and breasts to my neck.

“I've been waiting for this moment since the day we've met," he murmured, while kissing my collarbone.

I closed my eyes to double the thrill and make the experience more intense. My hands moved to his back and held him tighter.

"You drive me crazy," Bond whispered into my ear.

A fast thought crossed my mind. It's true what they say in the Service... nobody does it better... he's definitely a great lay... to hell with “the revenge plot”, go for it, Kath. I was just about to take off my bra, when I heard something was vibrating. I got a text. Great timing. I opened my eyes and reluctantly sat on the bed, bending down to the bedside cabinet.

"Oh, Katherine, just ignore it," said Bond who still caressed my waist with his right hand.

"Look who’s talking," I replied. "The most professional man in the Service... There’s no need to describe this to you..."

I looked at the screen and in that exact moment my adventurous mood was gone. I felt as if my heart stopped for a short while.

Hi, just wanted to let you know that I have some evidence. He's not married anymore. Love, Eve

I quickly locked the screen to prevent Bond from seeing the message, as I felt his touch on my back. He hugged me from behind, kissing my left shoulder.

"Shall we continue?" he asked in his naughty manner.

I froze in my tracks. What about M? How can I fight for him if I sleep with another man right now? I promised myself to fight for Mallory and I have to be consistent. This was fun, but... I love Mallory, right? It's high time to stop playing games... and to finally forget about Bond. Perhaps it's a good sign I got this message before we did antyhing reckless.

I stood up with my back to Bond, still holding the phone in my hands.

"I'm sorry James... but I can't do this,” I declared as seriously as I could.

"But why?" he asked calmly, but his voice was full of disappointment and sadness. "Was it something I did?"

Oh, dear James, I thought. If you only knew how perfectly you did everything...

"No," I replied and turned to him. My voice was shaking a bit. "It was... it was a wonderful night, but I've never slept with a co-worker before... and... I've just realized it would be wrong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for this," I blurted out and felt a tear doing down my cheek.

Bond seemed not to believe me.

"You've *just* realized it? *Just* after you've got that message," he said, pointing to my phone. "I don't know what this is about, but... we've had such a great time here, why not celebrate it tonight? It doesn’t matter at all that we work together."

I turned my head in embarrassment, trying not to look at him. He stood up and came closer to me.

"I know that you like me," Bond said and placed his hands on my arms. "You can't simply deny our chemistry. You've seen what kind of magic it can cause... you don't have to ruin it."

I took his hands off me and went to the other side of the bed to grab my clothes.

"I'm really sorry, James. It's over."

"It's over before it even started... Strange, isn’t it?"

I ignored him, as I headed toward to the door leading to my part of the suite. I must have looked miserable in my sexy black lingerie, holding my evening dress, and being on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"I don't want to hurt you *again*," I said quietly with my hand on the doorknob.

Bond shook his head.

"You will hurt me if you leave,” he said calmly, but I knew he was full of anger. His eyes told me he was suspicious of everything I’ve said.

As I knew he had the very right to be suspicious, I turned my back on him, trying to get inside my part of the suite. My hands started to shake, making it impossible to quickly open the door.

“You still think about *him*, don’t you Kath...?” Bond asked in a raised voice, with his hands on his hips. “Why do you keep deceiving yourself? He’s not cut out for it! He doesn’t see you this way... and even if something happened between us he wouldn’t care!”

But I would, James. I would, I thought, going inside my part of the suite through the door. I couldn’t bear to look at those cold blue eyes again.

I went up straight to the bathroom and locked the door. I could not think of anything else than just bursting into tears.

You're so stupid, Kath. Mallory thinks you're responsible, but you're just stupid, I thought, looking at myself in the mirror. What was that for? Bond might be a womanizer, but no one deserves to be treated like that. No one. Does he use other women? He does. But it’s none of your business, Kath. You don't offer someone the pleasure and then deny it. You just don’t...

I spend a few minutes sitting on a bathroom’s floor and crying.

But looking on the bright side... at least I got my backup story. Everyone will see something’s happened between us, but no one will ask questions. And if there is a slightest chance M cares about me, he’ll get the message.

I can’t wait for this mission to be really over. By this time tomorrow I shall be in my apartment in London. Alone.

***

To be continued.

#fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #002 #007 #james bond #bond james bond #m #gareth mallory #katherine mallory #eve moneypenny #casino royale quote #the spy who loved me song quote #nobody does it better

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dyke-remy · 3 years

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Live And Let Die, part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Description: Agent 008 and Agent 009, professional spies for the MI6 with liscense to kill. Partners in both work and love. After an agent goes missing the partners have to once more go out into the field. (It’s a James Bond AU)

You don’t need to know anything about James Bond to be able to read this fic, trust me

Words: 3505

The train cart was filled with silence. Remy looked at the dog tag, the dog tag which had belonged to Roman. They looked up at their husband. He was staring right through them.

"I- I'll call Q. He'll get us home" Remy hastily let out.

They didn't get a reply. Remus sat perfectly still as they talked to Q. He seemed to be looking at a ghost. Maybe he was dissociating, maybe he was reliving the death. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Eventually Remy got up and took his hand. They held onto him until the train got to it's next stop. Held onto him the long car ride to an airport. Held onto him the entire flight back to England. Held onto him until they back to their apartement at MI6. They knew he would break apart if they let go right now.

Remy was sure M would give them a break from missions. Remus was barely eating, much less sleeping. No one could except him to work.

And yet here they were, 2 days later in M's office. Remus actually sat in a normal position in one of the chairs which was so unusual it even made M uncomfortable. Remy sat in his lap with their arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

"-I assure you 009 that I would let you two have a break if this mission wasn't urgent. Trust me I would be very happy if you two disappeared from my sight for a while" M aka Deceit said. One of his pet snakes had made itself comfortable around his neck.

"Sure girl. What's so fucking important then?"

Deceit pushed a paper over the desk towards them "This. Your luck was in your favor 009. You brought back a document from Ron Stewart's, the man you killed, room on the train correct?"

"Girl I dunno. 75% of the time I'm just like running on instinct and iced coffee but yeah sure"

"Yes well this document talks about Stewart's company partially being bought by this company by the name of Vigur. I didn't recognize it so I asked Q to do some research and-"

"It's a vampire sex ring!" Remy guessed.

Deceit blinked at them "Close. No it's a new company, actually it hasn't even started yet. It will have an opening this week in Manchester. It's an energy company and apparently it's lead by a young new business entrepreneur. It's strange.....When Q looked him up there was nothing. No history, no photos, no educational records. Only a few articles about him and his dad and that he was the leader of Vigur"

"I didn't catch the name"

"Virgil. Virgil Viverno"

Remus suddenly moved his arms around Remy's waist so tightly their ribs hurt. He buried his head against their shoulder. His spouse' placed their hands on top of his.

Deceit looked at him varily. He really did want to let the agents go on a break, he wasn't heartless, but, well, they had a mission to finish, even if it had become an intricate one.

"I suggest you two infiltrate the opening of the company. Find any information you can because somehow this has to be connected to the killings of agents caused by....Jaws...To aid I asked Moneypenny to follow Virgil around a bit and take a few pictures so you two know who to interrogate"

Deceit called for Moneypenny aka Patton. He entered the office with a stack of photos in his hands before sitting down on the edge of the table and laying out the photos. It was all of the so called Virgil. He was sitting in a car far away in all of them so it was a bit hard to see but they got the basic gists of him having short unkept black hair and sickly pale skin.

"Aww Patty I didn't know you got to work out in the field" Remy commented.

Deceit arched his brow "Don't underestimate him"

"I might not be as good in combat as y'all are but I can be sneaky and take a few photos every now and then"

Deceit sent him an unusually warm smile "You did a good job"

Moneypenny blushed slightly "Oh shush you snakecharmer. I'm married"

Remy grabbed one of the photos and looked closer "Betting on him being gay so time for some guy drag. Just 'cause I'm like tots too lazy to get into womany attire. We'll infiltrate the party, I'll take him to his hotel room and look for anything about why this new stupid company exists"

They were quiet for a few seconds before adding with venom in their tone "Or why they murdered Picani"

Patton leaned over and patted them on their shoulder to comfort them. "Yeah it's a bit weird. I followed him around for quite a few days but he rarely ever left the house he was staying at. He never even walked around. Either he was at that house or he was driven directly to the company building. He never stayed there for long so he couldn't have been working"

"Mhm" Deceit began "It could mea-"

Remus slammed his hand down into the table.

"You're all ignoring Roman"

Patton paled a little. Deceit leaned back in his seat. They were all silent.

"I- I mean the dog tag it- it has to mean this- the company- Picani it must have something to do with Roman doesn't it- I mean- I mean- Maybe- Roman could be alive"

Remus looked around at them while holding the tag close to his chest. He didn't look mad. He just looked like a cornered animal, a hurt prey.

"Kiddo" Patton held out his hand, unsure if to comfort or reason with him.

"Killing a 00 agent is quite a big thing. I can imagine that someone would gladly take the dog tag and keep it with them as a souvenir if they'd been in the same building as where it happened. From your reports of what happened there is no chance your brother is alive" Deceit stated bluntly "It is of far greater importance to try and find this 'Jaws' guy before he kills any more 00 agents"

All of the air seemed to go out of Remus. His arms loosened around Remy. They tried to comfort him and whisper sweet nothings to him.

"M don't be so cold about it!" Patton exclaimed. "It's okay kiddo. I'm sure- Maybe- We-" He pressed his lips into a tight line and tried to think about anything positive to say. He gave up and moved to try and hug Remus at least.

Remus stood up from the chair so quickly Remy nearly fell down on the floor. He banged his hands down into the table and leaned close to Deceit. His furious brown, nearly red, eyes stared into Deceit's cold black ones.

"I'll capture Jaws and I'll drag him back here. I'll drop him right here on your bloody desk if that's what it takes to make you take me seriously. And then I Will find my brother! Even if it's just his rotten corpse!"

He stormed out of the room without another word and slammed the doors shut behind him.

Remus was driving a black ashton martin towards the company's building where the opening party was being held. He had on a black suit. Remy sat in the passenger seat. They had on a looser fitting black blazer with a white button up under and pants. They'd styled it with a necklace and a few rings on their fingers.

"Babe you don't have to like do this you know that right?" Remy asked while looking over to their husband "Like it's really understandable if you want a break from work or something right now with the whole Roman thing. I can handle it on my own"

"I have to.........If there's a small chance Roman is...is.....out there I have to follow up on.....And even if he's....even if he's...gone....I want to at least stop the people who...killed....him" He held onto the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white "I want to tear them apart for hours upon hours until they're begging me to kill them"

Remy took his hand and intertwined their fingers "I'll be right here beside you" They pressed a kiss to his knuckles "I'mma be cutting people apart as well!"

Remus sent them a tired smile "Mhm. Love you my rotten lil sunflower"

They scrunched their nose "Gross"

"Nu-hu! You're my dear maggot infested heart"

"And you're the human equivalent of a mad scientist's experiment going wrong"

Remus pretended to blush "Awww you're always at your A game with compliments"

"Somebody has to be"

They leaned in for a kiss before getting out of the car. The tall building had an elegant opening door made out of glass.

Remy held onto their husband's upper arm and leaned on his shoulder as they walked in. The entrance was a grand room looking outmost modern. The reception had been turned into a bar and there were cocktail tables here and there.

The opening party was mostly to establish connectioncs between CEOs and such. It was all fake smiles and empty talking between glasses of champange.

"Let's say we're here for my mom's company" Remus whispered.

"Oh yeah the super legal one with a brilliant name" Remy chuckled back.

"Don't you dishonor the name of Octopussy!" He did a dramatic pout "But we'll say we're from the hotel business side of the company and not the y'know jewel smuggling-"

"Or circus business"

"Or circus business yes"

They mingled among the crowd while looking for Virgil. It was ironic how Remy was better at talking about the Octopussy company than Remus was. He'd always been better at the smuggling part than the business part while it was the reverse for his twin. Roman had been chosen to become the full time leader of the company once their mom retired...well that had changed obviously.

Remy was in the middle of making up an elaobarate lie about Octopussy totally being besties with the owner of this company to some business men when Remus pulled them aside. He pointed over to a dark corner of the room.

"Holy shit!" Remy gasped while their eyes widened "That's a total heart-throb!"

"What- No-" Remus looked at them with a confused look before looking back at the corner.

Remy was looking at a tall, broad shouldered, muscular guy in a slick black suit. He stood near the corner with his arms crossed. They were practically looking at him with heart eyes.

"Awww babe are you trying to find me a date? He's just my type!" They said while holding onto their tall, broad shouldered, muscular husband wearing a slick black suit.

"Sorry darling dearest but I was pointing at Virgil"

Next to the muscular guy a skinny man was sitting by a lone table. He had on a black button up shirt with a purple hoodie over. There was a glass of soda in front of him.

Remy pouted "That's not as fun"

"You can try to flirt with him while you get info from Virgil" Remus moved his hand to their jaw and leaned their head up "You horndog"

"Shut up your bundle of bacteria" They teased back before leaning in to kiss him.

"A demon would be jealous of your horniness......because....y'know....demon horns"

"Girl I could walk into a public toilet and press my finger against the wall and I would get the same amount of filth on my finger from that wall as I would get from your skin"

Remus kissed them again "Love you"

"Love you too" They smiled into the kiss.

"Be careful. If I see you leave with Virgil I'll follow you and cut in if I hear anything fucked aight?"

"Got it gal!"

Their hands lingered together for an extra moment before they both willed themself to let go. Remy walked towards Virgil. They unbuttoned the top 2 buttons on their shirt, dragged up their shirt sleeves slightly and fixed their hair.

They didn't get to Virgil. The tall muscular man stopped them beforehand by grabbing onto their shoulder. They couldn't honestly say that they were complaining.

"Mr. Viverno doesn't wish to talk to any more strangers for the rest of the night. He's already had enough people try to manipulate him with sweet talking and business deals" The man, who Remy assumed was a bodyguard, said in a stern tone.

Remy sent him a cheeky smile "Aww girl I'm not here for some money talk or whateva. I just hate parties. I was forced here just as much as the next boytoy"

The bodyguard sneered at them but from over his shoulder they could see Virgil glancing at them. In the low light it was hard to see the details of his face.

"Theo it's okay. You can let him in"

Remy had a shit eating grin on their face as they gracefully sauntered past the bodyguard apparently named Theo. They slumped down on the seat on the opposite side of the table to Virgil. He seemed okay with just sitting in silence, Remy wasn't.

"I'm Diamandis. Remington Diamandis" They reached out their hand after saying the totally real and not at all made up name.

Virgil just stared at their hand "You already know my name. You wouldn't be at the opening if you didn't"

They leaned their elbows on the table "Yeah well introductions are always nice either way. Know whats not like nice? Parties. Fucking hate them" They lied.

He quickly nodded along "Everything is so....loud....there's so many peoples. I've never been to any sort of party or anything before but I already hate them"

"Impressive. If I could choose I would have tots been...." Remy tried to figure out what Virgil would react to best "Been staying in my room all alone like just calm no sounds. Sadly my daddy is like involved with this like octopussy company so I gotta be here" They saw how Virgil immediately tried to hold back a smile at the mention of the name "It's okay, you can laugh"

He covered his mouth with his hand while giggling "Sorry- Sorry it's just- that's a bad word"

"I'm aware. I've been looking to get a new daddy anyhow. Someone less boring who doesn't drag me to all these stuck up parties"

"....Through....adoption...?...Or...?"

Remy realized they were talking to an innocent lamb and quickly changed the subject "So you wanna buy us drinks? A fancy cocktail would sound nice right about now" They leaned their chin on their hands and moved closer.

"I uh I can't. Maybe some soda I dunno"

"What? You're waiting 'till marriage to drink or something"

Virgil glanced up at him "No I- I'm not allowed. I'm 15. Theo said-"

Remy reared back into their seat. The smug look on their face was instantly gone as they buttoned up their shirt all the way up. Now when they knew he was a teenager it was blatantly obvious. Suddenly they noticed the subtle acne on his face, how his arms clearly had had a growth spurt before the rest of his body, how he still kind of had baby cheeks.

"I'm sorry. You should have said- I didn't think- I'm sorry that's like tots gross of me- The lightning is really bad I couldn't see- Sorry girl" They babbled out.

"What are you apologizing for?" Virgil asked while tilting his head.

"I the adult here flirted with you- which is so disgusting and girl I'm like-"

Virgil looked like he was one step away from slamming his hands into the table and standing up "Flirting??" His eyes widened "That was flirting??"

"Indeed it was. I was close to punching you the entire time" Theo muttered while eyeing Remy.

"This is almost as cool and as when I got to try out a phone for the first time a few days ago" Virgil pointed over to Theo "He has a bunch of games on his phone. They're really fun"

Theo let out a ridiculously tired sigh "The games are just there for my kids I swear"

Remy zoned out of the conversation. The sheer weirdness of someone who apparently is a CEO 1. being a teenager and 2. not owning a phone had taken them right out. Every step of this mission seemed to make it weirder and weirder. It made their head hurt with unanswered questions.

"-my room?" Remy got forced out of their thoughts as Virgil asked them something.

"What?"

"Do you want to go to my room? I have a room on the second floor in case I ever need to stay over for the night. The place I actually live is quite far away from here" He fiddled with his sleeves "You said you would rather be in your room like ehhh being calm so I thought we could go away from all the loud people at least"

"Sure kid" Remy almost felt bad for how easily Virgil had done exactly what they wanted him to.

He got up and mumbled something to Theo before setting off towards the elevator. Remy blew Theo a kiss before waving goodbye as they walked past him. In response he gave them the middle finger, clearly showing of the wedding ring on his finger.

One short elevator ride later they were following Virgil through a long hallway. It was all cold grey walls and light that gave them a headache. It was quiet apart from the muffled sounds from the people on the first floor.

Virgil suddenly reached out and held onto the sleeve of their blazer. He looked up at them with big eyes "Have you ever touched snow?"

"....Yes-"

He held onto them harder and a smile played at the edge of his lips "Can you describe it?"

Remy was a bit taken aback by the weird question but shrugged and began to describe it. Nothing had been worse than the freezing winters with nothing but their mothers and a cheap sleeping bag to keep them warm. From the corner of their eye they caught a glimpse of Remus following them.

Virgil's smile grew wider the more they described it. His blue eyes looked at them as if they were the most knowledgable person ever. Before they knew they'd reached his room. It was mostly bare. Just a bed, a nightstand and a few boxes. The bed wasn't even comfortable as they sat down alongside the teenager.

They glanced around for anything important. Drugging a teenager so he fell asleep so they could search through his room made them feel really disgusting but at least it was better than knocking him out. Hopefully it would just feel like a quick nap. Hopefully they could hide the sleeping pill in some soda.

"Are you looking for something?" Virgil asked.

"Nah girl. Nothing. I was just-"

Remy turned back to look at him. His smile was gone and his blue eyes suddenly seemed cold. It felt like his gaze was piercing through them.

"Oh 009. You should have paid more attention" Virgil murmured.

Their blood ran cold at the mention of their 00 title. They tried to speak but realized their mouth felt numb. Their whole body felt numb and as heavy as lead.

"Do you seriously think Theo would have let you be alone with me unless he knew you were so stupid you wouldn't even care to look at the most important part of this room" He scoffed at them.

Remy fell back on the bed. Their eyelids could barely stay open as they looked up. Their eyes widened as they saw dozens upon dozens of spiders sitting on the roof.

"Ruthie is such a good girl" Virgil picked up a big black spider that had been crawling around on the covers. He patted her while talking "All it takes is a small bite from her and a human can be passed out for up to 6 hours"

Remy wanted to muster up the strenght to snarl an insult at least. Instead all they could do was fall asleep as their eyes rolled to the back of their skull.

Virgil's smile widened "Goodnight"

He let out a few more of his dear spiders crawl up on his arms. He threw the bed lamp down on the ground and let out a few fake muffled cries. It was too trick 009's equally as stupid partner to rush in.

And he did. Of course he did.

Remus stumbled into the room with a neutral expression plastered on his face. His eyes darted around the room but quickly landed on his sleeping spouse.

"Sorry! I was uh looking for the bathroom!" He threw out "Oh wow one of you is unconcious that's not good especially not while in bedrooms! Maybe I should stay"

Virgil looked at him as he was the biggest idiot on earth. A few spiders started to crawl up Remus' legs. He looked down at them and quickly shook them off before stomping on them.

"YOU FUCKER!" Virgil yelled. He shot up from the bed and closed his hands into fists. He nearly teared up at the sight of the dead spiders.

Remus took a step back and raised his hands "Hey kid I'm sorry but-"

He didn't say anything more. A harsh hit landed on the back of his neck. He immediately fell down on the ground.

The whole room was spinning. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Virgil moving to hug a person. He seemed to be lifted from the ground and spun around in the hug.

The last thing Remus heard before he passed out was Virgil happily letting out a "Jawsie!!"

#live and let die #sanders sides #not countdown #remus sanders #janus sanders #remy sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #intrusleep #resleep #remsleep #rem^2 #thomas sanders

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disconnected-from-reality · 4 years

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Fanfic Rec: 00Q Part 3

It’s been more than a year! I have totally been procrastinating in doing this if I’m truly honest. A lot of things happened in my life as well! There are good and bad things, but what matters most is that I still have a number of fics to recommend for you! I haven’t stopped reading, don’t worry.

Also I think it’s a good time to post my list. The next Bond movie has released its trailer and the 00Q crumbs we got from the trailer got a lot of shippers back on board. If you’re that person, you might want to check these fanfics out!

To see the other parts, click here for part 1 and for part 2.

Let Love In by dhampir72 [Words: 21,437 | Teens and Up Audiences] They're still learning that love is more of a journey and less of a destination. [A series of interconnected vignettes].

Ulysses by girlbookwrm [Words: 89,065 | Teens and Up Audiences] “Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said. “Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?” M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.” Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q. All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Espionage is a Family Affair by nagapdragon [Words: 78.403 | Mature] It's common knowledge that angels make good weapons and terrible soldiers. They're hard to kill, hard to catch, and leave a swathe of destruction wherever they go. That's why MI6 likes them. James Bond, Agent 007, is one of the most devastating weapons MI6 will admit to having. Explosions follow his every whim and he's nearly impossible to kill, despite the best efforts of terrorists worldwide. He's second only to the weapons MI6 pretends don't exist- archangels are only a theory, after all. Aren't they?

Bond to You by therunawaypen [Words: 5,749 | Mature] Bond isn't a name. It's a rare breed of people that have designated soulmates, to whom a Bond will be eternally faithful to. Every child dreams of being a Bond's Chosen soulmate. James uses his status as a Bond to seduce many a mark into thinking they're his Chosen, while deep down he resents his identity because he has been unable to find his Chosen. Then he meets Q that fateful day in front of that painting.

How Q Hacked Online Dating by JayPendragon [Words: 23,836 | Explicit] “How does that lead to…?” Eve waves her hand at the mess behind Q’s back. Q feels his expression morph into a sly grin. “I have a new plan. I’m going to stay on these dating platforms, but I’m going to treat them as databases. Rather than waiting for an algorithm to set me up, I'm going to try reverse-engineering this entire system.” In which Q works in the private sector, still winds up friends with Eve, and applies science to his love life. Obviously, Eve gets involved.

Leading Edge by Batsutousai [Words: 7,251 | Teens and Up Audiences] All fae-born were raised on stories of how cruel dragon-borns were, how they had no care for anyone outside themselves and their greed, that they would sell their own mother's soul to the devil before allowing themselves to be hurt. They were told that all dragon-borns were to be killed on sight, and taught spells that would do just that, if ever given the chance. It would be just Q's luck that one of his agents was dragon-born.

Pen and Paper by Salios [Words: 5,300 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q wrung his hands anxiously, teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was a bad habit, biting his lip, but he couldn’t help it when he was nervous. And he really did have reason to be nervous. Well, excited to the point of nearly crippling nervousness, actually. Today he’d finally get to meet his boyfriend of three years. For the first time ever.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron [Words: 10,538 | Teens and Up Audiences] “I’m not you, Bond. I don’t exactly have a technique for getting rich strangers to like me.” “Just do your naive cute puppy thing, and they’ll be doting on you in no time,” Bond replies as he pulls up to the grand estate. “My what?” Q asks incredulously. Bond doesn’t answer, simply giving him an indulgent smile. The fucker. (or: 00q meets Gosford Park. Except not really.)

A Common Solution by SailorChibi [Words: 17,654 | Teens and Up Audiences] Bond has been ignoring his biological needs. Boothroyd is retiring and MI6 is in need of a new Quartermaster. What do these two things have in common? They both have an easy solution... if only M can get Bond to extract a certain hacker NOTE: This does not have the “James Bond/Q” tag, but I’ll add it in my list anyway.

Taken by Nana_41175 [Words: WIP | Explicit] Or, the cheating fic that *nearly* is! Q is engaged to be married, but not to Bond. Excerpt: Bond blinked. “Boyfriend? What do you mean, boyfriend?” “I mean exactly that,” said Moneypenny. “Honestly, what’s the matter with you? Q’s been seeing someone for over a year. And if I’m not mistaken, Daniel is going to pop the question on him this evening. Dan asked me for advice on the ring, after all.” NOTE: This is currently a WIP fanfic, but it’s almost done with 2 chapters left to be posted. Would be a bummer if I don’t add it, right?

His Keeper by Nana_41175 [Words: 45,482 | Explicit] Protecting the Quartermaster entails a special set of circumstances, and Q is the last one to know. Excerpt: “Your identity has been compromised,” M said as he leaned forward in his chair, his features grim even as his tone remained even and calm. “I am standing you down from all your duties in Q branch. Kindly hand in all personal computers and devices. I am placing you on administrative leave, effective immediately. You need to disappear for a while, Q, for your own safety. Think of this as the holiday you never had these past two years. We will get down to the bottom of this and repair the damage done; otherwise I shall have to ask you to step down. ”Q gaped at him, finally speechless. “At any rate, quartermasters are entitled to double-O agents as bodyguards, when the need arises, and he personally volunteered,” M continued as though he’d not just dropped the equivalent of a bomb and a death sentence through slow torture rolled into one, “and I do agree that under the circumstances, 007 would be the best choice as your bodyguard.”

Daddy and Uncle James by 1MissMolly [Words: 26,115 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond can remain cool and collected in the most trying of circumstances. He is an expert at hand to hand combat and marksman with numerous weapons. He can seduce any woman or man he chooses. He has the highest success rate at achieving his goals, and he has his sights on the young Quartermaster. The only thing standing in his way is the only thing that will surely defeat him. A six year old girl named Elizabeth Park. Bond's planned seduction of Q is interrupted by the arrival of Q's daughter, Lizzie.

Treason, Traitors, and Treachery by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar [Words: 63,230 | Mature] All James Bond wanted was a quiet holiday on his luxury motoryacht on the Costa del Sol. Time to recuperate and think about his future with MI6. But his plans get hijacked when a traitor to the crown returns, bringing news of an even greater threat to MI6. And the traitor isn't working alone.Thankfully, neither is James.

Playing the Part by ElektricAngel [Words: 23,116 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond comes into Q Branch after a mission with all of his equipment accounted for and in tact, and a complete mission report in Q's inbox. Q is pleasantly surprised and more than a little suspicious. Rightly so, as it happens, because Bond makes an unusual request of him. And yet, his license to kill is not the only thing that makes the man difficult to say no to...

Breathe With Me by Flantastic [Words: 7,575 | Explicit] When James Bond goes back to MI6 following his disastrous relationship with Dr Madeleine Swann, Q wants nothing to do with him. Then there's an accident in Q-Branch...

Bittersweet by dr_girlfriend [Words: 14,229 | Explicit] The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense. The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation. The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something. The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.And then, it became something else.

A Bond of Matrimony by enigma_kar [Words: 12,691 | Mature] The one where Bond’s next mission involves going undercover with Q. Includes: banter, fake marriage, espionage, car chases, life-or-death situations, and Moneypenny taking far too much delight in the whole affair.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron [Words: 6,002 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q has been in love for two years, six months, and twelve days when James Bond walks away, leaving him with a bleeding head and a broken heart on a dark and noisy London bridge.

just like old times (please don’t ever change) by Rosslyn [Words: 5,173 | Teens and Up Audiences] Sometimes when Q is alone in his workshop and there is an experiment that needs to be supervised and he can’t go home and he can’t sleep, he watches Bond’s vitals.

How Much Love Can the Weight of Water Carry? by 00QEros (Dassandre) [Words: 39,549 | Explicit] Though Bond returned to MI6 after his ill advised jaunt around the globe with Madeleine Swann, Q still struggles with his own feelings for the agent in spite of the fact that Bond is clearly not the same man as the one who walked away from their friendship on Westminster Bridge. James regrets having left London and MI6, but it is nothing in comparison to the remorse he feels for abandoning Q. However, James has made repairing their friendship his primary goal in the hope of gaining something he never realised he needed as badly as he does. But Bond really hasn’t had a good time of it lately. Breaking his leg in a freak accident, James camps out at Q’s flat when the white-washed, soulless walls of Medical become too much for him to tolerate. Unfortunately, his leg is only the beginning of Bond’s health problems, and Q is conscripted into being James’ caretaker. Confined to the close quarters of Q’s flat, the Quartermaster finds himself opening back up to the agent, but will the two men find their way to one another as they should have done years ago, or is time no longer on their side?

So I guess that’s it for now! I still have a couple in my belt, but most of them are still WIP so I’d keep them for now. I’ll be adding them once they are finished.

#00Q #James Bond #Q(James Bond)#fanfic rec #fic rec

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melynen · 4 years

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Sweet Pandemonium - 00Q

((Inspired by the prompt of LDWS week 4, and adds on to this fic.))

“Who authorised this?” Q demands as soon as he’s finished reading the mission brief. “Who, upon seeing that the mission requires two agents, in their infinite wisdom decided to give it to double-ohs bloody five and seven?”

Moneypenny, for her part, gives him a look that is a mix of virtuous innocence and smug satisfaction that is surely meant to proclaim her sterling inculpability. Q sees right through it, though, because she’s barely even trying to conceal the latter.

Bond and Shaw, the bloody double-ohs in question, give him matching hurt looks, both of which Q is perfectly capable of ignoring, having seen them far too many times due to Bond being his lover and Shaw his close friend. A very close friend with whom he’s been undercover as boyfriends, he might add, which only means that he’s even better equipped to resist the pout that’s forming on those full lips.

“I am hurt, Q,” Shaw declares when all it does is make Q roll his eyes. “Hurt, I tell you. Bond and I are the best agents for this mission, ask anyone.”

“I did, and I can think of at least five better candidates off the top of my head.”

“Should I feel insulted? I think I should feel insulted,” Bond says, making Moneypenny grin and Q feel the beginnings of a small but persistent headache forming behind his eyes.

“I’m making R your handler, just so you know,” Q tells the room at large. There’s no way he’ll touch this particular mission with a ten-foot pole, that’s for sure.

“Oh my sweet crumpet,” Shaw says, strangely cheerful, “you can’t.”

“It needs to be you. M’s orders,” Bond adds.

Q glances at Moneypenny who nods at him, sounding a touch apologetic. “They’re correct. The mission needs the best people, and you’re it, Q.”

“We’re all it,” Shaw corrects.

“Yes, fine, you’re all it. Just remember this the next time you feel like complaining about never getting any interesting missions.” Moneypenny gives both agents a pointed look, then turns back to Q. “You’ve got until the end of the week to finish the kits. Do you think it’s doable?”

Q nods. “Yes, I see no problem there,” he says, with the barest hint of a stress over the word ’there’. The problem lies squarely on Bond and Shaw, as far as he’s concerned.

Moneypenny smiles. “Excellent. I’ll go give M the good news.” She offers Bond and Shaw a regal nod and then leaves Q’s office.

“The way I see it,” Q tells the two menaces still remaining, “there’s only one way for this mission to succeed.”

“Which is…?”

“That neither of you will call me anything other than Q while we’re on the clock. There will also be absolutely no ignoring me or accidentally losing your earpiece or any other shenanigans I’m used to seeing from you. Yes, Bond, I mean you. And yes, Shaw, I do mean the ban on all pet names. Can you both do that much for me?”

Q looks from Bond to Shaw and back and raises an eyebrow to show that he means business. Neither of them look particularly impressed, however.

“Of course, darling,” Bond is quick to assure him.

Shaw nods emphatically. “Certainly. You know us, we aim to please.”

Q snorts. “Yes, yourselves.”

“Is it just me, or does our Q have an awfully low opinion on our sincerity?” Shaw asks, ponderingly.

“He does, doesn’t he? I think we ought to do something about it,” Bond replies, taking a step closer to where Q stands.

“I agree. Perhaps you have something in mind to start with?”

“I most certainly do.”

“Bond…” Q says warningly, but to no avail. Bond still makes his way over to him and effortlessly corners him against the filing cabinet; although to be entirely honest, Q’s not exactly resisting his boyfriend’s advances. (It’s been a long day and he misses Bond’s closeness, so sue him.)

“Well, it looks like you have everything under control here,” Shaw says, sounding more amused than the situation warrants, at least if anyone asks Q. (Not that anyone does, but he’s not exactly surprised.) “So I shall take my leave. Though Q? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

With those parting words, Shaw exits the office. Q shakes his head at what has become an inside joke of sorts between the three of them, and then focuses his attention on Bond again.

“Hello, Q,” Bond says with that specific tone in his voice. Q has become intimately acquainted with it during his time as Bond’s boyfriend, and so he can easily predict just what the man is after.

“Hello to you too,” Q says, patiently looking into Bond’s eyes.

“I’ve missed you all day,” Bond murmurs and leans closer to nuzzle at Q’s neck and jawline. Q shivers at the feeling and brings up a hand to run his fingers through Bond’s hair, still feeling elated that he can.

“You’ve been here at my branch most of the day,” he feels compelled to point out. Although to be fair, he’d been too busy to really acknowledge Bond’s presence for the better part of the day, and when he did it was to give the man a gadget that needed testing, or to direct him to some of his minions that needed a helping hand.

All in all, Bond’s feelings are definitely welcome.

“That is certainly one way to put it,” Bond allows, sounding muffled but clearly amused. “Another would be that I was here but you were pretty much ignoring me.”

“I can’t help it if I’m busy while at work.”

“Neither can you blame me for wanting you in my arms.”

“You’ve got me there now,” Q says, then gasps when Bond takes it as his cue to start nipping and kissing at his skin.

”James… we’re in full view of the cameras.”

“I don’t care.”

“Of course you don’t,” Q mutters, but he tilts his head obligingly when Bond nudges him with his nose and enjoys the affection.

“It’ll be fine, darling,” Bond says after a while, punctuating it with a gentle kiss at the corner of Q’s mouth.

“Will it though?” Q asks, seeking reassurance. “Will you two be able to follow the mission directive without any undue deviations, the way you especially have a habit of doing?”

“We will,” Bond says. “While we may occasionally act in ways that might suggest otherwise, we are professionals.”

“Sometimes I do beg to differ,” Q says, and gets a kiss with more than a hint of teeth in it as his punishment. Not that he considers it a punishment, really, and he retaliates by lightly scratching his fingers along Bond's scalp down to his nape.

“You really don’t have to worry about the mission,” Bond says after. “Besides, you’ll be in our ear the whole time.”

“Mm, yes, there is that.” Q says, although there’s still perhaps a hint of disbelief in his tone.

Bond tightens his hold on him in turn, but this time he keeps whatever comments he may have for himself.

Q tries his best to bury his misgivings against Bond’s chest and enjoy the feeling of being held so close. After all, it could be worse: he could be expected to physically leave Q Branch and go into the field together with both Bond and Shaw. He shudders at the mere thought of it and hopes that things will never go quite as far as that.

#mely writes fanfiction #00Q #007 fest #teambondvillains

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katie-dub · 4 years

Text

Rapture on the Lonely Shore

Fleabag fic

Summary: Social distancing has come into play and suddenly Fleabag finds herself unable to be close to her best friend right when she needs him the most, but will it bring them closer than ever?

AO3

It’s more Fleabag fic, prompted by a lovely new fandom friend who wishes to remain anonymous. Dedicated to @eirabach who is my hero. Thanks to @profdanglaisstuff for inspiring the title and for being endlessly supportive and encouraging, along with @ohmightydevviepuu and @thisonesatellite

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" I scream into the silent void of my living room for no other reason than there's no one here with me and I fucking well can.

I am handling this coronavirus shit like a fucking pro.

Tonight Bojo told everyone to stay away from pubs, restaurants and cafes, whatever the fuck that means. Hillarys is likely fucked. I think of Joe, my regular, wondering how he'll cope without Chatty Wednesdays and the food I provide, which could quite easily send me spiralling off into a major fucking crisis, if I weren't already at least 90% of the way there.

Like I said, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

The worst part of it is that my best friend, my rock, my Priest is busy doing the Lord's work and visiting the housebound so I can't fucking see him in case he gives me the plague or vice versa. Apparently his God has a really twisted sense of humour.

My phone rings, mercifully dragging me from my thoughts.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Well, hello, Father," I say with a grin.

"Oh fuck off," he chides with a laugh, "can you go to your door?"

"Is that some kind of code?"

"Just open your fucking door."

Intrigued, I cross over to the door and throw it open. My Priest stands two metres away from it, grinning at the sight of me.

"Sorry Father, I've got to go, I've had a hot delivery." I hang up, watching his beautiful neck as he throws his head back and laughs. I love making him laugh.

The only thing worse than being mildly obsessed with your best friend who you can never be with because he's a priest, is being mildly obsessed with your best friend who you can never be with because he's a priest when you aren't even allowed to touch him. In a purely platonic way, you understand, he gives the best hugs.

Oh fuck off.

"What a line!" he says, calming down and wiping tears from his eyes.

"There's more where that came from."

"Save me." He holds up his hands in a gesture of defeat, I ignore it. I've got to get my kicks somehow.

"Have you got coronavirus? Because you definitely look hot."

"Oh God help me, that was bad."

There's a loud bang from in my house that startles me. I whip around to try and see what has happened, I hate it when He does that.

I hate that my Priest has me thinking that there is a God, and that he is messing with me.

I look back to see him smirking at me, raising his eyebrows as though defying me to comment on what just happened.

“Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“Do you want to go for a walk? I’d love to go for a walk with you.”

“Doesn’t that go against the rules?” I say, already reaching for my coat..

“We can maintain our distance, just like spies.” He has a twinkle in his eyes, delighted by his own cleverness.

I pull on my trench coat. “You wanted to be James Bond as a kid, didn’t you?” I bet he was a cute kid.

“That tosser? Fuck no, although I wouldn’t have complained if Miss Moneypenny had wanted to check out my concealed weapon.”

“Father!” I gasp in mock horror even as I try to hide the snort that escapes me.

"I wasn't always a priest," he says lightly, "you know that." He turns and walks back through my gate and onto the street. He turns back to me, smiling and waiting for me to join him.

"Oh fuck, I should wash my hands, shouldn't I?"

Look, I run a cafe, I understand basic hygiene, despite what Claire might think. But since all this started the hand washing has been intense.

He nods. "Safety first. It's OK, I'll wait."

And wait he does as I diligently wash my hands for a full twenty seconds, all the while thinking about my Priest waiting patiently out there for me. Or maybe not patiently? Maybe bursting with eagerness for me to get back to him?

Oh who the fuck am I kidding? That man has the patience of a saint.

I return to my doorstep, and pause a moment to enjoy the sight of him, shirt rolled up to his sleeves and hands clasped behind his back as he stares down the eerily quiet street. It’s magic hour and the glow of the sinking sun lights him up beautifully. He turns before I reach him, a beaming smile on his face. He tilts his head thoughtfully, apparently searching hard for signs of.. I don't know, distress maybe?

He nods to himself, a slight smile in his eyes and he turns to head out of the gate, stepping back and letting me walk ahead of him. What a gentleman.

"Checking out my arse, Father?" I toss back to him over my shoulder.

He snorts. "I'm more of a tits man myself."

Damn.

There go my hopes that he's secretly burning a torch for me, mine are barely there, any smaller and you'd need a microscope to find them. I do better with arse men.

But you knew that already.

"Aren't you a happily celibate man?"

"I'm a priest, I'm not blind. I'm merely appreciating the glory of God's creations."

"So you believe in 'look, don't touch'?"

"I believe that you're trying to get me in trouble. And you'll get a crick in your neck if you keep looking back at me like that."

"Not really much of a walk together if I can't look at you, talk to you, or stand anywhere near you."

"These things are sent to try us," he states calmly, completely at ease with the idea that his God has inflicted an Old Testament style plague upon the world. Like humanity as a whole is the villain of the latest gripping installment of His story.

The thought doesn't sit well with me. Admittedly, I probably deserve a little damnation, but the entire human race? Or at least our most vulnerable members? I thought the meak were supposed to inherit the earth?

I stop and turn to face him fully, enjoying the way he starts as though he's bumped into me, even though he's a full two metres away. It’s still not quite dark but the street lights have yet to kick in, so it's a little hard to make out his expression. I glare at him with his arrogant nonchalance. Next he'll be pulling some kind of awful but horribly truthful platitude out of his arse like "It'll pass."

True it may be, but it's hardly the fucking point.

We continue on until I spot a bench in front of me and desperate to actually talk to my friend, sit down at one end. He diligently sits at the other, hands in his lap, as he maintains the appropriate social distance. Seriously, fuck coronavirus.

"How are you?" he asks, looking at me with what I can only assume is deep concern.

"Well my livelihood and best friend's legacy -" there's a flash in his eyes that I almost want to call jealousy "- has been totally fucked by our prime minister, how are you?"

His hand twitches, an awkward jerk that gives me the sense that he'd wanted to reach out to me. He's flexing his fingers, grasping and releasing his knee, suggesting that he's buzzing with energy, full to the brim of untapped potential and excitement that belies his otherwise calm outward demeanour.

"I'm sorry, I know how much Hillary's means to you."

That may be one of my favourite things about my Priest, his willingness to just sit with sadness. Too many people rush you to feeling better, to reassuring you that things aren't actually as bad as you think. Not my Priest. He lets you feel what you feel. And somehow he just knows what people need, whether it's silence or speaking, space or physical comfort.

Not that he can give me that right now.

"It's just a café." I don't know why I'm so quick to deflect, not with him. He knows me too well to buy that.

"You don't have to do that,” his voice just oozes softness, treading carefully as he speaks like he’s dealing with a wild cat. His fingers are drumming on his knee again. “It’s ok to hate how fucked up this is.”

We sit for a minute, him patiently waiting as I try to gather my confused thoughts and feelings into something coherent. “I know that you think this is all about Boo for me.”

“Do I?” he challenges, I frown at him from the corner of my eye.

“Don’t you?”

He shrugs. I once again fumble for words. “Do I want Boo’s cafe to close? Of course not. Do I want what we built and I made into a success to be fucked? Of course not. But that’s not what makes me want to scream. It’s the people who need Chatty Wednesdays, who need someone to talk to, even if they’re just a stranger who bought a cup of tea in the same bloody cafe as them. It’s Joe who’s in every day and now I might never see again because this pestilence could take him. It’s everyone who’s popped in for a sandwich and has nearly cried with relief that I actually have bread because some dipshits panicked and bought it all. It’s just a cafe, but it - it matters.”

He huffs and when I look to him there are tears in his eyes. “Have I ever told you how fucking wonderful you are?”

“Easy there, Father.”

“No, really, you’re fucking brilliant.” He shakes his head. “I hate that I can’t hold you right now. I want to, so much. I want to just wrap my arms around you and bury my face in your neck and breathe you in. Maybe some of your brilliance would rub off on me.”

God I can imagine one of those hugs. They always leave me somewhere between cherished and horny. The feeling of his breath on my neck just feels so delicious, sending desire rippling right through me.

I should probably tell him, but it feels so fucking good that I don’t want him to stop it. And he probably knows the effect it has on me anyway. I kind of think he’s counting on it.

“Wanting to rub off on me, Father? What will the bishop say?”

Sometimes it’s just easier to go for the innuendo than handle all the feelings brimming below the surface.

He laughs. “You wish.”

I watch as he reaches out for me, jerks his hand back before reaching it towards me again.

“I want to hold your hand too,” I finally say, nodding down to his hand and reaching towards him with my own. Not trying to touch him, just to be that bit closer to him.

A silence falls between us. It’s comfortable and easy, although my thoughts are anything but. At last I notice that the sun has set and the street lights are on. Reluctantly I realise that I should go back home now.

My Priest feels it too.

“We should probably-” “I better get -”

We laugh as one and without another word rise to leave.

“Don’t catch the fucking plague,” I say.

“Same to you. Stay well.” And we both go our separate ways.

***

It’s been a day. I’ve been trying my best to keep the cafe going but with half of London seemingly already in self isolation and the other half frightened of people, it feels a little too close to the painful times after Boo died.

I’ve been delivering food to my elderly regulars, trying to do my bit to keep them safe. Taking sandwiches to Joe and chatting with him through the door to make sure he gets his daily interaction along with his sustenance.

It took Joe a long time to answer the door today. It filled my heart with absolute dread, I was on the verge of calling 999 when he finally came to the door, brimming with apologies. I was so relieved to see him that I nearly hugged him in relief.

And to think once upon a time he used to drive me crazy at times with his eager need to chat.

I really need to hold my Priest. I know I can’t. I just need to.

I text him from his bench in his garden asking me to meet me.

“Is everything alright?” he says when he appears, dishevelled and breathless, rushing towards me before remembering and standing back.

“No it’s not, I fucking hate all this,” I burst out, my eyes welling up. “I’m scared and I’m tired and my hands are fucking bleeding from how often I wash them now -” his eyes widen and dart down to my hands, his mouth twisting in distress “- and I just need a fucking hug from my best friend.”

A tear slides down my cheek, I don’t wipe it away, I can’t bear to wash my hands again.

He sits on the other end of the bench.

“I’m holding you right now,” he says. I side eye him. “Don’t give me that look. I’m holding you, don’t you feel how warm my arms are?”

I smile, it’s a nice fantasy, he does have such beautiful arms.

“You’re tucking your head into my neck and your breath tickles, but I don’t say anything, because it feels good to be close to you.”

I love snuggling into that spot.

“One of my hands is on the back of your head so I can run my fingers through your hair. You know that way you like? You always say it soothes you when I do it, your hair is so gorgeously curly that I have to be careful not to tug on it, easing my fingers through it and tugging gently.”

It does feel good, I close my eyes and just let myself get lost in the memories of the last time he did that.

“My other hand is splayed out across your back, rubbing firmly against you in circles where I can feel your muscles tight beneath my fingers. I feel how it relaxes you, as you melt into me, sinking deeper into my arms.”

I sigh, feeling some of the tension I’d been holding disappearing as he talks.

“When your breathing has evened out so I know that you’re deeply relaxed I gently move back and kiss your cheek, grateful that I can be here for you, whenever you need me.”

He stops talking, I take a few moments to just appreciate the deep calm he’s brought to me before opening my eyes and looking at him. He’s smiling but I can see the tension in his jaw that tells me it hurts him as much as me that he can’t do all that for real.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. What else can I say?

***

The Priest is staring at me so intently that I don't know how to feel. There's just so much feeling in his gaze, wonder and joy and this uncomfortable sense that he's trying to imprint me on his heart. It's only been half an hour since lockdown was announced and he's already losing it.

You'd think he'd be used to loneliness by now.

He asked for a video call five minutes ago. I’m not sure he’s actually said a word since we connected yet.

"Are you alright?"

He chuckles, eyes turning sad as he does. "No. No, I'm really not. I finally figure out what I want, just when I can't have it."

He's completely lost me. I don't know how to react, or if I even should. I feel like I'm intruding on a private confession, like he's forgotten he's talking to me instead of his God.

He starts fidgeting, dragging his hands through his hair until it looks as wild as I'm guessing he feels.

"You're too much, you know?" I start at the accusation, not sure where I come into this crisis of his. "You're so… No, it's not you, it's me."

At least it seems like he's confusing himself as much as me.

"When I think of this - this plague taking you from me -" he breaks off, choking up at the thought and grasping at his heart as though in physical pain.

"You don't have to worry about me," I downplay, "pretty sure those human viruses don't affect us robots." I force out a laugh, it's really not funny.

"Don't say that!" he all but snarls at me, "no heartless creature could love like you."

I don't know how to feel about this. He's never seen me in love. I'm not even sure if I've ever been in love, maybe once I thought I could feel something for him, but nothing ever came of it. And sure I still want him, I'm only fucking human, but I know enough now to know sex isn't love. A scoff escapes me, his eyes narrow in response.

"You don't even know, do you? What you do?"

I'm fucking baffled.

That fury that drove him before melts away before my eyes, and he's just so… soft. The way he looks at me is so tender. It's a bit much really.

Hillary squeaks indignantly at me from inside her cage, the best friend being mad at me is one thing, but the fucking guinea pig? Give me a fucking break!

"Look at me." I drag my eyes from the squeaking fluff ball. He lifts his hand up to the screen, I can't see what it's doing, the webcam unable to follow his movements. I kind of wish he was stroking my face the way he sometimes strokes my hair or my arms. A gentle affection that sparks something deep inside me. Not in that way, you dirty bastard.

"You are - everything -" he takes a deep breath "- I need you. I need to touch you."

"I didn't think you were that sort of priest," I tease.

"I don't want to be a priest."

"What?"

"Well, I do, being a priest brings me peace, brings me joy, but that's all meaningless if I can't have you."

He's not one to joke at times like this, but I just can't believe that this is real.

"I think you've had a little too much of the communion wine, Father." I chuckle. "You didn't need to drink it all in your congregation's absence."

"I'm not drunk," he seethes, "I'm in love. With you. If you don't feel the same do me a fucking favour and say it, don't just laugh at me." He glares at me.

My chest is tight, so is my jaw, this is all - is all - it's unbelievable. That's it: unbelievable.

"You don't."

"Fuck you telling me what I feel, you infuriating -"

"Bitch?" I suggest, leaping to the change in subject. "Oooh, or jezebel, that's a good one, biblical too, I know you like that." His hand goes to his face. "Don't touch your face, Father."

He drops his hand, staring at me in disbelief. "Are you fucking serious right now? I'm unburdening my fucking soul, and you're scolding me for touching myself?"

The urge to laugh at his unthinking innuendo bubbles up in me. I try my best to fight it, wanting to be serious even as we have a conversation that feels like it has to be a fucking joke. At least he seems to have realised his mistake, cringing at what just came out of his mouth.

"I just don't want to drive you to touching yourself, I gather your God doesn't like it." He laughs, it sounds ever so slightly deranged. "I mean, personally, I'm pro touching yourself, you might even call it my favourite hobby, but if you want to keep your job, best not."

"I touch myself a lot when I think about you," he replies earnestly.

"Can't stop tearing your hair out at your ridiculous heathen's antics?"

He shakes his head. "I love your antics. Please, hear me." There's so much sincerity in his voice, he's so earnest, that part of me finally acknowledges that he might really mean this, a tiny spark igniting in my heart. "I'm not joking or drunk or having a crisis of faith. I realised that this could be the end, and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't take a chance on this. I want you. I want to kiss you and hold you -” he’s being so romantic and I really do not know how to handle this. People aren’t romantic with me, unless they’re Harry and it’s one part romance to nine parts whining tedium. “- and suck on your tits."

That’s more like it.

"Oh my god," I gasp, feeling equal parts scandalised by his bluntness and confused by the idea of anyone being that interested in my tiny tits. I glance down, involuntarily thrusting my chest forward and shoulders back as I try to see what he apparently does. "They're not much to look at."

"You've got gorgeous tits," he says sincerely, eyes locked on them and lips parted for just a moment. He looks back up at my eyes and frowns. "You do. I see them and just want to -" he breaks off, biting his lip and twisting and rubbing his fingers in midair in a way that has me imagining those fingers on my nipples.

Christ, I'm going to hell for sure.

"If you don't stop all this dirty talk, you'll make me want to get my tits out and touch myself -"

"Please do."

"- it'll be so disappoint- what?"

"I mean -" he fidgets, going to run a hand over his face then remembering all the covid rules last minute and nervously fiddling with his sleeve instead. "Fuck me. I dream about eating you out, you know? I wake up from dreams of fucking you to find my sheets wet."

My mouth is dry. Just how are you meant to react when you hear that your best friend fantasises about you even in his sleep? And I felt guilty for wanking off to thoughts of him. You know, occasionally, when I was feeling desperate or he had been particularly hot one day or it was a Tuesday.

My vibrator was in daily use.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to wake up with a hard on and not touch yourself? To just pray to God to stop messing with you and let you get through the day without looking like a sex-crazed teen who took viagra for a dare?"

I snort with laughter and he gives into the need to scrub at his face.

"Yes, luckily for me you can't tell how wet I get when you lick your lips and I have visions of sitting on your face."

He groans, sounding genuinely pained.

"God, I wish you would.” He’s so breathless, am I really meant to believe that he’s saying all this to me totally sober? “What if the world ends tomorrow and I never get to taste your cunt?"

I can’t believe this is happening, it feels much more likely that I have in fact contracted that killer disease and am lying in my flat, hallucinating through the fever.

"Lucky you believe in an afterlife."

"True, I'm sure they have 69s in heaven."

I’m not sure if they do, I mean, we’re talking about heaven, is God a fan of simultaneous oral? Does God even get to have oral? These are questions I never thought I’d consider, I don’t voice them out loud, of course, I’m a classy lady. "Do you really think so?"

"I don't fucking know!" His hands are back in his hair, raking through it, I wish they were my hands. "I just know that I want to be with you for real before I leave this world. It'd be a fucking nightmare if I got to heaven and found myself incapable of fucking you like you deserve."

"Right?" I’m pretty sure that I’ve already died and gone to heaven.

"Right." He nods, gazing at me like he’s staring right into my soul. Or through my top, something like that.

"So ... what happens now?"

"Well I love you, but I need to end this call. I'm in a very hard position right now." How does this man manage to look bashful as he’s telling me that he’s turned on by his own dirty talk?

"I love you too, for what it's worth.” I figure why not tell him? Chances are this isn’t even real. “Maybe we could help each other out? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I'd rather our first time wasn't awkward video call sex, if it's all the same to you?" he says.

I’m sure I must be pouting but the man I’ve wanted for a year now, the man I’ve always known that I could never be with, has just told me he loved me, filled my head with filth and now he wants me to leave me to deal with that myself? It’s fucking rude. “I mean, one way to handle that would’ve been to hold in all the fucking sex talk.”

“I’m sorry” He does look contrite, but there’s a twinkle in his eye all the same.

“No you’re not, you love that you’ve made me wet.”

“How wet?” His voice has dropped an octave to a barely audible growl.

“Fuck off. You want me to tell you all the things you’ve done to me and all the things I’m going to do to myself then you stay on the phone for that awkward video call sex. Otherwise that’s between me and my vibrator.”

He groans in clear distress, I’ll be honest, I kind of enjoy it. The man has just got me all wound up and doesn’t even want to help me finish. Revenge is sweet.

Both hands are rubbing at his cheeks as he breathes deeply, before pulling them away and glaring at me, like it’s my fault we’re both turned on with nowhere to go. "Coronavirus has a lot to answer for."

"Well if you're determined to leave me to take care of myself alone, I best be going. Wet dreams!"

"I love you, you filthy heathen."

"I love you too, you dirty priest, good night."

He gives me a look that somehow manages to be filled with fire and tenderness, as contradictory as my Hot Priest himself. "Good night," he says at last, sadly reaching out and ending our call.

Right, vibrator time.

Unless.

***

In the history of spectacularly stupid choices I've made, I cannot decide if dragging a suitcase to the house of my best friend who just announced his undying love for - and vivid fantasy life about - me is the best or worst thing I've ever done. I'm not sure what I'd say if the police stop me for making a nonessential trip. And God forbid they look in my suitcase at the collection of lingerie, sex toys and lube in there.

We aren't allowed out of the house, what do you think we'll be doing?

I get to his front door and thank a God that I don't believe in for packing Pam off to her son's for quarantine, there's no way I could do this if she were here.

I don't know if I can do this anyway.

I should've had a drink first, though I'm glad that I didn't.

I have a momentary panic at the thought of having sex with real feelings, would that be making love? My throat is closing up and I'm finding it hard to breathe. Maybe I best go home, I might be coming down with coronavirus.

My phone rings, I pull it out and answer it before stopping to think.

"What are you doing right now?" my Priest asks.

Shit.

"I thought we weren't doing that?" I deflect, "but I can get out my vibrator if I need it?"

"Are you outside my house?"

I look up, he's staring at me out of the window, disbelief and joy spread across his handsome face. I nod, and he nods back.

"Come to your door," I say then hang up.

My heart is pounding, I'm highly aware that this is no ordinary hook up, this is the start of something… Something extraordinary. I take a deep breath, trying to draw in the courage to make this leap into the unknown, but it does little to calm my jitters. This is my Priest, my world, if I fuck this up - he'll be there to catch me.

I don't know how I know this, just that I do. Would you look at that? He's made me a believer.

I hear the jingle of keys, the thunk of the lock twisting, the creak of the handle.

I'm ready for this, for him, for love.

Now fuck off, this is private.

#fleabag #fleabag fic #fleabag x the priest #fleabag fanfic #katie dub writes #it'll pass

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sunaddicted · 5 years

Text

Bond meets the new 007

(Because yes. Yes, something fresh and new in this fucking franchise and I hope that Lashana gets to stay as 007 once the movie is over because this is the only casting I will accept. I mean, I have hated every single name that's been thrown around in the past few years; I was literally dreading the casting and if Lashana is it, I'm gonna be e-fucking-lated ok??? I was writing the penultimate issue of my omega!Bond series but this takes precedence)

Bond, like the asshat that he is, immediately perks up and decides that he needs to test the new 007 because he can't stand the idea of being pushed aside

He's a cantankerous kid

M is so done with him and sits behind Q's station with a lapful of popcorn so he can watch the new 007 kick Bond's stupid old ass

As soon as he sees that the new 007 is a woman he tries the seduction(TM) to prove that she's easily distracted (the hypocrite) and he's 100% shocked when she flirts with Madeline. And Moneypenny. And literally every single woman she walks past

(He's a little awestruck but he won't admit it to anyone but Felix who's just... not in the mood to be dragged into another insane adventure with Bond: he still remembers how the last time went. Thank u, next)

So, he fails to distract her

And decides he will go back to London to show everyone that without him, the agency can't stand - yes, he will graciously come and save your ass since the new 007 apparently isn't capable

Obviously, the first person he harasses in there is Q but he's not having it because 1) the bastard stole another fucking car 2) he left champagne behind - champagne is supposed to be shared, what the hell 3) his pining has turned into bitterness 4) moneypenny has reminded him daily of how much of an asshole Bond is to make sure he wouldn't fall at the man's feet as soon as he came back

"Have you missed your favourite agent?" *wink wink*

"Yes" *turns towards the new 007 and beams at her when she gives him all of her equipment, stored appropriately in the case*

Bond dies a little inside

(He dies a lot more inside when he discovers that he's been called back just because the terrorist du jour is his brother - what the fuck: what's with prisoners escaping from mi6???)

Now not only he has to prove to M that he's a man of poor choices but he also needs to win Q back because excuse you miss 007, that's his emotional support Quartermaster and he's not into sharing

Reluctantly Bond plays nice

And along the way he starts admiring the new 007 because she's a b a d a s s - she reminds him of himself at her age, minus the manpain(TM) and the pigheadedness

I mean, not only she's hot but she's also deadly, fast, drives like she belongs into a f1 championship and her quips are almost as bad and cheesy as his and he's got to admire that: he made an entire career on sheer luck and stupid one liners

Q starts to soften a little when he sees that Bond treats 007 with the respect and professionalism she deserves (he can't wait to forgive the bastard ok??? It feels wrong to be forever pissed with him and he wants to go back to crushing hopelessly on the man)

Bond immediately laps that up because yeah, she's good and he actually likes her but Q is still his ok? Ok. Glad that we've cleared that up

You know what? Maybe she has some advice to win him back

"Bring back your fucking equipment, stop stealing cars and running after every skirt you see - his standards are that low"

(Of course he's not pleased at any of that and not because he can't do it but because stopping those behaviours feels like having to give up his 007 persona for good and he's been an agent for the better part of his adult life, he doesn't know how to be civilian)

She understands because she can't imagine being a civilian either but he's got the opportunity and he has to take it - for himself; for the colleagues who couldn't; for her too because she likes the idea that if she doesn't die, there is the proof somewhere in the world of another agent who managed to enjoy their well-earned retirement

And you know what? For once, he fucking gets it: he's been waiting his whole career to die and he didn't and he doesn't know what to do with that - with the life that desperately clung to him and he doesn't want to be the next Silva just because he doesn't know for sure that he can let go and be happy because nobody else before him got to retirement age

So they work well together and they bond and when Bloefeld is obliterated for good, he's proud to call her 007 in front of the whole mi6

And she's proud to call him her personal quartermaster because he's fucking good and it makes no sense for him to waste his knowledge

Also, she's THE wingwoman(TM) and gives Bond the opportunity to romance Q day after day until his stupid ass is forgiven

The end

#james bond #007 #lashana lynch #bond 25 #00q #q #quartermaster #bond squad #mi6 squad #i'm pumped

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mi6-cafe · 5 years

Photo

The third week of writing for LDWS participants has come to a close. Now it’s time for the next bit of the competition: reading and voting!

prompt: resurrection Word count: 250 Challenge: Write a drabble with an acrostic format spelling out ‘resurrection.’ (First word of first paragraph must start with r, first word of second paragraph must start with e, and so on).

Voters–after you read, check out this form to vote for your top three drabbles! You can also leave anonymous feedback for the writers!

Who can vote? Anyone who’s read the drabbles! Yes, that includes YOU!

Writers–you may also vote, but we do ask that you vote for three drabbles other than your own.

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Remember, readers–it’s up to YOU to decide who will wind up on top at the end of the competition!

Drabbles are under the read-more:

Title: Mourning Author: sunaddicted Rating: G Warnings: emotional h/c, mild angst Summary: the fact that it's not real doesn't make it hurt any less

"Roses, really?"

Exhaling a heavy sigh didn't alleviate his oncoming migraine "They were on sale" Q shrugged.

"Seriously?"

"Uh.. yes" had James really expected him to splurge on flowers for a fake grave? It wasn't like they wouldn't wilt anyway.

"Roses are romantic, Q - for dinners and dates, not for funerals"

"Resurrections are romantic though, aren't they?"

Except for the fact that James hadn't really died: it had all been part of a plan to make some people believe that they wouldn't have to worry anymore about him hunting them down - and Q had been crucial to the plan, there for every step of it. Still, he seemed... upset? "Are you okay?"

Candles peeked amidst the roses - the expensive and scented kind that Q lit up only to treat himself after long and hard missions; he focused on them, wondering about which of their colleagues had spent so much on a fake death "Sure"

That tone of voice screamed the contrary "Q..."

"I don't want to talk about it" Q sighed "You're fine. You're home"

"Of course I'm home" James drew Q against his chest, gently enveloped him in his arms "I'll always come back" faked or not, resurrection was his specialty afterall.

Nodding was the only answer Q could give at those reassuring words: one day that grave would be full; one day that nightmare would be too real; one day he wouldn't buy discounted roses to cry on as he mourned the man he loved. And it hurt.

Title: Reinvention Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: Introspection, Mildly fluffy Summary: Living long enough means changes

Rising through layers of sleep, Bond opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight reaching warm fingers through the drapes.

Easing himself onto his back and finding his left arm trapped under a lithely muscled and sleep warm body was a familiar experience now.

Sleep was becoming easier, after years of subsisting on brief naps on missions and nightmares when not.

Until six weeks ago, he had never imagined he would be this contented. He hadn't been when an initially minor injury had proven more debillitating than it had seemed. The laceration across his palm had severed tendons and though surgery had repaired it, the tendons were shorter and stiffer and he couldn't use the hand to the degree field work required.

Retirement from 00 status was his only option. He had fought it but he was a realist and knew the department could not risk delicate missions on an agent who couldn't handle the physical tasks required.

Resurrection, he had once said, was his hobby. Reinvention might have been more accurate.

Eventually he had accepted the position as head of testing and training.

Considering his years of experience, it was an excellent fit.

This morning would be the first of his new career.

In two hours he would be Commander Bond, department head. It was time to begin the day. He nudged Q.

One green eye opened and a frown crossed Q's face. “Second thoughts?”

“None. Just starting the day properly.” They were fifteen minutes late with smug smiles.

Title: Resurrection Hopes Warnings: No warnings apply Tags: established relationship

Author: Susspencer

Returning to what was home to me, Mi6, my family, friends, the question was would they welcome me?

Everything was different. Everything was the same.

Stiff upper lip and I stood ready for the Inquisition before me. Where have you been? Why didn't you contact us, or at least me? Why did you wait to come back?

Unscathed by wounds. Unhurt by blame. Unmoved by their feigned sorrow. Unwilling to forgive, yet.

Ready to regain my title again, reclaim my license to kill. Would they relinquish their grip on it? And reinstate me.

Rumbling in my soul as I saw your face. Reasoning within myself, what do I tell you? Those eyes as they peered through your lenses.

Eyes full of compassion and love still there, hung with a hurt, so deep, that it peers into corners unseen in forever.

Cheer bubbles in my chest, in that empty place, that was barely holding on to the memory of your face.

Time keeps ticking as I wait to hear.

Is it reinstatement or thank you for your service? I need to be the hero that you need me to be.

Oh, my Q just come stand near, and chase away my fear. I am nothing without you. It’s only as we that we can save the world.

Nay or yeah, it doesn't matter, if I can just reach out and touch. The only thing I need to resurrect is us. To be with you, Q, my dear, you are my life.

Title: One hope... Author: ato Warnings: none Summary: I wait.

Regret is the worst emotion. Unprofessional, M would have said. Inevitable feels more on point.

Eleven o’clock in a sterile waiting room, unsure of basic questions of life and death, I think of words not spoken. Looks shared, but not acted on.

So clear in my mind... all my opportunities. Over comms. In the branch. Heading out at the end of the day in the same direction, only to turn away. Avoid temptation. Turn away from him and toward the cold safety of solitude.

Useless now to imagine "what if?" How I might have changed his sadness (and mine) by acknowledging what I knew was there, but feared reaching for.

Resurrection is my hobby.

Resurrection is my curse.

Even so, I wait in an antiseptic room, hoping against hope that Q will follow my example.

Come back from the dead. The presumed dead. Back from the missing, then found (injured... beaten). Back from the shadows and pain and who-gives-a-fuck-why-should-I?

To the work. To the family that isn't family. To the battles and camaraderie and late hours, exhausted and triumphant. To the old agent who wants another shot. A chance to say, "I just need one thing," and have him know it's him.

I sit — cold, bone-tired, frightened for perhaps the first time in years — indulging in a hope.

One hope.

No. One need. For a snarky, willful boffin to fight his way back from the deep, dark dreamlessness, rise up, open his bright, clever eyes… and say yes.

Title: Duck Psychotic

Author: Venstar

Warnings: None

Summary: Living is hard. Resurrection is even harder

Resurrection was a little known part of the Quartermaster’s job. It was a demanding procedure, tricky even. He’d had quite a few spectacular and dangerous results. Some agents weren’t meant to come back, some were never the same again and some...had to be destroyed.

Except for Bond. He took to resurrection like a psychotic duck to water. There wasn’t anything that he had been through that Q couldn’t drag him back from. “I’m tired Moneypenny. He’s literally taking years off my life.”

“Someone has to deal with him,” Moneypenny said. “And besides, you love seeing those blue eyes see YOU for the first time, every time you bring him back.”

Unfortunately, Moneypenny was correct. Q coughed. There was something terribly enchanting about an assassin with wonder in his eyes when he spotted Q.

“Remind me why you’re complaining?” Moneypenny asked.

“Remind me why I like you?” Q sighed out through his nose.

“Extraction team incoming,” Moneypenny said pressing her earpiece.

“Can’t wait.”

Terrible things happened every day. It was always a terrible day when 007’s body was brought into his Necro room, where the laborious process of resurrecting an agent took its toll on Q. One more year was taken from his life.

“I know you,” Bond’s voice rough when he finally woke. His face lax and sleepy, his eyes tracking Q’s every move.

“Of course you do, fool.”

Now came the time Q’s strength would leave him and Bond would stay, keeping him company, sharing tea from a Scrabble mug.

Title: Reboot

Author: kiddohno

Warnings: none

Summary: Everyone needs a hobby.

Rebooting… | | |

Entering non-interactive start-up... [OK]

Switching to guest configuration... [OK]

User: 007 Password: ************

Reading biometrics... [OK]

root@LAPTOP-Quartermaster$: cd ~/Programs gcc bond.c

ENTER

Connection failed. Unable to find node. Discarding circuit.

Try again? Y/N: y

Initializing. Resolving... Connection established. Downloading files...

On screen, hundreds of points appeared over a graphical world map. Some were tied together with pixelated lines of colour, highlighting connections between them, and each one linked to relevant documents in a massive repository of data and evidence. This was everything that Q had found chasing down what was left of SPECTRE, alone, after James had gone. He’d foolishly thought that taking out Blofeld would be the end of the whole organization. Instead, the power vacuum had only served to revive the criminal network with added fervor. Q had been methodologically tracking the formation of new splinter groups and taking down cells all around the world, and in doing so he had drawn too much attention to himself.

Now that he was missing and presumed dead, James knew that everything Q had done was to protect him. As long as any part of SPECTRE survived, there was the risk that it would target James Bond. Q had done this so that he could retire in peace. And when Q couldn’t continue his work, for whatever reason, he had made sure that his laptop and a short note found their way to James. ‘007,’ the note read, ‘You know the password-- we all need a hobby.’

Title: Azalea's First Bloom Warning: Major Character Death Summary: Resurrection is never guaranteed (but she will probably come back to haunt me).

Author: GwyllionDream

R’s instructions blared over his mobile, but Bond was much too panicked to comprehend them. His hands shook. His mind raced. Despite all of his years as an agent, this was the worst scenario he had ever encountered.

Every manual Bond had studied proved useless in this situation.

“Stop and listen to me,” R’s voice demanded. “Four compressions, followed by one breath.”

Unsure of himself, Bond resumed his efforts. His palms pushed on the small chest beneath him, but she was… gone.

“Repeat it with me,” R said, her voice cracking with despair. “One, two, three, four, breathe….”

“R! This isn’t working,” Bond shouted. “Q will be home any minute.”

Even from halfway across the city, R’s gasp of sympathy reached Bond.

Crimson petals covered the countertop. Bond had clipped the azaleas himself, hoping to bring some spring cheer into Q’s flat. Water dripped to the floor from the upended vase. Each falling drop reminded Bond of the pulsing heartbeat of life that now slipped away.

The old girl had really done it this time.

“I don’t want you to lose her,” R cried. “You need to keep going!”

“One, two, three, four,” Bond counted as he pushed on her fragile chest. He pressed his mouth to hers and breathed, but nothing worked. Bond sobbed so loudly that he didn’t hear Q enter the flat, or his footsteps as he crossed the kitchen floor.

“No!!!” Q let out a bloodcurdling scream when he saw Bond crouched over Pampuria’s lifeless body.

Title: Home Again Author: solarmorrigan Summary: Bond's priorities have shifted over time, just a little. Warnings: None.

Really, Bond had stopped enjoying the parties a long time ago.

Events like the ones he often infiltrated were filled people who wanted.

Someone was always wanting for his attention, always fawning and smarming and insinuating themselves into his space.

Unctuous in the extreme, they were unpleasant and false.

Repeatedly, though, Bond catered to them, listened to and flattered them. Whatever it took to gain their confidence, their secrets, their assistance – whatever they had to offer.

Realistically, it was the easiest way to get the job done.

Even so, the thrill of successful falsehoods had worn thin.

Could he do it another way? Were there options that didn’t involve the suppression of his every instinct and desire to the point where he felt more like a ghost watching his own animated body interact with others? Likely. And likely, they were higher risk.

The mission came first, though. Every time. And Bond would kill himself, body and soul, to complete the mission. Besides that, a lower risk meant a higher chance he could come home.

It wasn’t until Bond was on his way to that home that he began to feel himself again.

Only when he reached home did it really feel like he began to inhabit his own body again.

Not until he had Q in his arms, held against him, wrapped around him, grounding him and reminding him of who he was and who he was allowed to be, did Bond really feel like he’d come alive again.

Title: Lost and Found

Author: solitaryjane

Warnings: none

Summary: This time, it's Q who's been declared dead.

“Really, Bond?” Q sighed. “It hadn't even been a day.”

Each of the safehouse’s security measures had been breached, starting from the foyer all the way to the bedroom. Bond stood just inside the walk-in closet, where the entrance to the panic room was, and Q in front of it, looking cross.

Something could be said of the irony of being caught by someone prone to disappearing while trying to disappear. Q sighed again. So much for his foolproof plan. And it was foolproof, mind you, with a perfectly staged attack and a perfectly convincing corpse. He wasn't even going to be gone that long – maybe a few weeks – and then he’d be back. It would be no worse than what a certain double-oh liked to pull on a regular basis. Everything was going swimmingly according to plan.

Until now.

“R found some discrepancies,” Bond shrugged. “Thought I’d follow them.”

“Right, of course,” Q spat. He really should’ve specifically locked R out beforehand. It would've probably spared him the indignity of being found – alive – when barely 24 hours had passed.

Even with minimal lighting he could see the twinkle in Bond’s eyes, exuding mirth and arrogance. Q wanted to kill him.

“Care to explain?” Bond asked.

“To you? Not particularly.”

“I promise I can help.”

“Oh, suddenly an expert in international hacking ploys, are we?”

“No,” Bond smirked. “But luckily I know someone who is, and who, despite his efforts, won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

10)

Title: Faith

Author: Iambid/Flantastic

Warnings: None

Summary: Q’s faith in him is everything

Returning from missions has never been easy for James. There is a soulless feeling that comes with killing. A deadening inside that is as difficult to overcome as it is insidious. For years it festered. Damaging James, slowly destroying him from the inside.

Even though Q has never realised it, from the moment they first fell into bed together, there is something he does that can bring James back to the land of the living in an instant.

Something so simple and he doesn’t even have a clue.

Understanding came slowly to James at first. The first time that Q did it he didn’t know what to think but now he craves it.

Relishes it.

Returning home, it is Q naked in their bed, that resurrects him.

Even just sleeping, Q curls into James’s arms like their bed is the safest place in the world. He allows James to hold him. Protect him.

Caress him.

The times that James has killed are eclipsed by the moments that Q trusts him at his most vulnerable. Nude. Sleeping.

It is heady. This trusting intimacy.

Only James will never tell him. It is the spontaneity of Q stripping off after a long day’s work, of him slipping into their bed, resting his head on James’s shoulder and holding onto him so tightly, that makes James’s heart beat again. If Q realised, if it was a deliberate act, it wouldn’t be the same.

Nothing brings James back to life in quite the same way.

11)

Title: Turnabout is Fair Play

Author: beaubete

Warnings: none

Summary: Patience is a virtue and Bond is a sinner.

Really, he should have expected it. It was inevitable, though tell that to Q's empty flat at three in the morning with birdsong out the window and a funeral in Bond's heart.

Even the cats join him for long, meandering rambles through the kitchen as though they don't quite know what to do with themselves. None of them do.

Surely Q will be back soon. Surely Sunday he'll be at the door with a takeaway. Surely Monday he'll be back for his yoga mat. Surely Tuesday.

Uncomfortable silence rules the flat; since that first confession, they've been quietly together, slipped into a relationship like falling into a warm bath.

Romance, unanticipated as it was, has become the new normal, and this is of course why Q'll be coming back. It wouldn't be fair to suddenly get everything he's ever wanted only to lose it now.

Righteous anger sweeps his shoulders. After everything, doesn't he deserve happiness? Doesn't he--

Except if anyone deserved to lose peace, it's him. Chills trip up the back of his neck.

Could this be his own fault?

The thought has haunted him since their first kisses, faces drowned and ghostly in the corners of his vision. It was always a possibility. A likelihood.

It isn't acceptable. His retirement was meant to make them safe; it never occurred that he'd find himself on the other side of the comms worrying. He ought to let Mallory handle it.

Ought to trust the system.

No. He fetches his pistol.

12)

Title: Something of a Surprise

Author: melynen

Warnings: none

Summary: Q’s in the field and things get a little out of hand.

Resurrection being a hobby of James, Q has long since stopped holding his breath every time his lover pulls off one of his disappearing acts. He still fears for his life, yes, but he also trusts James to return to him.

Especially now that he has practically moved in to Q’s flat.

So it’s something of a surprise that this time, it is not James who disappears but Q.

Usually Q wouldn’t be in the field, but sometimes, concessions must be made, and this is one of those times. A supposedly easy mission quickly turns into anything but, and Q has barely time to feel the gunshot that takes him down.

Recovery is not the easiest or the quickest, and he’s told that on the way back to London his heart really did stop beating; waking up at Medical, surrounded by his nearest and dearest, he can only be happy it didn’t stick.

”Rubbed off on you, have I?” James grins, relieved.

Eve, sitting next him, snorts inelegantly. Q can see that she wants to say something, but mercifully she keeps quiet.

”Could be,” Q allows. ”Though I’d really rather not do this again, if you won’t terribly mind.”

”Too right you won’t,” says Eve.

”I certainly won’t mind,” James says. ”For a while there…” he pauses, but Q can easily hear what was left unsaid.

Out loud, Q says nothing, but he does squeeze the hand holding his.

Neither of them speaks again, but their clasped hands say everything.

13)

Title: Blood and Fire

Author: azure7539arts

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Summary: Bond wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

“Run!”

Every time he tried to close his eyes, the image of Q’s blazing gaze kept flashing deep in the recesses of his mind.

Smoke had been billowing from the damaged sites, the sound of people trapped and screaming only second to the thick stench of fresh blood that had been permeating through the air. They had been under attack. Again.

Up until that moment, Bond had never allowed himself to even think about exactly just how important Q was in his life. And the second he had heard Q’s sharp, unwavering order for him to go after the assailants instead of staying back in the wreckage to help, Bond had realized that he was going to regret it.

Running had always been his forte, he had told himself.

Running should’ve been easy because he had been doing it his entire life.

Even so… in that singular moment with him staring wide-eyed at the half of Q’s face that had been drenched in free-flowing blood from a gash somewhere above his eyebrow, Bond had never been more reluctant to leave.

“Care for some tea?”

To be fair, Bond hadn’t needed to ask to know that Q would say yes before sitting up straight and murmuring “finally!” under his breath. “How is it?” He sat down, watching Q sip at his drink.

“It’s good,” Q mumbled, seemingly more relaxed. “Just how I take it.”

“Of course.” Bond quirked a small smirk.

No, he wasn’t going to make another mistake this time.

Thank you to our amazing drabble writers for bringing their drabbles to life this week, especially since this was the most difficult challenge yet.

To our amazing readers, you can help this competition by going here to vote on your top three drabbles. You may also leave anonymous feedback for one or more drabbles.

Let’s vote!

#00Q #00qldws #ldws

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chockfullofsecrets · 5 years

Text

Skyfall: Coercion

Rating: Gen

Summary: James Bond is assigned to escort his Quartermaster home, whatever it takes.

Wordcount: 1780

Everyone at MI6 was some sort of an idiot. It was, in fact, one of the tacit job requirements. But as James Bond stalked down the hall towards the technology branch of the building, he decided that Q was possibly the biggest idiot of them all.

After the… incident had been wrapped up, the new M had requested that Q fix the security systems as soon as possible. When he had time, of course; everyone had run themselves ragged in the past few weeks.

No one was expecting Q to finish the week’s work and then lock himself in his office, tapping furiously at his computer without rest. And that had been three days ago. Moneypenny had brought the problem to his attention (more accurately, she had thoroughly scolded one of the world’s most dangerous agents for not noticing sooner) and sent him to drag the quartermaster out by force if necessary.

When he swiftly entered the office (locks were more of a polite request than anything else where spies were involved, and Bond wasn’t known for his subtlety), he he found his quartermaster disheveled and weary. Q didn’t even look up. “Double-0-Seven. I’m a bit busy right now.”

“As you’ve been for the past few days. At least you’ve been eating, I suppose.”

Q blinked at the sandwich on his desk in surprise and then jerked back to work. “Eve brought it, I think.” There was a long pause while he took a sip of coffee and resumed his frantic typing. “I’m sure it would have been delicious if I’d tried it.”

Bond took a step forward, fixing the technician with a stare that would have been impressive if he’d bothered to look up. “Look, Q. You’ve been at it for three bloody days. Mallory is concerned. Moneypenny made you food. I’ve been assigned to make sure you’re safely at your apartment by sundown.” Another long pause. “Let’s go. You need your rest.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“The adult in the room, of course. I can afford to lose a little sleep now and then; I’m almost twice as old as you.”

Q finally looked up, and the black circles underneath his eyes were obvious even behind his glasses. “That’s the point. I screwed up. Silva got into the network, and I’m going to make sure it never happens again. No one else should be able to take advantage of me being such a child.” The word was tinged with bitter sarcasm. “I’m not leaving till I’ve finished, so you might as well go.”

He turned back to his work with a sense of finality, but Bond simply walked around the desk to stand behind Q’s chair, smirking insufferably. If Q had seen the expression, it would have given him considerable pause. That smirk meant trouble, usually for the other person involved. “You know, you’re very tense when you’re working – perhaps you should get a better chair? If I can’t convince you to take a break, maybe I can at least help you relax a little.”

Being much more accustomed to seduction and coercion than anything resembling normal social interaction, Bond had no qualms about distracting Q by massaging his shoulders.

He definitely didn’t expect the quartermaster to hunch his shoulders up to his ears and let out a noise that sounded disturbingly like a squeak. “Q? Are you all right?”

Q’s hands wavered over the keyboard as he tried to regain his composure. “No, no I’m not, just stahahahp!” The spy squeezed experimentally, eliciting another strong reaction – wait, was that a smile?

Interesting.

He wriggled his fingers as much as possible while extracting them, and the grin twitched onto Q’s features again. “Leave me alone; I’m trying to work.” He went back to his typing, trying to ignore him.

“You’ve already finished your work. Take a break.”

“You can’t make me.”

Bond snorted inelegantly, and that, of all things, made Q twist around to stare at him. “What was that for?”

“You sound like a five-year-old. One that needs to go to bed. Grow up, Q.”

Q’s eyes widened, and then his face went completely blank. He turned back to his desk, posture ramrod straight. Oh. Oh. That’s what this whole thing was about, then. Q was trying to prove that he was mature and responsible and able to fix his own problems, and – oh hell, Bond had just told him to grow up… this would be an excellent time to abort the mission.

But the fact still remained that Q needed to rest, and he was the one that would have to coerce him into it.

Bond was dangerously close to hauling the recalcitrant quartermaster out of his chair and dragging him out of there, but that seemed far too dramatic. Well. The tickling seemed to distract him if nothing else, so why not?

Stepping close behind Q’s chair, he put his hands back on the younger man’s shoulders and squeezed repeatedly. Q flailed and curled in on himself, almost knocking his computer off the desk. “Stahppit! I swear I’m going to -”

The spy in question stroked experimentally at the base of Q’s neck, and the computer genius’ threat dissolved into helpless laughter. “Ah! Wahahait, dohon’t! Stop!”

Bond simply raised an eyebrow. “Don’t stop?”

“I didn’t sahahay-” He tried to move away, but the torturing fingers just followed him.

“Of course you did. Are you accusing me of misinterpretation?”

“Yehehes! I mean – no!” Q seemed to be recovering from the initial onslaught, so Bond decided to change tactics. Leaning against the back of the chair to ensure that it couldn’t move, he ran fingers lightly over Q’s sides.

The quartermaster howled with laughter, trying desperately to get away, but he was trapped between desk and chair with no escape.

“Feeling trapped by your work? I suppose it happens to everyone,” Bond deadpanned, digging into the tender spaces between ribs. Q squirmed helplessly, trying to pry Bond’s hands away and lash out behind him at the same time.

“Get… haha… get the hell – dahahamnit!”

“Such bad language, Q. I thought you were mature.”

Q finally managed to shove the chair backwards, pushing Bond’s hands away. “Really.”

“Of course. Usually you’re much more sensible than that.”

Q’s eyes narrowed. And yeah, maybe he was laying it on a bit thick. But that was the point.

“Seriously? Now you think I’m mature. And sensible. Next thing I know, you’ll be admitting that I’m over the bloody drinking age. “

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. Through you do act over your age, you’re still just a teenager.”

“What! Where did you get that from?”

“Oh, I know these things.” Bond gave him his best supercilious eyebrow lift, and Q started to laugh again, suddenly in a good mood.

“I’m twenty-five, you idiot.”

“Really? As old as that?”

“Yes, Double-O-Seven. And twenty-five-year-olds need to work.” He started to roll back over to his desk, but Bond was having none of it. Hoping to shock Q a bit, he grabbed the chair and all but flung it to the opposite corner of the room. Then, with only a bit of hesitation, he started tickling Q again, aiming for a spot just under his arms.

Q shrieked and curled into a ball, laughing hysterically. He seemed to be attempting to plea for mercy, but couldn’t get the words out.

“So,” Bond started conversationally. “You seem to be under quite a lot of duress just now.”

“Whehere – is this go-hahaha…”

And no one would blame you if you decided to submit to my demands. After all, I did use one of the worst forms of torture on you.”

“What?”

He slowed his assault to a light drumming of fingers. “My demand being that you come with me. Immediately.”

“But… I’m not… done.”

“Or I could keep going -”

No, wait, fine! I’ll go.”

The spy backed off, smirk firmly in place. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I hate you. Really. You know that?” Then Q grinned. “So much for the torture resistance seminar, then.”

“That thing is bloody useless, and everyone knows it.”

“Just give me a moment to get my stuff, yeah?” Q paused, looking awkwardly around the room. “You’re going to let me finish sometime, right?”

“Why not? Look, Q. The security breach wasn’t completely your fault, and you’re not the only one who would have fallen for it. So you don’t need to half kill yourself trying to fix it.”

Q sighed, letting himself sag tiredly against his desk. “This is still absolutely rich coming from you.”

Bond couldn’t help grinning at that; it was true and he knew it. “Don’t push your luck, or I may have to resort to torture again.”

“You wouldn’t dare. You need me to fix your technology.”

“I don’t have problems with technology.”

“Really.”

As if on cue, Bond’s phone began to ring. They both stared at the device in horror.

“What the hell is that?” Q scowled. Bond closed his eyes and sighed.

“When the sky FALLS…,” the phone trilled.

“Some girl in public relations with too much bloody time on her hands. She composed it after the Skyfall incident and tried to pass it to me through Moneypenny, of all people. It was... messy.”

When it crum-BLES… “Why’s it on your phone?”

“Moneypenny. And possibly M.”

“No, why’s it still on there? Can’t you get it off?”

“I would.” Bond’s features reached a whole new level of uncomfortable blankness. “I just didn’t want to shoot the phone.”

“… shoot the phone.” There was an ominous silence, broken only by a shrieked “you may have my number, BUT YOU’LL NEVER HAVE MY HEART!!!”

“Oh hell – give me the phone. Before I shoot you.” Q snatched it, pressed a few buttons, and the held-out notes of the chorus dragged to a pathetic halt. He did a bit more fiddling and then shoved the device back at the older man. “There. Got rid of it, stuck one of the preprogrammed ones on there… I have lifted a great evil from the world.”

The spy inclined his head in thanks, only half joking. Then the phone buzzed. “I should probably take that.” Q leaned back against the desk and waited. “Hmm… yes, the package is en route. No complications… no it wasn’t hard.” Bond abruptly hung up. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, so I’m a package now? Isn’t that a bit rude?”

“Don’t worry. You’ve got first class shipping.” Q barely had time to roll his eyes before Bond propelled him out the door. “Let’s practice some stealth tactics, shall we? Packages don’t talk.”

They were bickering all the way out of the building.

#james bond #skyfall #chocfic

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one-of-us-blog · 6 years

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Die Another Day (2002)

Today Drew is forced to watch and recap 2002’s Die Another Day, the twentieth James Bond adventure. Bond is captured and tortured by some bad guys, and now 007 is out for revenge! Can Bond handle going rogue, or will MI6 shut down his quest for vengeance before it can even begin? Will Bond find those responsible for his imprisonment? Why is it so sunny in here?

Keep reading to find out…

Eli, I loved your last two recaps so much! I know there was a stretch of less-than-stellar episodes for you to wade through, but I’m so glad you enjoyed these last two romps! I still can’t believe how close you are to the end of the show, but, speaking of, I’m close to the end of an era myself. This is the final Bond film before the big reboot, and it’s crazy to think of how far we’ve come over the course of this blog! I can’t stand it anymore, the anticipation has me way too excited to lay out any other preamble!

Buttocks tight!

Screenplay by Neal Purvis & Robert Wade, film directed by Lee Tamahori

We start with a shockingly three-dimensional gun barrel sequence, and then we jump to the coast of Pukch’ŏng County, North Korea. Bond, alongside two of his fellow MI6 agents, surf into North Korea and attract the attention of a helicopter, which they quickly commandeer. This helicopter was bound for the headquarters of Colonel Tan-Sun Moon (Will Yun Lee), located in the Korean demilitarized zone, and Bond soon arrives after placing some explosives in a suitcase full of diamonds that the helicopter’s original passenger was transporting. Just to give you an idea of how comically evil a villain Moon is going to be, the first time we see him he’s beating up his anger management therapist for lecturing him. Bond is greeted at Moon’s HQ by the surly Zao, who surreptitiously snaps a pic of 007 when he arrives. Bond and Moon meet, and it’s really driven home that Moon is a rude, crude dude with a bad attitude when it’s revealed he’s trading weapons for African blood diamonds. Moon shows off the weapons Bond’s supposed to get for the blood diamonds, but turns out Zao wasn’t taking Bond’s picture just so he could add it to his scrapbook. He’s done a background check on 007, and since Bond is the worst secret agent in the world it doesn’t take any time at all for Zao to inform Moon of Bond’s true identity. Moon blows up Bond’s helicopter, but he’s distracted by a call from his daddy, General Moon (Kenneth Tsang). He leaves the killing of Bond to Zao while he scrambles to hide all the illegal weapons he’s got in the demilitarized zone before his dad finds them and he gets grounded. Thinking, “Why the hell not?” Bond triggers the explosive in the suitcase full of diamonds, causing and explosion that allows him to escape and results in Zao getting a high-velocity diamond facial. Bond escapes on one of Moon’s hovercrafts (why not) and blows up most of his headquarters before chasing after Moon as he races across the mine-laced demilitarized zone. There’s a lot of shooting, some mines get blown up and Moon fires off a flamethrower for no good reason before Bond and Moon end up on the same hovercraft and Bond kills Moon by driving the hovercraft off a waterfall. Moon’s zaddy arrives, and he’s none too pleased about his dumb kid getting killed.

General Moon has Bond waterboarded while we finally head to the opening credits. This credits sequence is… troubling. Madonna sings out the mediocre techno ballad “Die Another Day” while we’re treated to scenes of Bond being brutally tortured interspersed with CGI ladies comprised of ice, fire and electricity dance around and some scorpions just kind of crawl around and mind their own business. Also diamonds. It’s a mess, and honestly the dime-store techno bassline makes it a little hard for me to get too invested in the vignettes of Bond being beaten and sodomoized with a hot poker by a sexy Korean woman in jackboots.

After what feels like a lifetime this bit is finally over, and a bearded, bedraggled Bond is brought before General Moon. Bond has managed not to break in all the time he’s been held here, and Moon lets him know it’s time for him to go. Bond is taken to a bridge where it seems he’s going to be shot, but then Moon’s goons lower their weapons and we find out this is all actually a prisoner exchange. Bond is being traded for the bedazzled Zao, and the two share pleasantries while they make their way back to their respective governments. On the British side, Bond is greeted by Damian Falco (Michael Madsen) from the NSA and…oh, my stars and garters, could it really be? Dare I dream?

That’s right, folks, Charles Robinson is back, babey!!! And not a moment too soon! I have no doubt he singlehandedly wrestled Zao into custody after Bond was done bonering everything up. Charles Robinson didn’t become the most valuable man in MI6 by being reckless, and he leaves nothing to chance. He has Bond sedated so that he can be checked for any kind of biological weapons. M, no doubt having met with Charles Robinson to mine his formidable intellect, goes to meet with Bond through a sheet of glass. M doesn’t mince words and lets Bond know that if she’d had her druthers he’d still be getting dicked by scorpions back in North Korea. She thinks they paid too high a price for Bond’s freedom by letting Zao go, but Bond didn’t ask to be traded and couldn’t kill himself because he… I don’t know, cut out? ripped out? his cyanide capsule years ago.

M explains that an American prisoner was killed in Bond’s prison a week ago, and they think Bond broke under torture and was mined for intel by the North Koreans. M gives him a vote of confidence by entering his glass prison to let him know she doesn’t think he’ll kill her, but she tells him he’s going for an evaluation and won’t be sent into the field any time soon. Bond… Okay, listen, Bond, like, meditates or something and lowers his heartrate to the point that the monitors he’s hooked up to think he’s dead. Some medical staff rush in to save them, he jolts them with an EKG machine and makes a break for it. Just go with me here.

Bond, now officially gone rogue, heads to a hotel he’s known at and gets a shave, haircut and new suit. The hotel manager, Mr. Chang (Ho Yi), sends up a masseuse to entertain 007, but Bond knows she’s packin’ heat and Chang, who’s actually with Chinese Intelligence (maybe he and Wai Lin have worked together?), is filming him from behind a half-silvered mirror. Bond tells Chang he won’t hold a grudge over all this if Chang can get him into North Korea so he can get his hands on Zao. Chang finds out Zao isn’t in North Korea anymore, though, he’s in Havana. Bond heads to Cuba and meets up with a British sleeper agent/cigar factory owner, Raoul (Emilio Echevarría). Raoul lets Bond know he can find Zao on an island which sports and unusual gene therapy clinic. Bond heads to a hotel which sports a view of the strange island, and there he catches sight of Giacinta “Jinx” Johnson (Halle Berry), who emerges from the ocean like the second coming of Honey Ryder.

Bond and Johnson seem to really hit it off, by which I mean they immediately hit the sheets, but the next morning Bond is left alone as Johnson sets sail for the clinic on Isla Los Organos. Bond knocks out another hotel guest and uses his ticket to get a ride to the island as well. He loads his new unconscious friend into a wheelchair and brings him along to the island, where he causes a distraction by hurling the man and his chair into a wall. He then finds a secret, mirror-lined passage and slinks his way through. Johnson, meanwhile, is apparently getting a consultation for gene therapy. Just kidding, though, she immediately kills the doctor, burns the evidence of her being there and lets us know she’s definitely a spy.

Bond finds Zao in the middle of a procedure that’s meant to rewrite his DNA to make him look like a white dude right as Johnson finds Zao’s file an stops the procedure right in the middle of things and leaves Zao looking like a naked mole rat of a man. Zao wakes up and he and Bond fight, but Zao gets away while Johnson sets off a bomb to shut down the whole facility. Bond and Johnson both chase after Zao, but he gets away in a helicopter. Johnson is almost killed by some guards, who don’t seem to notice Bond, but she avoids death by disrobing and then cliff diving down to an awaiting speedboat. Bond examines a bullet which Zao was wearing as a fun, festive necklace until Bond yoinked it off during their fight. Inside the bullet are some diamonds, which Bond has Raoul examine. The diamonds are being sold by Gustav Graves, who alleges to have found them in Iceland a year ago despite Raoul being able to definitively identify them (somehow) as African blood diamonds. Hey, that sounds familiar!

Who cares about all of that, though, because the most important man in MI6, Charles Robinson, arrives at work just in time to catch Miss Moneypenny spying on a conversation between M and Falco from the NSA. Falco thinks M played a part in Bond’s escape, and Charles Robinson sagely watches on as M shoulders the weight of Falco’s threats to make things right at MI6. Bond, meanwhile looks some stuff on Gustav Graves (Toby Stephens), who makes an interest by parachuting down to meet up with his publicist Miranda Frost (Rosamund Pike) in front of a bunch of reporters (and Bond). Bond tracks Graves and Frost to a fencing… club? academy? class? I don’t know. It’s hosted by Verity (Madonna in the cameo no one asked for), who introduces Bond to Graves. Bond, despite being on the run from MI6 and, like, a secret agent, uses his real name because why not.

Bond and Graves immediately get into a cock measuring contest via proxy in the form of a fencing match, during which Bond lets Graves know he’s figured out that Graves is selling blood diamonds. Graves challenges Bond to up the stakes and the two start fighting with real swords and completely wrecking Verity’s swordfight clubhouse. Frost eventually breaks up the fight and Graves invites Bonds to a science demonstration. A bellboy gives Bond a mysterious envelope with a key in it, and he goes to an abandoned subway station to meet up with M. M’s not here to capture Bond, though, she just wants to compare notes on Graves. M warns Bond about Graves’ political connections and agrees to give him some unsanctioned help.

Bond arrives at MI6, only to find Moneypenny dead from a gunshot to the head. He takes out several attackers and is joined by Charles Robinson himself, so you just know everything’s going to be alright. But then the unthinkable, the impossible, the inconceivable happens and Charles Robinson, the unshakable foundation upon which the stability of the British government rests, is gunned down. No, I can’t accept it! I won’t! And I don’t have to, because this is all a training session taking place in the VR Zone. C’mon, you know a Q-Branch simulation is the only place a facsimile of Charles Robinson could ever be bested! Q (née R) brings Bond safely out of the VR Zone and takes him to his workshop in the subway, where Bond proceeds to touch everything like a five-year-old at a toy store. Bond is outfitted with a sonic ring that can smash unbreakable glass and, get ready for this, a car that turn invisible.

We’re due for a twist, so we get to sit in on a meeting with M and Frost, who, it turns out, is an MI6 agent spying on Graves. Frost things Graves will blow her cover, but M says that in all her time spying on Graves Frost has turned up dick all and M wants Bond to go in and shake some shit up a bit. Bond heads to Graves’ ice palace in Iceland where he’s greeted by the imaginatively named Mr. Kil (Lawrence Makoare) before Graves scoots up in his super speedy sled car thing. We get another mention of Graves never sleeping, which is a thing that just keeps getting brought up. The famous Jinx Johnson arrives while Bond heads to the bar before his DTs can get too out of hand. Bond and Johnson meet up while Zao arrives at the ice palace. He pulls Graves out of a crazy dream machine which he has to use to stay sane due to his permanent insomnia, and it turns out Graves is actually Moon post-gene alteration.

The shindig finally gets underway and Graves unveils Icarus, a satellite which can reflect Sol’s light toward Earth and function as a second sun. Bond hides out in his magical invisible car so he can snoop around in Graves’ private business, but immediately gets caught because he’s just no good at stealth. Frost saves Bond from being discovered by Mr. Kil by making out with him while Johnson Mission Impossibles her way into Graves’ inner sanctum. While Frost and Bond are busy getting busy, Johnson is doing some actual work. Unfortunately she finds Zao waiting in Graves’ dream machine instead of Graves himself, who sneaks up behind her and electrocutes her with a souped-up Power Glove.

Zao and Mr. Kil interrogate Johnson, but she ain’t a canary and she ain’t in the mood to sing, so Zao leaves Mr. Kil to slice her up with a mining laser (paging Dr. Goldfinger). Bond finally arrives at Graves’ greenhouse lair in time to save Johnson, but first he has to deal with Mr. Kil. Bond gets his ass handed to him, but the still-restrained Johnson manages to kill Mr. Kil with the mining laser. Bond sends Johnson off to find Frost and get in touch with MI6 while Bond confronts Graves and reveal he finally knows the dude is actually Moon. Frost arrives, only to turn her gun on Bond. Turns out Frost set Bond up in North Korea and she’s been a double agent the whole time. Frost is about to execute Bond, but luckily he’s got his glass-shattering ring which allows him to… well, shatter some glass. Specifically the glass floor of the green house. You get it.

Bond escapes in Graves’ super sled, but Graves brings in some North Korean generals so he can demonstrate the destructive capability of Icarus to them. Icarus hyper-focuses the sun’s like way beyond what could be useful for a farmer trying to get that sweet wheat all year ‘round, and Bond barely out maneuvers the solar death beam by driving the sled off the side of an ice shelf and using the sled’s anchor (?) to keep himself from falling into the frigid sea. Graves solves this problem by just carving off the whole chunk of ice and making a prophetically topical joke about global warming. Bond survives, though, by jumping into a Nintendo 64 surfing game and shredding away to safety.

Johnson is discovered by Frost and Zao, who inform her she’s going to die… eventually. Bond steals a Ski-Doo and makes it back to the ice palace where he retrieves his inviso-mobile, which is useful for about a minute until another Ski-Doo crashes into it. Zao uses the thermal vision of his own car to spot Bond, and the two set off on a merry chase while the now-abandoned ice castle begins to rumble around Johnson. Graves fires up Icarus and begins to melt the ice palace, but not before Bond crashes into it (the car chase is still going on, BTW). Bond tricks Zao into driving into a pool formed out of melted ice and then shoots a chandelier down onto him instead of just shooting him in the head.

Bond retrieves the almost-drowned Johnson and gets her into the warmth of the greenhouse in time to save her. The two head to a US bunker on the South Korean side of the demilitarized zone where they’re greeted by the one, the only, the legend, the icon, Charles Robinson. With a mind to rival Watson, Charles Robinson lays down the skinny in no time flat. Graves and Frost are in North Korea, and neither the American nor the British governments can go get him before Icarus is used to destroy any of North Korea’s enemies (i.e. everypony). M’s sending in Bond anyway, and Falco decides he needs a reason to be in this movie so he sends Johnson in too. The two are airdropped in, and Charles Robinson, with the sage, cautious wisdom of an old barn owl, worries that they’ll be detected. Falco’s dumbass has the nerve, the gal, the audacity to tell Charles Robinson to “relax”, so you know that sonofabitch has some comeuppance headed his way.

The missiles Falco has sent to destroy Icarus are instantly destroyed by the mirror’s solar laser, because of course they are you dumb stupid idiot. Bond and Johnson, meanwhile, have landed and stowaway on Graves’ plane. Graves calls for his zaddy to be brought down, where he reveals himself in his new white face and shows off a plastic mech suit that allows him to control Icarus via a computer mouse trackball installed in his Power Glove. He fires up Icarus to show off and make his papa proud, but General Moon tells him the other countries will nuke the hell out of North Korea to shut this shit down. Graves doesn’t take paternal rejection well and 86es his dear old dad. Bond tries to shoot Graves but his shot is deflected, resulting in a window getting blown out and the plane violently depressurizing.

Johnson manages to stop the plane from crashing, but then Frost is there to hold her at swordpoint and of course she’s wearing an ornate bra and elbow-length gloves for no damn reason. Who even cares at this point. Icarus’ death beam is still going, by the by, and Charles Robinson, with the time-keeping prowess of the White Rabbit, lets everyone know it’s headed right their way. Johnson flies the plane right into the beam’s path, giving her time to get the better of Frost. Johnson and Frost fight with blades while Bond and Graves just ineffectually punch each other. Johnson eventually gets the better of Frost and kills her (with a very saucy, “Bitch!” thrown in for good measure) while Graves gets the better of Bond and prepares to escape the falling plane. Bond prematurely triggers Graves’ parachute, which results in Graves being sucked into the plane’s engines and most definitely dying.

Bond and Johnson find a helicopter hidden in the plane, Inception style, and manage to ride it out of the exploding plane in time to avoid death by ground. Bond makes what I think has to be a weird 69 joke before the two fly off into the sky with a crate of diamonds in the back of the helicopter.

Moneypenny uses Q’s VR shades to live out a fantasy involving Bond banging her at MI6, because that’s all this movie has to say about her character, but Q interrupts her before she can rub one out. Glad everyone thought this scene definitely needed to be in this already-over-two-hours movie.

Bond and Johnson have sex on top of the stolen diamonds (imagine how uncomfortable that would be) and we’re finally done here.

The End

~~~~~

Woof! I know way back in my introductory post I mentioned that I’d seen this movie (or at least parts of it) at some point in my checkered past, but, lemme tell ya, there was a whole lot that I’d forgotten/suppressed about Die Another Day. Just to start out with some positives, I actually really liked the design of Zao’s diamond-encrusted face, and I really liked seeing Halle Berry here. She didn’t get anything worthy of her talents to work with, but still. Then there were things that started out neat, but didn’t work in the end. I liked Frost a lot when she was introduced, but then she got reduced to a sword-wielding lunatic in a bra for the final conflict with Jinx. Icarus seemed fun, but then I remembered that this is not the first, not the second but the third Brosnan Bond film with a satellite at the heart of its narrative. We had GoldenEye, then Carver’s dumb satellite news network and now Icarus. That’s three out of four Brosnan films with satellites as key players. I love space as much as the next gay, but, I mean, get a new shtick already! Then there’s stuff that was just silly. Bond stopping his heartbeat? The Power Glove? The ice palace? The invisible car? That Madonna song? C’mon. I know you have to suspend disbelief for any of these movies, but jeez louise. And while I know I don’t normally dwell on the technical side of things during my recaps, but the special effects in this movie were very bad. If we weren’t getting some unnecessary slow-mo, we were having shots like the one of Jinx cliff diving or the truly horrendous kiteboarding scene that legitimately made me gasp when it first started. While there were definitely some fun moments and some little touches I liked, on the whole this flick is a mess and a far, far fall from the glory days of GoldenEye.

I feel I can only give Die Another Day QQ on the Five Q Scale.

We’ll see you again in a hot minute as Eli serves up a couple of fresh recaps of the next two episodes of The Golden Palace, “Say Goodbye, Rose” and “You’ve Lost That Livin’ Feeling”, and after that it’ll be time for me to move onto a brand new Bond as I tackle the next James Bond adventure, Casino Royale (and maybe you can look forward to a few special treats before then, who can say?).

Until then, as always, thank you for reading, thank you for analyzing this (Sigmund Freud) and thank you for being One of Us!

#one of us #007 #james bond

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peaches-of-1 · 5 years

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A/N: This is not yet formatted correctly. I will fix it later! Merry Christmas everyone!

525,600 minutes 525,000 moments so dear 525,600 minutes How do you measure, measure a year?

Some would count in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. Others in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. Let me ask, in 525,600 minutes, how do you measure a year in the life?

How about love? Hmm? How about love? I ask you. How about love? Would you measure in love? Seasons of love. Just seasons of love.

In her office, Maman scrolled through pictures of her and Hwasa. They were cute together, but the pictures didn’t show everything. Like the cheating. The breakup. The arguments. Just them smiling. Lying…

525,600 minutes. 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes. How do you measure the life of a woman or man? Would someone measure their life in truths that she learned, or in times that he cried? In bridges he burned, or the way that she died?

Either way, it's time now to sing out, though the story never ends. Let's celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends. Looking back it was important to remember the love you’ve gotten before. You got to, you got to remember the love.

You know that love is a gift from up above. Religious or not, it comes from a place of light. Love comes from all that is good and hopeful in the world or out of it. Remember the love. Share love, give love, spread love. Measure in love!

Seasons of love. Just seasons of love. Measure, measure your life in love

______

It had been a few days since Christmas and was now New Year’s Eve. The crew hadn’t returned to their home since they had no idea how to get in and also there were cops patrolling. There weren’t many now that the year was coming to a close, so Hyuna, Hyojong, and Hui stood by the door.

Hui used his skills to slowly pan to the padlock, “New Year’s Rockin’ Eve: The Breaking Back into the Building Party.”

“How long till next year?” Hyuna asked now in magenta purple dress made of crushed velvet and lace around the hem. It was long sleeves which made her even warmer in her jacket and black heels.

Hyojong looked at his watch, “Three and half minutes…”

“I'm giving up my vices.” She said. “I'm going back - back to school. Eviction or not, this week's been so hot that long as I've got you, I know I'll be cool.” She booped his nose. “I couldn't crack the love code, dear 'til you made the lock on my heart explode! It's gonna be a happy new year!”

He lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

“A happy new year.”

Hui came back from making sure the patrols really were gone, “Coast is clear. You're supposed to be working.” He took the cheap alcohol from Hyuna. “That's for midnight. Where are they? There isn't much time.”

“Maybe they're dressing.” The red head teased. “I mean what does one wear that's apropos for a party - that's also a crime?”

“Chips, anyone?” Hwasa said in a bright red leather(?) bathing suit and matching heeled boots.

The film nerd laughed and pointed the older camera at her, “You can take the girl out of Hicksville, but you can't take the Hicksville out of the girl.”

She stuck out her tongue, “My riot got you on TV. I deserve a royalty!”

Hyuna snuck the bottle away from Hui, “Be nice you two or no god awful champagne!”

Hwasa skipped over to the beautiful girl, “Don't mind if I do. No luck?”

Hyojong sighed, “Bolted plywood, padlocked with a chain. A total dead end.”

“Just like my ex-girlfriend.” The short haired woman dialed her just mentioned ex. “Jagiya...? I know you're there...Please pick up the phone. Are you okay?”

Hui chuckled as he filmed his own ex acting not so differently but also slightly different from when they dated. She swatted at him.

“It's not funny! It's not fair!! How can I atone? Are you okay?” She sighed. “I lose control, but I can learn to behave. Give me one more chance. Let me be your slave! I'll kiss your Doc Martens! Let me kiss your Doc Martens! Your every wish I will obey!!!”

Maman spoke from behind the desperate artist, “That might be okay. Down girl.”

Hwasa kneeled.

“Heel...stay.” Then she walked past the leather clad woman to talk to the others. “I did a bit of research with my friends at legal aid. Technically, you're squatters. There's hope, but just in case.” She pulled out a white bundle from her purse.

Rope!

Maman and Hui then began to plot, talking back and forth with him starting out, “We can hoist a line--”

“To the fire escape--”

“And tie off at…”

“That bench!” They said in unison and pointed at the same spot. They high fived each other.

Hwasa pouted, “I can't take them as chums.”

Maman scoffed, “Start hoisting...wench!” She tossed her ex the rope but was then chased by her and ran away with Hui close by.

Even Hyojong was able to crack a smile at their antics, “I think I should be laughing. Yet I forget, forget how to begin. I'm feeling something inside and yet I still can't decide if I should hide or make a wide open grin.” He grabbed his girlfriend around the waist. “Last week I wanted just to disappear. My life was dust, but now it just may be a happy new year. A happy new year!” He lifted the champagne bottle up high.

That’s when Namjoon announced himself dressed in all black, “Bond, James Bond.”

Key posed by his boyfriend, “And Pussy Galore. In person!” She had bolt cutters in hand.

Hyuna was glad to see her friend dressed up so well, “Pussy, you came prepared!”

The two hugged and Key said, “I was a boy scout once, and a brownie...'til some brat got scared.” He pursed his lips.

Namjoon deepened his voice even more to exclaim, “Aha! Moneypenny, my martini!”

“Will bad champagne do?” Hyuna asked, pouring him a cup.

“That's shaken, not stirred.” He took a sip. “Pussy, the bolts.”

Key grabbed both handles of the bolt cutter, “Just say the word!”

“Two minutes left to execute our plan.” the red head chirped.

“Where's everyone else?” Namjoon asked.

Hyojong snarked, “Playing Spiderman.”

____

Once inside, Hui began recording on his older camera. Ironic close up: tight on the phone machine's red light. Once the Boho boys are gone, the power mysteriously comes on. Everyone looked around, confused and suspicious.

Hui kept the camera on the answering machine, “Hui, it's the Wicked Witch of the West: Your mother. Happy New Year from home. We're all impressed that the riot footage made the nightly news. Even your father says congrats, honey...call him. Love Mom!”

The next message played, “Lee Hwitaek, Alexi Darling from Buzzfed.”

“Oh, that show's so sleazy.” He snarked.

“Your footage from the riots: A1. Feature segment, network, deal time. I'm sending you a contract. Ker-ching ker-ching! Marky give us a call 970-4301 or at home try 863-6754 or my cellphone at 919-763-0090 or you can e-mail me at darlingalexinews.com.net or you can page me at--” It cut off.

Hwasa beamed, “I think we need an agent!”

“We?” Hui asked.

Maman shook her head, “That’s selling out.”

“But it's nice to dream!”

“Yeah! It's network TV and it's all thanks to me!” The short haired girl threw her hands in the air.

Hui whispered to Maman, “Somehow i think i smell a whiff of a scheme!”

“Me too.” She responded.

And sure enough, Hwasa said, “We can plan another protest!”

“We?” The lawyer asked.

She nodded, “This time you can shoot from the start, you'll direct, starring me!”

“5, 4, 3, open sesame!” The window unlocked quite easily. “Happy new year!” Everyone cheered. “Happy new year! Happy new…”

The sound of a party horn being blown and the face blowing it ruined the wild mood.

Choongmin smiled, “I see that you've beaten me to the punch.”

“How did you know we'd be here?” The videographer asked.

“I had a hunch.”

“You're not mad?”

The business man shook his head, “I'm here to end this war. It's a shame you went and destroyed the door.”

Hyuna squinted at him, “Why all of a sudden the big about face?”

He smirked, “The credit is yours.You made a good case.”

“What case?” Hyojong looked at her.

“Hyuna came to see me, and she had much to say.”

She folded her arms, “That's not how you put it at all yesterday!”

“I couldn't stop thinking about the whole mess!” The snake looked towards the camera man, “Hui, you'll want to get this on film.”

He shrugged and pressed record on his phone, “I guess.”

Choongmin faced the camera and cleared his throat, “I regret the unlucky circumstances of the last seven days.”

“Circumstance?” Hyojong laughed. “You padlocked our door!”

He continued, “And it's a great pleasure on behalf of Cyber Arts that I hand you this key.”

“Golf claps.” Key said sarcastically, clapping his hands together quietly.

Hui accidentally deleted the footage, “I had no juice in my battery.”

“Reshoot!” Choongmin said trying to keep his cool.

It didn’t get past E’Dawn, “Oh I see, this is a photo opportunity.”

Hwasa skipped in front of the business man and bowed low, “The benevolent god ushers the poor artists back to their flat.” She then flipped him off and went to sit on a table. “Were you planning on taking down the barbed wire from the lot too?”

“Anything but that!” Hyojong scoffed.

Choongie cut in, “Clearing the lot was a safety concern. We break ground this month, but you can return.”

“That's why you're here with people you hate instead of with Muffy at Muffy's estate!” Hwasa stated.

He brushed his finger through his hair, “I honestly rather'd be with you tonight than in West Port.”

Hyojong scoffed, “Spare us old sport, the sound bite!”

That’s when he started to get huffy and pointed at the blonde, “Hyuna, since you were so seductive--”

“You came onto me!” She made it clear.

“Persuade him not to be so counterproductive”

“Liar!” Hyojong yelled.

The yuppie smirked, “Why not tell them what you wore to my place?”

Hyuna set her jaw, “I was on my way to work!”

“In black leather and lace?” He asked. “My desk was a mess. I think I'm still sore!”

She stood and yelled back at him, “Cause I kicked him and told him I wasn't his whore!”

“Does your boyfriend know who your last boyfriend was?”

Hyojong screamed at the top of his lungs, “I'm not her boyfriend, I don't care what she does!” He glared at her and refused to touch her.

Key had to step in, “People, is this any way to start a new year?” Cue jazz hands. “Have compassion, Choongie just lost his cat.”

“My dog, but I appreciate that.” He corrected.

“My cat had a fall, and I went through hell.” Key explained.

“It's like losing a…” He paused. “How did you know that she fell?”

Namjoon stepped in handing a class to Choongie, “Champagne?”

“Don't mind if I do. To dogs…” He raised his glass.

Everyone snarked back, “No, Benny, to you!”

“Let's make a resolution~” Key said, holding Hyuna’s hand.

She gave a sore smirk, “I'll drink to that!”

“Let's always stay friends.” Namjoon said.

Maman pushed Hyojong back towards the girl he loved, “Though we may have our disputes--”

“This family tree's got deep roots.” Hwasa said, getting a soft smile from her ex.

Hui proclaimed, “Friendship is thicker than blood.”

“That depends…” the blonde said.

“It depends on trust.” Hyuna jabbed.

To which he replied, “Depends on true devotion.”

“I depends on love.” Maman nudged once more.

“Depends on not denying emotion!” Hui said, giving Hyojong a look.

“Perhaps.” Was his only reply.

Hyuna wanted to get out of there, but the others on her side kept her from leaving. It was gonna be a happy new year!

“I guess…” E’Dawn said. “You're right.”

Key cheered, “It's gonna be a happy new year, doll!”

Everyone left to give the two their space and see what was left of their living space. Hwasa and Maman even joined hands, having made up in their own way.

“I'm sorry.” They said in unison.

“Coming?” Hyojong asked.

She nodded, “In a minute. I'm fine. Go~”

He kissed her forehead, proud of her for being clean for so long and trusting her. He just thought she needed her space, but then the dealer arrived with her fix.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” He asked, and the trade happened. “It's gonna be a happy new year.” He said mockingly.

________

VALENTINE’S DAY

Hui’s camera panned across the empty lot, “Hyojong’s down at Hyuna’s where he has been for almost two months now. Although he keeps talking about selling his guitar and heading out of town...he’s still jealous of Choong-ie. God knows where Namjoon and Key are...could be the new shanty town near the river or a suite at the Plaza.”

He decided to go for a walk and record some B footage and passed by where he knew where Hwasa and her on-again-off-again girlfriend would be, “Hwasa and Maman are practicing.” and the man was just about to open the door.

“I SAID, ONCE MORE FROM THE TOP!” Maman commanded.

“I SAID, NO!” Hwasa screamed back.

Hui backed up real quick, “That is if they’re speaking this week.” The he showed his face for the first time since filming. “Me? I’m here...nowhere...alone.”

~~~~~~

“The line is ‘Cyber Arts and its corporate sponsors: Great Communications wish to mitigate the Christmas Eve Riot’ What’s so difficult about that?” Maman said as if it were a piece of cake.

Hwasa gave her a pointed look, “It just doesn’t roll off my tongue.” Then she whined. “I like my version!”

She rolled her eyes, “You dressed as a groundhog to protest the groundbreaking?”

The short haired girl gave an excited nod, “It’s a metaphor!”

“It’s less than brilliant.”

“Ugh!” She stormed off the stage, “That’s it Miss Ivy League!”

Maman was surprised, “What?”

“Ever since New Year’s I haven’t said Boo. I let you direct. I didn’t pierce my nipples because you said it grossed you out. I didn’t stay and dance at the Clit Club that night because you wanted to go home!”

“You were flirting with the woman in rubber!” she pointed out.

Hwasa sighed, “That’s what this is about? There will always be woman in rubber flirting with me, gimme a break.” She went face to face with Maman. “ Every single day I walk down the street, I hear people say ‘baby’s so sweet’. Ever since puberty, everybody stares at me! Boys, girls, I can’t help it, baby.” She walked her fingers up Maman’s lapels and held her chin, “So be kind, and don’t lose your mind. Just remember, that I’m your baby.”

Then she strutted away, taking the long way back to the stage, “Take me for what I am! Who I was meant to be! And if you give a damn, take me, baby or leave me.” The short haired woman smirked. “Take me baby or leave me!”

She lifted her arms high, “A tiger in a cage can never see the sun! This diva needs her stage. Baby, let’s have fun! You are the one I choose! Folks would kill to fill your shoes! You love the limelight too now baby. So be mine, or don’t waste my time crying ‘Oh honey bear are you still my my my baby?’” She went to the center of the stage and stood on the highest stacked crate. “Take me for what I am! Who I was meant to be! And if you give a damn! Take me baby or leave me!”

Hwasa then did a very sensual strut as well as poses to try to convince her girlfriend, “No way can I be what I’m not. But hey! Don’t you want your girl hot? Don’t fight, don’t lose you head, Cause every night who’s in your bed?” She slunk closer. “Who? Who’s in your bed? Kiss, aein?” She stuck out her lips.

Maman put her hand to block it, “It won’t work. I look before I leap. I love margins and discipline. I make lists in my sleep. Baby, what’s my sin? Never quit, I follow through. I hate mess but I love you. What to do with my impromptu baby? So be wise, cause this girl satisfies.” She did a small sexy dance. “You got a prize, so don’t compromise. You’re one lucky baby!” She decided to use her girlfriend’s phrase. “Take me for what I am!”

“A control freak.” Hwasa murmured.

“Who I was meant to be!”

“A snob yet over attentive.”

“And if you give a damn~!”

“Loveable droll geek!” She said slightly above her normal level.

The older woman leaned in, “Take me baby or leave me!”

“And anal retentive!”

That was it! The straw that broke their back. They quit!

Maman wanted to give her a chance, “Unless you take it back!”

Women, what is it about them? You can’t live with them or without them! They said the same things over and over again without trying to compromise or understand the otherside. They just wanted to be taken for what they were, who they were meant to be!

“And if you give a damn, take me baby--” Hwasa began.

The lawyer imitated her lover in bed, “Oh take me, baby!”

“Or leave me!”

Maman yelled back, “Take me, baby! Or leave me!” Followed up by, “Guess I’m leaving!” as she walked away, grabbing her purse.

They both turned to face each other one last time, “I’m gone!”

~~~~~~

Seasons of Love B - What you Own

So I ask you again. How would you measure your life? In diapers, report cards, in spoke wheels, in speeding tickets? In contracts, dollars, in funerals, in births? In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes how do you figure a last year on earth?

Figure in love. I say figure in love. Please figure in love. Measure in love. Seasons of love.

Seasons of love.

It was now spring, and it seems as though Hyuna and Hyojong were missing each other once again. He had been waiting for her for hours now.

She walked in, obviously high, “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Where were you? No, let me guess.” He said, listing off the excuses she gave. “You lost your key? No, no, no. You went for a walk. You had to help your mother.” He sighed and set his jaw. “How’s Choongie?”

Hyuna laughed at the thought, “Babe…”

“Don’t bother.” He already had his guitar back in its case. “I’m working upstairs tonight.”

“Wait!” She called out. “I should tell you. I should tell you…” Then she turned around. “Nevermind.”

Hyojong let out a heavy sigh and began to climb the stairs back to his own apartment, the phrase “Happy Spring” faltering on his lips. Hyuna waited until he was gone to start working on getting her next high. Then she threw away the packet and realized how lonely she was.

Without you. She thought. The ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows. Without you the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play, the stars gleam. Her legs carried her to the window with her head full of thoughts. The poets dream. The eagles fly.

Without you. The earth turns, the sun burns. Hyuna felt the water droplet on her hands, “But I die without you.”

Time passed, and new flowers had come to life. The two lovebirds didn’t fly near each other much anymore. In fact, they actively avoided each other. Hyojong got angry every time he thought of Hyuna’s red hair, and she didn’t want him to see how bad she had gotten.

While trying to not go to the dealer today, she thought she saw him pass by.

Without you. The breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves. Without you the tides change, the boys run. The oceans crash.

And she continued her job at the Cat Scratch club, eyes bleary as she performed once again, everything moving in slow motion. The crowds roared for her as the days soared.

Hyuna sat outside again after work, not going to his place as she heard wailing. The babies cry without you. She looked up. The moon glows, the river flows, but I die without you.

Hyojong tried to write, “The world revives—”

She stared at a painting in Choongie’s office as she went to see him again, “Colors renew—”

But they knew blue, only blue, lonely blue, within them...blue. Even as Hyuna was undressed by the married man, she thought about her Hyojong and what they could’ve been. Without you the hand gropes, the ear hears, the pulse beats…

The musician couldn’t deny that things weren’t going well in his life either and sung to himself, “Without you, the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe.”

Their minds churned and their hearts yearned. Yet their tears dried without the other in their lives.

The blonde stared out the window to see her linking arms with the yuppie scum and thought Life goes on, but I’m gone cause I die without you. Hyuna looked back as she felt him looking at her, but he moved away from the window at the same time.

Without you.

_____

Hui was at home when the familiar “SPEAK…” followed by a beep went off. A familiar nasally voice rambled off.

“Lee Hwitaek, Alexi Darling. Labor Day Weekend in East Hampton. On the beach~ Just saw Shawn Mendes told him you said ‘Hi’!” She paused. “Just kidding. We still need directors. You still need money. You know you need money. Pick up the phone. Don't be afraid of ker-ching ker-ching! Lee~sell us your soul~”

Another pause, longer this time, “Just kidding. We're waiting…!”

Maybe it was better to take up that offer of recording an orgy that Key told him about from his hospital bed. It’d be less dirty than working for Buzzfed. Fall had approached quickly. It wasn’t soon after recording that Hui got the call that Key passed away.

Everyone rushed to the hospital and cried. Hyuna was holding it pretty well until the doctor unhooked the monitor. Then she sobbed.. Hyojong was gonna reach out to her, but she turned into Hwasa’s arms. Maman pat the young man’s arm while Hui comforted Namjoon who was trying to hold his feelings back but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

Each of them spoke in turn at Key’s funeral. Then it was Namjoon’s turn. He tightly gripped the jacket his love had bought just last winter. Not even a full year ago. She was buried on Halloween, her favorite holiday.

He sang their song instead of speaking, “Live in my house…” he sniffled. “I’ll be your shelter. Just pay me back with one thousand kisses. Be my lover, and I’ll cover you...open your door. I’ll be your tenant. Don’t got much baggage to lay at your feet.”

Joon remembered that winter day they were making out before breaking back into their building. Key had looked amazing in those heels, but the first day they met felt like yesterday. Her legs in those zebra print leggings.

“But sweet kisses I’ve got to spare. I’ll be there, and I’ll cover you. Oh! I think they meant it when they said you can’t buy love, now I know you can rent it. A new lease you...were, my love on life. All my life I’ve longed to discover something as true as this is!”

Maman picked him up by chiming in, “So with a thousand sweet kisses!”

525,600 minutes.

“If you’re cold and you're lonely.” Namjoon continued with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“With a thousand sweet kisses!”

525,600 moments so dear.

“You’ve got one nickel only.”

Maman knew she would never feel as much pain as he did, but still cried along the others, “With a thousand sweet kisses”

525,600 minutes

“When you worn out and you’re tired”

“With a thousand sweet kisses!”

525,000

“When your heart has expired!” Namjoon wailed. “Ooohh, lover, I’ll cover you! Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeahhhhhh! Ohhh lover!” He stared at the coat.

525,000 seasons of love

“I’ll cover you!”

The guests decided to give Namjoon some more time to say goodbye for the last time. Hui had to make a call.

“Hi. It's Hwitaek. Is Alexi there? Uhh, no need to bother her. Just let her know that I'm running late for my appointment. I'm at my friend's---yes, I'll still be there. Yes, I signed the contract… Thanks.” He hung up.

As he gazed across the friends he had collected this year, he took out his phone and pressed record, “How did we get here? How the hell…

Pan left. Close on the steeple of the church.

“How did I get here? How the hell...Christmas.” He smirked to himself. Christmas Eve last year.

How could a night so frozen be so scalding hot?. How can a morning this mild be so raw? Why are entire years strewn on the cutting room floor of memory when single frames of one magic night forever flicker in. Close-up on the 3D Imax of my mind.

“That's poetic.” He said out loud and scoffed at himself. “That's pathetic.” He changed the angle. “Why did Hyuna knock on Hyojong's door and Namjoon choose that phonebooth back where Key-hyung set up his drums? Why did Hwasa's equipment break down?”

Then he got silent and asked himself, Why am I the witness? And when I capture it on film, will it mean that it's the end and I'm alone?

Hyuna stumbled over the last step looking sickly as she asked Hyojong, “It’s true you sold your guitar, and bought a car?”

He nodded, “It’s true. I'm leaving now for Santa Fe. It’s true you're with this yuppy scum?” He motioned to Choongmin.

The man was unhappy, “You said you'd never speak to him again.”

“Not now.” The girl with a splotchy red dye job said as he found someplace to sick.

Maman helped her.

Hwasa butted in, “Who said that you have any say in who she says things to at all?”

“Yeah!” E’Dawn said.

Everyone was hurting. Maman spoke up, “Who said that you should stick your nose in other people’s---”

“Who said I was talking to you?” Her ex snapped.

They covered their hurt with hate and yelled at others instead of dealing with the pain.

The lawyer caught herself and said, “We used to have this fight each night--”

“Calm down.” Hui tried to stop things from getting worse.

“--She never admit I existed!”

“Everyone, please!” He begged.

Hyuna gave a scornful scoff and paced, “He was the same way. It was always ‘Run away, hit the road, don’t commit.” She shoved him. “You’re full of shit!”

“Noona!” Hyojong called.

Maman looked her ex up and down, “She’s in denial.”

Hyuna did the same, “He’s in denial…”

Hui tried again, “Guys!”

But he didn’t get through to the girls as they aired dirty laundry on such a day as this.

“Didn’t give an inch when I gave a mile.” Doc Martins stomped.

“I gave a mile!” Hyuna yelled.

Hyojong retorted, “Gave a mile to who?”

Now both Hui and Choongmin were trying to get them to calm down, “C’mon guys, chill!”

The girls looked at each other, “I’d be happy to die for a taste of what Kibum had. Someone to live for, unafraid to say ‘I love you’!”

“All your words are nice, noona, but love's not a three way street.” E’Dawn snapped. “You’ll never share real love until you love yourself. I should know.”

Namjoon pushed them apart, pointing at them with Key’s drum sticks, “You all said you’d be cool today, so please for my sake!” He let out a sob. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe you’re going. I can’t believe this family must die. Our Key helped us believe in love.” He looked at his friends. “I can’t believe you disagree.”

In their hearts, everyone felt the same thing. I can’t believe this is goodbye.

Hwasa opened her arms, “Aein?”

“Honeybear.” Maman ran into them.

They chattered on about how much they missed each other and started to kiss. Even when one accused the other of biting their tongue, they made up and waved goodbye to the others to be with each other. The priest called for Namjoon who said he was coming to finish things up. Hyuna left with her businessman.

“I hear, there are great restaurants out West.” Hui tried to start a decent conversation.

“Some of the best, how could she?”

He cut the shit real quick, “How could you let her go?”

Hyojong shook his head, “You just don't know.” He sighed and looked at the church. “How could we lose Key-hyung?”

“Maybe you'll see why when you stop escaping your pain. At least now if you try, Kibum's death won't be in vain!”

Anger fueling his words, he replied, “His death is in vain!”

Hui was shocked, “Are you insane? There's so much to care about. There's me, there's Hyuna!”

“Hyuna's got her baggage too.”

“So do you.” He reminded his friend.

“Who are you to tell me what I know? What to do?”

“A friend!”

Hyojong clarified, “But who Hui are you? Hui has got his work’ They say ‘Hui lives for his work and Hui's in love with his work’.” He instead believed that, “Hui hides in his work.”

Hui scoffed, “From what?”

“From facing your failure. Facing your loneliness. Facing the fact you live a lie. Yes, you live a lie! Tell you why. You're always preaching not to be numb when that's how you thrive. You pretend to create and observe when you really detach from feeling alive.”

He set his jaw, “Perhaps it's because I'm the one of us to survive!”

E’Dawn scoffed and threw up his hand, “Poor baby!” He spat.

His dirty blonde friend wasn’t letting him do this to himself, “Noona still loves Hyojong. Is Hyojong really jealous afraid that Hyuna's weak?”

“Hyuna did look pale.” He admitted.

Hui spoke the truth as he wanted his friend to stay, to finish his business at least, “Hyuna's gotten thin. Hyuna's running out of time. Hyojong's running out the door!”

“No more, oh no! I've gotta go.” He grabbed the bag he had with all this things in there. It wasn’t much.

“Hey!” Hui called. “For someone who's always been let down. Who's heading out of town?”

Hyojong shot back, “For someone who longs for a community of his own. Who's with his camera, alone?” He didn’t apologize, but he said, “I'll call. I hate the fall.”

As he went towards his car, he ran into Hyuna.

“You heard?” The embarrassed blonde asked.

She nodded, “Every word...You don't want baggage without lifetime guarantees. You don't want to watch me die. I just came to say goodbye love. Goodbye love, came to say goodbye love. Goodbye. Just came to say goodbye love.

Glory. Hyojong reminded himself.

“Goodbye love.”

One blaze of glory.

“Goodbye love, goodbye.”

He rushed passed her, “I have to find…”

Choongmin reached out his hand, and Hyuna pushed him away, “Please don't touch me, understand. I'm scared. I need to go away.”

Hui spoke up, “I know a place, a clinic.”

“A rehab?” Her boyfriend suggested.

She nodded, “Maybe. Could you?”

He nodded as well, “I'll pay.”

Hyuna still said her farewells, “Goodbye love, goodbye love. Came to say goodbye love, goodbye. Just came to say goodbye love. Goodbye love, goodbye love. Goodbye love,” She coughed. “Hello, disease!”

She ran off, and Choongmin thought it best not to follow.

Namjoon came out of the church being yelled at by the parson, “Off the premises now, we give no handouts here!”

“What happened to rest in peace?” Hui asked.

The priest glared at him, “Off the premises,” and he used their word against them.

Namjoon pointed at him, his love’s drumsticks in hand, “That’s no way to send a boy to meet his maker! They had to know we couldn’t pay the undertaker.”

Hui went to comfort his friend. What would they do?

Choongmin spoke up, “Don’t you worry about a thing. Hey!” He called to the frocked man. “I’ll take care of it!”

The priest rolled his eyes and closed the door on them.

“Must be nice to have money?” Hui said.

“No shit.” The others said in unison.

Then the man wearing a gray beanie admitted, “I think it only fair to tell you, you just paid for the funeral of the person who killed your dog.”

“I know.” Choongmin chuckled. “I’ve always hated that dog.” He then threw his arm around the two and said, “Let’s pay him off and then get drunk.”

Hui sighed, “Can’t. I have a meeting.”

“Punk.” Namjoon said.

Choongie nodded his head to the nearest bar, “Let’s go.”

The two men left for the bottom of a bottle and the dirty blonde filmer sat in front of a camera and a colorful but neutral background as he talked about something going on in the world of k-pop and how it was coming more important in American pop culture, but it was just gossip about certain idols instead of the things that mattered. The things Hui actually wanted to do.

He asked himself what was he doing?

“Don't breathe too deep.” Someone scolded him.

“Don't think all day.” Another senior told him while handing him a new article. “Dive into work.”

December came even more quickly than it had last year. E’Dawn wasn’t getting jobs and found himself constantly writing about Hyuna. Everything he penned down or scribbled on cafe napkins was about her.

Drive the other way. Hui told himself. That drip of hurt, that pint of shame goes away just play the game. Why was this a thing? He chuckled and said to himself. You're living in America at the end of the millenium. You're living in America leave your conscience at the tone.

And when you're living in America at the end of the millenium. You're what you own. The filmmaker cannot see and the songwriter cannot hear. Yet Hyojong saw Hyuna everywhere while Kibum’s voice was in Hui’s ear. They tried to ignore it by telling themselves to just tighten those shoulders. Just clench your jaw til you frown. Just don't let go or you may drown.

You're living in America at the end of the millenium. You're living in America where it's like the Twilight Zone. And when you're living in America at the end of the millenium. You're what you own.

So they decided to own not a notion, to escape and ape content.

“I don't own emotion,” Hyojong said as he decided drive back to New York. “I rent.” He hadn’t painted his nails black in such a long time.

Hui stood on the roof of his building projecting clips onto a sheet and paused on a clip of the first day, “What was it about that night? Connection in an isolating age.”

For once the shadows gave way to light.

“For once I didn't disengage.” Then he stood and paced. “Angel, I hear you, I hear it

E’Dawn knocked on the closed pawn shop, “Mimi I see you, I see it.”

“I see it, I see it, my film!”

“I hear it, I hear it, my song!” the blonde said now with blue hair.

Hui quickly grabbed the land line and called to do something he had wanted to do for a long time, “Alexi, Hui, call me a hypocrite. I need to finish my own film! I quit!” He hung up. “One Song Glory.” No. That’s not what was important anymore. Was it ever. What mattered now was, “Hyuna, Your Eyes!”

“I quit!” Hui said.

Dying in America at the end of the millenium. They were dying in America to come into their own. And when you're dying in America at the end of the millenium. You're not alone.

Hyojong ran to the roof and smiled as he saw his friend standing there, “I'm not alone!”

“I'm not alone.” He embraced his cool toned buddy tightly.

Voice Mail #5 - Finale B

SPEAK. Beep

A slightly rough but beautiful voice came over the speaker, “Hyojong, this is your mother. Hyojong, honey, I don't get these postcards. ‘Moving to Santa Fe’ then ‘Back in New York Starting a rock band’ Hyojong, where are you? Please call.”

On a cell phone backstage at the Cat Scratch, a message was left, “Hyuna, dal, eodiya? Neoui eomma. Eodiya, Hyuna? Call.”

A very busy office phone remained unanswered, “Kitten, wherever are you? Call me.”

Later, over the speaker after SPEAK and a beep, “Hui, are you there? Are you there. I don't know if he's there. We're all here wishing you were here too. Where are you, Hwitaek? Are you there, are you? Where are you? Hui, are you there? Are you there. I don't know if...Please call your mother!”

______

Christmas bells are ringing. Christmas bells are ringing. Christmas bells are ringing. How time flies. When compassion dies. No stockings. No candy canes. No gingerbread. The homeless mourned: No safety net. No loose change. No change no...

“Santy Claus is coming!” He simulated jacking himself off.

The others just put up with it. Cause Santy Claus ain't coming. No room at the Holiday Inn again. Well, maybe next year or when.

Hui turned on the camera, “December 24th, ten PM. Eastern standard time. I can't believe a year went by so fast. Time to see what we have time to see.” He turned the projector on.

First shot was Hyojong with the fender guitar he just got out of hock when he sold the car that took him away and back.

He grinned, “I found my song.”

The dirty blonde nodded, “He found his song. Now if he could just find Hyuna.”

“I tried.” He said and added with a heavy heart. “You know I tried.”

Hui turned the camera on himself, “Fade in on Hui who's still doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Hyojong joked, “But he's got great footage which he's cut together to screen tonight.”

“In honor of Choongie’s wife--”

“Muffy--”

The man chucked, “Alison, pulling Choongie out of the East Village location.”

Then the lights cut off.

The blue haired E’Dawn looked up, “Then again, maybe we won't screen it tonight.”

Sitting in one of the foldable chairs, Hui asked, “I wonder how Alison found out about Hyuna.”

“Maybe a little bird told her.”

Namjoon appeared in the doorway, “Or someone gave her the key. I had a little hunch that you could use a little flow.”

“Tutoring again?” Hyojong asked, accepting the cash.

“Negative.” He sat on the table and pulled his feet up.

Hui questioned, “Back at N.Y.U.?”

The man shook his head, “No, no, no. I rewired the ATM at the food emporium to provide an honorarium to anyone with the code.”

“The code?” Hui tilted his head but received no answer.

E’Dawn nudged Joonie, “Um...?”

Namjoon smiled, “K-I-B-U-M. Yet Robin Hooding isn't the solution. The powers that be must be undermined where they dwell. In a small, exclusive gourmet institution where we overcharge the wealthy clientele.”

They chuckled as their friend began to say, “Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe”

“Santa Fe” the other two copied.

“With a private corner banquette--”

All three said, “In the back.”

It felt like old times as they talked about Namjoon’s someday dream, “We'll make it yet, we'll somehow get to Santa Fe.”

Hyojong gave a little smile, “But you'd miss New York before you could unpack.”

Their fun humming and catch up session was interrupted by a call from downstairs.

“Hui! E’Dawn! Anyone help!”

Hui looked out the window, “Hwasa?”

Her and Maman were carrying something, or someone, “It's Hyuna! I can't get her up the stairs!” “No!” Hyojong screamed.

Quickly, the guys helped get Hyuna upstairs while they got her onto the table and used all their jackets to warm her up.

Hwasa explained, “She was huddled in the park in the dark and she was freezing, and begged to come here.”

“Over here? Oh, God.”

Hyuna mumbled, “Got a light. I know you. You're shivering.”

Maman put her scarf under her head, “She's been living on the street.”

“We need some heat.” Hyojong said.

“I'm shivering.”

Hui said, “We can buy some wood and something to eat.”

Namjoon put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I'm afraid she needs more than heat.”

“I heard that.” Hyuna piped up.

Hwasa held her hand, “Collins will call for a doctor, honey.”

She shook her head, “Don't waste your money on me…”

“Hello 911?” Namjoon spoke on his phone. Then he sighed. “I'm on hold.”

“Cold...cold... would you light my candle?” The black haired girl sang.

Hyojong nodded where she could see, “Yes we'll--oh God. Someone find a candle!”

She pulled him closer, “I should tell you. I should tell you.”

“I should tell you. I should tell you.” He forced back tears.

Hyuna touched his face, “I should tell you, Choongmin wasn't any--” She turned her head and coughed.

Wanting her to save her energy, Hyojong sushed her, “Shhh. I know. I should tell you why I left. It wasn't cause I didn't--” love you.

“I know. I should tell you.”

“I should tell you.”

She looked in his eyes, “I should tell you. I love...y…” her body went limp.

Hyojong sobbed, “Who do you think you are? Leaving me alone with my guitar?”

Hyuna inhaled deeply and coughed once more. Quickly, her true love grabbed his guitar and returned to his darling’s side.

“Hold on! There's something you should hear. It isn't much, but it took all year.”

The blue-haired boy strummed his guitar, “Your eyes as we said our goodbyes, can't get them out of my mind. And I find I can't hide from your eyes. The ones that took me by surprise. The night you came into my life/Where there's moonlight, I see your eyes. How'd I let you slip away when I'm longing to hold you? Now I'd die for one more day `Cause there's something I should have told you. Yes there's something I should have told you when I looked into your eyes.” He wiped his face. “Why does distance make us wise? You were the song all along and before the song dies! I should tell you, I should tell you”

He set the guitar down and held her hands tightly, “I have always loved you. You can see it in my eyes.”

They kissed and then she was gone. Hyuna stopped breathing. Everyone huddled together and held on to one another. Hwasa clung to her fiance Maman. Hyojong felt his heart break. He had tried to hard to find her so that he could be with her for however long they had left. It wasn’t supposed to be this short! He would do anything to have her back.

“NOONAAAA!” He wailed.

Hyuna sat up with a start, “I jumped over the moon!!!!”

Everyone was shook.

“W-What?” Hyojong asked.

“A leap of moooooooooooo…” She looked around, dazed.

Maman gasped, “She's back.”

“I was in a tunnel. Heading for this warm, white light!” Hyuna explained.

Hwasa hit her girlfriend’s chest, “Oh my god!”

She continued, “And I swear Key was there and she looked GOOD!” She let out a chuckle. “And she said ‘Turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy's song’”

Namjoon started to remove the jackets and blankets, “She's drenched.”

“Her fever's breaking,” The short haired girl added.

A profound thought came to Hui, “There is no future. There is no past.”

Hyojong looked at her, “Thank God this moment's not the last.” He hugged her tightly as both of them spoke together. “There's only us. There's only this. Forget, regret or life is yours to miss. Though it took just a year for them to learn here's only now, remind yourself that sometimes there's only here. Make sure to give in to love or you’ll live in fear. There’s no other path. No other way.

No day but today!

#BTS #Bangtan #SHINee #Maman #Mamamoo #Hwasa #Kim Namjoon #RM #Kim Kibum #Key #Triple H #Pentagon #Hyuna #Kim Hyojong #Lee Hwitaek #Hui #E'Dawn

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mrleopard25 · 6 years

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James Bond Series Revisited: SPECTRE (2015)

Directed by Sam Mendes

Starring Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Ralph Fiennes, and Léa Seydoux

Yes, this has taken years to complete, and for that I apologize. In part it was due to me seeing the film during its opening run and then not again until very recently. I like to be fairly familiar with the film before giving it my full thoughts. Also I like hearing what other people had to say, and well...some of it wasn’t so kind. But I’ve also gone through each of the other Bond films in deep analysis so, like Quantum of Solace, maybe I could give the film a better appraisal. Was it terrible? Was it great? Well...

The film opens on Bond engaging in some good old fashioned espionage in Mexico City, during the Day of the Dead celebrations. Some nefarious types are meeting in a hotel room talking about bombing a stadium, and Bond decides he’s going to assassinate all these guys. They get wise to the attempt at the last second and several explosions later, the block is leveled. But Bond’s target, a man named Sciarra, survives and decides he’s going to escape Bond by the most inconspicuous way he can think of: a helicopter in a crowded town square. Bond’s having none of that, takes his octopus ring, and shoves him out of the helicopter.

But uh oh – why was Bond even there? That’s what M wants to know because, from his point of view, a vacationing agent demolished a couple city blocks and did some aerial tricks in a helicopter above several thousand people. So M wants an explanation, but Bond gives him nothing. This is especially frustrating, as there is a new centralized intelligence agency, the Joint Intelligence Service headed by a man named C, that wants to merge with MI6 and has made no secret about wanting to shut down the 00 program. Why? Because it’s the future!

Meanwhile, Bond reveals to Moneypenny that M, the last M, sent him one of those tapes that says “If you’re seeing this, that means I’m dead, so do this because I’m dead.” Unfortunately M has grounded Bond, but Bond also enlists Q to help him out, and soon Bond has gone to Rome to go to Sciarra’s funeral. He makes an acquaintance of Sciarra’s wife, and later that night saves her from assassination. In response, she informs him of where he can take that octopus ring.

Bond finds himself at a meeting of a clandestine organization engaged in operating terrorist activities around the globe. The leader of the organization notices Bond is there, and soon Bond has to go on the run through the streets of Rome. Based on some word clues, Moneypenny informs Bond that this organization has ties to Mr. White. Bond tracks him down to a remote cabin where he finds the man dying. Bond gets some information about this organization, SPECTRE, and their involvement in global affairs. White makes Bond swear to protect his daughter, then commits suicide.

Bond finds his daughter, Madeline Swann, as a doctor in a special treatment clinic in the mountains. He reveals her father’s fate and her role in this, and she spurns him. On his way out, he bumps into Q, who is feeling chagrinned at working with Bond illegally. Bond gets Q to identify some DNA samples on the ring (not sure why they’re there), and we get links to all the previous Craig movie. More on that later.

SPECTRE tries to abduct Swan and a long chase sequence ensues. After recovering Swann, she takes Bond to a hotel that White used to take his family to, as Bond believes White left information there. Bond tears the room apart, and eventually finds a hidden room that contains information detailing Quantum / SPECTRE activities, including coordinates to a secret base in the Sahara.

Travelling there by rail, Bond and Swann get to know each other a little better, but this is interrupted by Hinx, a SPECTRE assassin, who nearly succeeds in killing them both. After finishing him off, the pair arrive at the SPECTRE base where they are confronted by the leader, Franz Oberhauser – the son of the man who took Bond in after the death of Bond’s parents. Oberhauser killed his father and staged his own death, and has lay hidden as SPECTRE’s leader, calling himself Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Blofeld lays out his objective in overseeing the new global intelligence community, and how C is one of his agents. He then decides to torture Bond by drilling into his brain. Luckily, Bond has an exploding watch that allows him to escape and destroy the compound.

Returning to the UK, Bond meets up with the remains of the 00 program: M, Tanner, Q, and Moneypenny. Their goal is to dismantle the intelligence network before it is activated, and time is running out. Unfortunately, Blofeld kidnaps Swann and keeps her tied up in the old MI6 headquarters, which are rigged to blow. The former MI6 teams now has a limited amount of time to stop Blofeld, C, and SPECTRE.

So SPECTRE isn’t a bad movie. If anything, it’s biggest flaw is that it follows Skyfall. But it’s also not a great film, and I’m pretty sure it boils down to the script. Sam Mendes returns to directing, but we’re missing the fantastic cinematography of Roger Deakins, and he is sorely missed. Not to say that Hoyte van Hoytema is a bad DOP; certainly his work on Interstellar and Dunkirkwas fantastic, but there was something visually stylistic that was missing, and this film just feels like it was filmed as a normal action film.

But on to the script. There are some things taken as granted in the script that rub people the wrong way, myself included. First is that we had a build up in the first two Craig films about an organization called Quantum, that was clearly supposed to be the reboot’s version of SPECTRE at the time. And I was fine with that. It seemed to have the same goals and methods, but be updated for the 21st century. Now we learn that Quantum was really taking orders from SPECTRE this whole time. That could have been an interesting development, if it made sense. But it doesn’t. It only really seems to be done because Blofeld has an anger-boner for Bond. For the fourth movie in a rebooted franchise, having Blofeld be the evil mastermind behind all of it just because he has daddy issues is not good enough for me.

Second are the leaps in logic that serve only to move the story. I really didn’t know how Bond located White’s cabin so quickly. There’s a reference that the Pale King is actually Mr.White, and he was last spotted in some certain place, and then we cut to Bond finding this remote outpost. The average audience member might forgive this, but I found it nonsensical in how fast it happened.

Very glaring is C, played by Andrew Scott (perhaps best known as Moriarty in the BBC Sherlock series). Nobody was fooled by his betrayal, and I think the story would have been better served by this being a genuine surprise that he was working for SPECTRE. I don’t want to denigrate Scott as an actor, but I really feel that he was cast because he has such a sinister presence, not because it would service the story.

And finally is a scene at Blofeld’s Sahara compound where we get a twist on the cliché. Blofeld goes to explain his whole evil plan to Bond, but Bond just explains it to him instead. Blofeld kind of nods and smiles, and basically says “Yeah you got it.” Now, I am completely for us bypassing this cliché, but the way it was written, it seemed more like the movie was getting impatient with itself.

I don’t want to harp on the film too much, because it’s certainly far from the worst in the franchise. And although it’s easy to only focus on the things you don’t like in the movie, we shouldn’t forget the good stuff.

Right at the beginning of the film, we get a great long shot of travelling through Mexico City, which must have included some fantastic trickery, including getting on and off cranes and going through false walls. That whole opening sequence is pretty stellar. This is then paired with an unfortunate credit sequence which borders on uncomfortable the entire time. Apparently Radiohead was involved at some point to do the opening theme but this fell through. The song, “SPECTRE”, is a dark and moody piece with some moments of levity, but has a very grand and sweeping cinematic feel to it (and fits in amazingly with the “A Moon Shaped Pool” tracks they were working on at the time). The replacement, “The Writing’s On The Wall” by Sam Smith is too much for me. The verses work all right, but then he keeps hitting this painful falsetto in the chorus. Meanwhile some of the imagery is great, but then we get some nutty allusions to tentacle porn. It’s a shame, because the title sequence is always a golden opportunity to set the stage for the film.

We are given some interesting questions at this point, and that is: what is the role of the 00 program in the 21stcentury? Skyfall gave us a pretty good answer about using raw tools against advanced technology, but this film picks up that thread by asking what if the good guys have that advanced technology? Do we still need the blunt instruments? C brings up a good point – why use assassins when it’s more effective to destroy their reputation and limit their resources? Don’t make them a martyr, and instead let them fade into obscurity. Remove their power. We do see this with White. He wasn’t killed at the end of Casino Royale, while he was a powerful and influential man, and was allowed to degrade into a recluse with very little standing. Sadly, we really don’t get much discussion about this topic, as the movie goes through the same motions as the last few, wherein the blunt instrument Bond just blows everything up and wins.

Continuing on the theme of technology, watch this film against an older Bond film, and the filmmakers made a logical and interesting use of cell phones. Sometimes you’ll watch a film and if it’s an older film, you are chagrinned that so many of the issues that could be solved with a quick call on a cell phone, or if it’s a newer film you might be shouting at the screen to make a quick phone call and fix the issue. This film does not have this issue, as it uses the technology of the day appropriately.

There are a few chase sequences in this film, and those are Bond staples, but the real task was to make them interesting and compelling. And it’s successful! These were great chases with some inventive ideas, and even a way to incorporate some useful information via a phone call with Moneypenny thrown in.

My final point I want to touch on is casting, and this is the most complicated issue. Daniel Craig continues to really seize the role of Bond and own it. The screenwriters and Craig continue to develop the psychological destruction of Bond was a sure treat. After Bond has demolished the suite at the hotel, we see him devolve into a drunk just barely hanging on to sanity. He is used to being an unstoppable force, and when that doesn’t seem to be the answer, he begins to lose cohesion with his psyche. Seeing the mouse scuttle on the floor, a weak animal that lives under cover of darkness, amuses him and challenges him – especially when it gives away the location of the room. Going on with that thought, whenever we see Bond lose composure, it can make the scene gripping.

The supporting cast are mostly very good. Fiennes is an excellent M in this film, and Harris as Moneypenny has the type of relationship with Bond that we expect, in that it borders on romantic, but never gets going. But it’s more realistic than the condescending / paternal relationship that the Bond / Moneypenny relationship danced in the original run. Bautista as Mr. Hinx is brutal. As with his other roles, he conveys a real presence while on screen and his punches look like they hurt. There is a raw masculinity and physicality in his motions, and it really creates an impression. Naturally the fight scene on the train is reminiscent of the fight with Red Grant in From Russia With Love. That has to be one of the best homages.

Christoph Waltz delivers despite some pretty bad dialogue given to him. His allusion to Bond as a cuckoo chick, with him making cuckoo noises to taunt him are a little grating and not at all sinister. Where Waltz delivers is in his mannerisms and the cold in his eyes, and he has such amazing potential to really develop further as Blofeld. Again though, his character is undermined by the lackluster motivation of daddy issues.

Also, during the big SPECTRE meeting, we get a call back to previous SPECTRE members in the last run with two characters who seem to be visual callbacks to Klebb and Mr. Big. I actually had to double check IMDb to see if the characters had actually been named that.

But now for the elephant in the room: Léa Seydoux as Swann. I haven’t seen Seydoux in anything else, so I really am not qualified to give a review of her as an actor in general (although apparently she was good in Blue Is The Warmest Colour). And it is not without precedent to have a French girl in a Bond film. But there’s two ways in which her character portrayal lets the film down, and I’m not sure if its her fault or Mendes’. The first is that she has no chemistry with Craig. I don’t at any point buy their relationship, either romantically or sexually. There is no fizzle between them. There was something really serious and real with Eva Green in Casino Royale. And secondly is her stoicism with her father. I never really came away with the sense of her emotional state towards her father, and that should have been a major component of her character. She should have extremely complex feelings towards him. She should love him dearly but have an anger at him for bringing so much death and destruction into her life. It should drive her character.

Okay, so let’s break this film down.

Mission Completed?

Bond was grounded after failing to have a vacation. He received an unofficial mission near the end to stop the launch of Nine Eyes, the global intelligence network. The MI6 team really kind of did it all together to be honest.

Dastardly Scheme

So by using a subsidiary organization, Quantum, SPECTRE has been achieving two goals: one to slowly convince world governments to reconcile their intelligence services into one network, and the second to slowly convince the British government that the MI6 agency (in particular the 00 program) is obsolete and to disband it.

SPECTRE mostly succeeded, but was undermined by Blofeld’s endless pursuit of Bond.

Best Buds

The entire MI6 team stands behind Bond and helps him out whenever they can. Naomie Harris continues in her support of Bond as Moneypenny, being a reliable source of information to keep him moving. Ben Whishaw steps up as Q, going into the field to lend forensic aid to Bond, and even getting involved in a chase sequence himself. He really should be more careful out there. Bill Tanner and M also show up at the end to take a hands on approach to stop the Nine Eyes.

The Bad Guy and His Goon

I already spoke about Christoph Waltz’s cold portrayal of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, a man who uses humour to mask his insane revenge plot and obsession with having eyes everywhere. Waltz is supremely charismatic, even if some of his writing is subpar.

Dave Bautista plays Mr. Hinx, an assassin who fills a vacancy in SPECTRE for being the go-to for dispatching enemies. Again, I’m a big fan of Bautista, as each role I’ve seen him in is completely unique. He’s strong but funny in Guardians Of The Galaxy, and strong but tragic in Blade Runner 2049. I almost wish we saw more character from him here because his portrayal is just... strong and brutal?

An interesting take on a villain role is Andrew Scott as C, head of the Joint Intelligence Service, but not because of his portrayal. It’s because he is an antagonist for M, not Bond. His arc revolves around M, and the conflict is with M. It is resolved through M’s actions and confrontations. That’s a welcome addition.

Booty Snatched

Two again. The first was Sciarra’s wife, Lucia, played by Monica Bellucci. She had been a name floating around the franchise for years but only now has finally landed as a Bond girl. She’s the oldest woman cast in such a role, but you know what? It really doesn’t matter – she absolutely fits the profile. Bond gives her a contact to help her get out of the country and into safety and... hey what happened with that? Did she make it?

The second was with Swann, after they dispatch Hinx. Apparently there is no bigger turn on than barely surviving a big sweaty fight. Well...and her dress.

Baddies Dispatched

An astounding 31 killed by Bond, a strong percentage of which during his escape from the SPECTRE compound.

Gadgets Trashed

Bond dumps his car into a canal in Rome, after exhausting all the bonus options. He then hijacks a plane to chase down Swann’s kidnappers, and thoroughly demolishes it. And finally his watch explodes spectacularly. I would actually be really hesitant to wear something with that much yield on my wrist.

It Goes BOOM

Eight explosions, including an absolutely spectacular fireball in the middle of the Sahara.

You Misogynistic Pig

I realize as someone who must use every tool at his disposal to save the world, this falls in line with Bond’s objective, but it still feels really slimy that he immediately sets his sights on, follows home, and seduces Lucia on the day of her husband’s funeral.

White Man’s Burden

This is a weird one. While this film was being made, there were no such Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico as depicted in the film. It’s really reminiscent of Carnival in Brazil with Day of the Dead imagery thrown in but apparently Mexico City was so enamored with the idea of it, it’s actually become a real celebration in this manner in recent years.

Best Line

“Your word?! The word of an assassin?!” White is incredulous that Bond is promising anything, much less protecting someone.

Worst Line

“He’s everywhere – everywhere! He’s sitting at your desk, he’s kissing your lover, he’s eating supper with your family!” White, during the same scene, trying to beef up how scary a villain Blofeld is. It’s too hammy and making Blofeld sound like a metaphysical demon stalker isn’t intimidating, it’s a cartoon.

Bond Moment

During a fight scene at the clinic, one of the security guys gets up and approaches Bond. Bond gives him a look, raises his hand and says “No! Stay!” The man immediately obeys, probably seeing it’s not worth the trouble.

Special Awards:

Another Number:

Bond’s car (Aston Martin DB10) was to be reassigned to 009, who apparently has questionable tastes.

Scrooge McDuck’s Heir:

Blofeld is so rich, he has a massive compound in the middle of the Sahara desert with a fully landscaped and maintained yard, that is fully staffed with enough supplies to easily sustain at least a hundred people, with the most cutting edge technology at their disposal.

Worst Spy Ever:

When M is grilling Bond at the beginning of the movie about why Bond just blew up Mexico City, it is painfully obvious Bond is lying which forces M to ground him, hindering his objective. Bond really should have brought M in on it – the last film already established Bond could trust him.

Lately there’s been a question as to whether or not we still need to have the Bond franchise, and what it should look like. “Why can’t Bond be a black man?” some say. Others press on and say “Why can’t Bond be a woman?” And it’s really hard to argue against that when you have mediocre movies as evidence.

And that’s what this film is: an average Bond film at best. The film fails in its script and execution, but succeeds in some of its themes, acting, and quiet moments. So what do I think about radically changing the Bond franchise? I’m really against it, but hear me out.

Bond is a depiction of toxic masculinity. He’s an embodiment of it. Those who glorify him as someone to aspire to miss the point entirely. When Bond films are done well, we get the image of a man who can not hold himself together when he has time to himself. So he perpetually endangers his life. The irony is he hates his job. He drinks himself to numb his pain at having love only once, and having that love taken away from him by his work. He uses people for his ends, and his ends are the tool of a government he’s not even that attached to.

The best Bond films explore this. Even this film shows some of it, in that scene at the hotel with the mouse. Bond is a man who needs to be in control at all times, but drinks himself stupid. He is a white male because he is the worst of the white males. He’s a killer, a tool by a higher power playing by old rules, a man who does not value life, he hates every minute of it, but he will never leave it. The end of this film shows him and Swann leaving together, but that’s part of what makes this movie so unsatisfying – it’s not a logical end point and seems tacked on.

The Bond films aren’t glorifying the lifestyle; they’re a warning. At least... they should be.

2.5 / 5

#James bond #007 #spectre #blofeld #Daniel craig #mi6 #m #sam mendes #Ralph fiennes #Christoph waltz #rome #Andrew scott

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katherinemallory · 3 years

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#5 Everyone’s got their own soft spot

Things have got quite complicated... If you want to know how, check it here: #1 #2 #3 #4

I kept shouting his name, but he ignored me. His silver Aston Martin DB10 has quickly disappeared. Great, I thought. I am soaking wet... And Bond seems to know my deepest, darkest secret. This is even worse than being out of active service.

I went up the stairs to my apartment. It turned out that I had difficulties with putting the key into the keyhole as my hands were shaking. I didn't know what I wanted to do, I didn't know anything, I was so overwhelmed. I just dreamed of taking a *really* long bath. A bath so long that it would take a week, and no one could disturb me... But before I took my wet clothes off, I searched my bag, looking for my phone. I checked on Amanda.

“Hello, this is Amanda Clarke speaking.”

It was the first time I've heard her real surname.

“Amanda, it's me, Katherine,” I uttered, feeling that my body was still shaking. Somehow I managed to keep my voice sweet. “It's good to hear you... Is everything alright? You didn't want to talk to me earlier.”

For a while there was no response.

“Yeah... I'm sorry, Kath,” she said like a person who doesn't have any hope left. “I'm really sorry I ruined everything.”

It was simply painful to hear that defeated tone.

“Hey, Amanda, you did ruin nothing. I asked how do *you* feel?”

There was a long moment of silence again.

“Honestly... I don't know anymore,” said Amanda, and then began to cry. “It was a-all my fault! I-I ruin-ned our mission and n-n-now... the whole se-e-ection is endange-e-red... it's-s... a nightmare,” she sobbed. “E-even M didn't spe-eak to me f-f-for long... H-he wa-anted me ou-ut of the-e office as soon a-as we e-e-entered...”

“Listen, it's not that,” I replied. “Surely he was angry, but believe me, not as angry as he could have been... I assume he just didn't expect us to get in trouble,” I kept wandering around my apartment, talking to Amanda as if I wanted to convince both her and myself that nothing serious has happened. “M will get over it soon. He knows the nature of our job. Just give him time,” I added in a single breath.

“T-t-thanks, Kath... it m-mea-ans a lot... and how-w are-e you...?”

I stopped in front of a mirror that was hanging on the wall next to my bedroom’s door. Hair: wet. Clothes: wet. Mood: would punch anyone who'd be standing near.

“Fine,” I sighed, “apart from the fact I just had an argument with Bond.”

“Wh-hat happene-ed??”

As soon as I realized what I've just confessed, I regretted it. From now on I had to be more cautious. No one could know the truth... or perhaps one person could, but definitely not one of the double-0s. And apart from that, Amanda’s got bigger problems on her mind than some pathetic life stories.

“Nevermind... You wouldn't believe me anyway... just some spy stuff.”

...

I took a long bath as I had planned, then changed into my pyjamas and went to bed. I felt like doing absolutely nothing, but there was one thing I couldn't take off my mind.

Despite being pretty angry at him, I tried to call Bond three times. And guess what, every single time my call went to voicemail. I quickly gave up and sent him a message instead:

James, I know you're upset, but we have to talk. I hope you’ll meet me when you're back... please take care of yourself.

I looked at my phone once again (just to make sure that I have sent the message), and felt that my eyelids began to close...

...

I woke up early the next day, even though I did not set the alarm clock. Perfect, I thought just after I have woken up, I don’t have to hurry. It’s going to be a long day and I have plenty of time to prepare myself for it.

I looked at my phone to check if Bond has answered me. As there were still no new messages, I had only one option left: the smart-blood programme.

Hi Q, it’s Kath. Has James landed in Maldives already?

There was a response within a minute.

Hello Kath. I’m sorry, but I promised James that I’d not tell anyone except M. Hope you’ll have a good day.

I glanced over the message a couple of times in disbelief. Mr. Bond pretends not to care anymore... Bastard, I said to myself as I went to the bathroom.

The fact I got suspended from any field operations, didn't necessarily mean that I didn’t have to show up at the MI6 Headquarters - there was plenty of paper work, waiting there for me and Amanda... M didn’t give us any days off (unlike he did with other double-0s), and it felt like a punishment... A punishment we deserved without a doubt.

I wanted to look elegantly that day. Not only because I needed to improve my mood after recent events, but also because of my meeting with Eve. I always liked to dress-up for the meetings with my friends. I was really looking forward to our dinner, as I missed her dearly when I was in Switzerland. And, what is more, it was her whom I wanted to tell everything about my disagreement with Bond.

There was this gossip spreading in the double-0 section that Eve was head over heels in love with Bond, but I didn’t quite believe it. When we all met on my first day after promotion, I got an impression that from the whole double-0 section it was Bond himself who was most convinced of the rumours' genuineness. He assumed that Moneypenny had a huge crush on him, but Eve didn’t seem too worried about Bond taking me on a date. She didn’t try to interrupt him when he was talking to me, and, what is more, she didn’t even seem interested in our conversation. Maybe Eve was a good actress after all, but my instincts told me something weird was going on there.

I have chosen one of my least favourite suits - a bottle green one (I was never a big fan of that colour, but I guess I’ve changed my mind a bit after realizing *someone’s eyes* were green...) - and a white shirt. Simple, but not too classic. Ideal to make a statement, I thought as I took the last sip of my morning cup of Earl Grey.

...

Both me and Amanda were quite busy with all the paper work we had to do that morning, but we didn't complain. We obediently accepted the "punishment", even though it took its toll... After a few hours of intense work, I decided to take Eve for lunch as I had promised her the day before.

I went through the long corridor on the last floor that led to M’s office. It was a lovely, sunny morning and the walls were *radiant* because of the sunshine that was coming through the windows. Even the colour of the door at the end of the corridor appeared to be a bit more brighter that day.

When I came in, M was standing next to Moneypenny’s desk. He was holding a few pieces of paper, probably some important documents, and it looked like he was telling her a story. M stopped talking, and they both looked in my direction. Eve was a bit astonished, but Mallory smiled at me mildly, almost imperceptibly.

“Good morning, sir,” I said, feeling both uncomfortable and excited to have met Mallory unexpectedly. “Hi, Eve.”

“Morning, 002,” replied Mallory. “Did you come here to see me or Miss Moneypenny?”

His voice sounded warm and gentlemanly. I could tell he was in a good mood.

“I came to see Eve, sir. Forgive me, if I’m intruding, I can come back later...”

“No, it’s fine. Miss Moneypenny can take some time off,” he looked at her, and then at his watch. “It’s time for lunch after all.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Eve, then stood up and walked around her desk. "Hi, Katherine," she added, touching my right arm.

M gave us a glance and put his hand on the doorknob. He was just about to go inside his office.

“Oh, sir,” I said shyly, but loud enough for him to notice. “I actually wanted to ask you something...”

“Yes, 002?” he responded as he turned his head towards me.

Damn, today he’s more hot than ever, I thought. He was wearing a very dark (definitely not black) suit, and one of his blue shirts, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his hair. It looked a little different than usual as Mallory was standing in front of the room's window. The sunlight highlighted his receding hairline and made me focus on the colour of his hair. His magnetic green eyes were observing my face, while he was waiting to hear my question. It was a wonderful moment. I wanted it to last forever.

“Katherine, I’ll wait for you outside,” announced Eve and left us alone.

I followed her with my eyes and then looked directly at Mallory. So hot... if only I could... Damn, Kath! Stop it. Don’t forget that he is your supervisor. And you’ve got a question to ask.

“Sir... has 007 reported to you already? Has he landed in Maldives safely?”

Mallory raised his right eyebrow. The questions surprised him.

“No,” he said calmly, “not yet, but I’m sure he’ll do that soon.”

He glanced at me suspiciously.

“Are you really *that* worried about him?” he asked in his most kind manner, putting the documents on Eve’s desk. Then he leaned against the wall next to the door to his office.

“No, sir,” I lied. “But we had an argument yesterday and I wanted to make sure he’s alright.”

“And do you think I know if Bond’s alright better than the man himself? Try to contact him.”

“I tried many times, sir,” I blurted, “but he ignores me... it seems like he has disappeared...”

Mallory was still very polite, but acted indifferent.

“It’s the fate of glass to break... well maybe it’s the fate of spies to just disappear,” he said slowly.

“Perhaps, sir, but he was really furious...”

At first, Mallory seemed like he really tried to understand my point of view. But I was dead sure he wouldn’t agree with me. He looked through the window and sighed while I was still explaining my concerns. The light hit Mallory’s eyes. He interrupted me, sounding semi-friendly.

“002, please behave like a professional,” Mallory instructed me in his deep, dry voice, as he picked up the documents from the table. “Private business between you and Bond is not a concern of mine. Save your energy for your main objective for today. There's plenty of paper work to deal with.”

Harsh. He went from being understanding to uncompromising very quickly. I looked down and blushed.

"I promise we’ll get the work done, sir.”

I noticed him smile as I lifted up my face to meet his eyes.

“Bond will be fine. Don’t worry,” said Mallory dryly. “Is that all...?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“See you later then, 002. And please remember your lunch with Miss Moneypenny shouldn’t take longer than half an hour.”

...

I agreed to meet Eve outside the MI6 Headquarters, so I took the elevator and went the way down. I couldn’t stop to think about Mallory... I’ve been analyzing the way he spoke to me just a few minutes ago. He sent me a lot of mixed signals. At first he was so understanding, and then he just *had* to remind me of my professionalism... Clearly he wasn’t satisfied with some private stuff going on between me and Bond. And I don't blame M - I can’t imagine myself as the Head of MI6 who has to deal with some conflict, or worse - romance, between my two double-0s...

I went outside and saw Eve, who was wearing a checkered coat and looking more adorable than ever.

“I’m sorry, Eve, I just *had* to talk to M for a while,” I said, being ashamed of myself that I made her wait for me.

“Please, don’t apologize, Kath,” she replied as she took my arm. “Now I’ve got you all for myself. Let’s go!”

“Now we look like a proper couple!” I said, as I turned my head to her and we burst into laughter.

...

We didn’t have unlimited time for our dinner, so we stopped at an Italian restaurant just around the corner. We could have eaten together in one of the cafes in the MI6 building, but we didn’t want to. It was safer to go somewhere more private. Obviously, leaving the SIS building couldn’t guarantee not being eavesdropped by one of your colleagues, but without a doubt it reduced the probability.

“So, Eve, how are you?” I asked, just after we both ordered our meals. “How was the life in the MI6 recently? Tell me everything.”

“Oh, it was nothing special. All the fun has gone together with you!” Eve giggled. “I had a lot of paper work to do, as usual, because nearly the whole double-0 section was away... and Bond kept coming to me and repeatedly asked about your reports to M...” she rested her left hand on the table and placed her head on the hand. “Of course I didn’t inform him of anything. He was convinced that I was aware of the content of the reports, but it’s not true. All the reports always go directly to M. And M forbids me from reading them. I'm sure Bond knows that as a double-0...”

She paused for a moment when the waiter came to our table with her glass of still water.

“And M... he has been quite nervous since you and Amanda left for Geneva...”

She gave me a glance and took a sip from her glass.

“... I don't know why, but he has been kind of irritated all the time,” she continued, looking directly at me. “And it all culminated when the Chief of the Swiss intelligence informed him of the planned kidnapping. It seemed like he was very concerned about that mission. He reacted immediately..."

“Yeah, I noticed his immediate reaction," I laughed, looking at the table. "You probably shouldn’t be telling me that.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t,” added Eve. “But when you work with him every day...” she hesitated, “... you get a bit tired. It's not because of him, but rather all the stuff that is always going on... It can be really stressful sometimes, and after a few intense weeks in a row you feel exhausted... I have *no idea* how M is still capable of leading this whole organization... those emotions can drive you *crazy* if you let them... at the end of the day you have to vent to someone.”

"I get it," I replied, scratching my right hand. "You can vent to me whenever you feel like venting. I wouldn't want you to go crazy."

"Thanks, Kath. It feels good to know someone cares for your own sanity.”

The waiter came again, this time bringing our dinner.

“Speaking of M,” I trembled, “there is something I *have* to tell you.”

"I'm all ears."

“I know that... we don’t know each other for long, but... you’re the only one I trust with this...”

And I told her *everything*. How I left the double-0 section meeting with Bond, how he confessed his feelings for me, and how he accused me of having a crush on M.

"So, what's your opinion on this?” I asked when I finished the story.

“It’s no big deal,” said Eve. “Everyone’s got their own soft spot.”

“I do not follow you.”

“Oh, Katherine,” she replied. “It’s obvious. You’re Bond’s soft spot. And... it seems like M’s yours.”

I looked her straight in the eye, but quickly moved my sight to the flowers in a little vase that was standing on our table. Eve continued to talk.

“Yeah, I remember exactly what you’ve told me *that* day: ‘I’m not interested in men at my age’... And the look on your face when you left his office... I could tell there was something more in your eyes than just the excitement before the mission. Something more... private,” said Eve, looking at my shocked face. “Then this Christmas present.... and Bond’s jealousy. It all fits together.”

She left me speechless for a while.

“I just... I just hope it’s not too obvious...”

“I have no idea, Kath. But perhaps Bond noticed your behaviour because he’s interested in you,” she speculated. “Do you think he really had his reasons to figure it all out?"

“I’m not sure... but probably yes,” I confessed with a worried look on my face. “I told him how M let me chose my double-0 number, how he reacted to the present... Do you think for Bond it was enough?”

“Judging by the way you stared at M earlier today, I think it might have been enough.”

“Hey, I wasn’t staring at him...”

Eve smirked and started to shake her head.

“Right...” I said. “Thanks for being honest with me, Eve.”

I felt really embarrassed.

“Do you think it’s wrong?” I asked, sounding pretty concerned about my romantic feelings.

“Wrong? There’s always some excitement associated with a love triangle!” quipped Eve.

“No, Eve... I’m serious,” I insisted, while looking at the other tables, making sure no one observed us. Even though we were at some random restaurant, I was scared that there might have been someone from the SIS. “Is... is it wrong that I fell for M?”

She smiled at me mildly.

“No. It’s not wrong,” she assured me. “But you'll have to be very careful with what you do about it. Anything you do right now might make things very much complicated.”

...

After the dinner we came back to the MI6 Headquarters, as we both had a lot to deal with. We said goodbye in the main corridor. Eve left for M’s office and I left for the paper work.

“Thanks so much for listening to me, Eve. I just... I just hope that talking about Bond didn’t bother you...”

“No, it’s perfectly fine. You were right to assume it’s just a stupid rumour.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” said Eve. “It used to be true, but it’s not true anymore... I have to go, Kath. I’m already three minutes late and M’s going to kill me!” exclaimed Eve, and then gave me a hug. “And don’t worry much. We’ll come up with the solution.”

“Thank you, Eve. You’re the best,” I replied, as I placed my head on her shoulder and returned the hug. I closed my eyes for a moment.

“Miss Moneypenny,” said a male, stern voice, “would you mind coming back to work?”

I opened my eyes and saw Mallory who has just appeared in front of me out of nowhere.

“I’m s-s-sorry, sir... I’m coming,” said Eve quietly.

Mallory didn’t reply and they headed towards the elevator. I watched them until the elevator’s door have closed.

Eve’s such a great person, I thought. What a relief... I’ve told her everything and now I feel a lot better. But should I feel any better...? I’m in the middle of some stupid love triangle and there is nothing to be proud of. It’s not even a triangle since it’s only Bond who is interested in me.

How is it possible what whenever Bond leaves, I miss him dearly, but when he is close I can’t think of anyone else but Mallory? And when I see Mallory I can barely think straight?

Time to get back to work.

***

To be continued.

#bond james bond #james bond #fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #Gareth Mallory #m #katherine mallory #miss moneypenny #002 #007 #spectre quote #no time to die quote #q

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slamsams-blog · 4 years

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The World Is Not Enough - #24WeeksofBond

Only two more films to go in my 24 Weeks of Bond marathon and already we are just a few months away from the big release of “No Time To Die” (so I hope). This week we are capping off Pierce Brosnan’s career with “The World Is Not Enough” the film that got its title from the Bond family crest motto. It is always rather funny now going all the way back to “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” when Bond goes to learn all he can about genealogy and they throw Bond’s family crest at him with the phrase The World is Not Enough on it - Just a little easter egg for all of you new found Bond lovers that have been following this journey. The year was 1999, Marilyn Manson was the hottest act in music, Stone Cold Steve Austin was in his prime, and Star Wars was coming back...things were getting heavy, gritty, and Bond started to get a little lost.

This was my first time seeing this movie in a really long time and I forgot just how dark is was intended to be. Things have gotten really personal with M and Bond. This is the first time that M had a major role in the plot. Every year before, M is just handing out the orders, sending Bond on a plane to some exotic location and interrupting Bond and Moneypenny’s game of temptation. Not this time. M is now involved after one of her beloved friends dies in an explosion in MI6. There is quite a lot to unpack with this plot, so forgive me if I don’t get to everything. Let me try to summarize this plot in one paragraph...

Elektra King (Sophie Marceau) had been kidnapped by a terrorist named Renard (Robert Carlyle). Elektra develops Stockholm syndrome and falls in love with her captor, they then scheme a plot to kill her father after M’s strategy of using her as bait failed to play out, and steal a nuclear bomb to be used to destroy the city of Istanbul in order for oil to be redirected to a giant oil pipeline that is owned by the company that Elektra now owns after her father’s death. All while making the whole thing look like an accident so Elektra can get by with the millions of dollars and total power over the oil industry. I think that’s all! I did it!

There is so much going on in this movie where it takes a few views to really put all the pieces together. However, I do like the dark and personal direction they were taking it. Something tells me that if they had saved this plot for “Quantum Of Solace” and Daniel Craig’s acting chops, it would’ve been a fantastic movie. Unfortunately Brosnan, while excellent in his own right, just can’t pull off a script of this weight. Pierce is great with the everyday Bond mission films, but when things start getting a little emotional or edgy, that’s when I start to lose him.

One key element to this film is that it sadly marks the end of Desmond Llewelyn’s career as Q. Shortly after this film’s release Desmond would pass away in a tragic car accident. Desmond’s contribution to the Bond series in indescribable. He was the face of the Bond gadgets that made the films so much fun over the years. Although he had only been used in a few scenes here and there in each movie, his long term impact would be incredibly significant. Llewelyn’s tenure spanned the first 5 Bond’s, first appearing all the way back to From Russia With Love. It’s a streak of films with a character played by one actor that can’t be measured up to and the Bond series will live on in his honor. Thank you Desmond Llewelyn for everything!

Llewelyn was retiring anyways, so they wrote John Cleese in as his replacement which was such a smart choice. Although the Q character had become comical over time - John Cleese was brought in from Monty Python to carry the comical Q flag into the future. Unfortunately for Cleese, they went in a different direction after Die Another Day. On top of the well known John Cleese coming in, we were also force fed Denise Richards as Christmas Jones...ugh eye roll.

Denise was a pretty obvious sex appeal choice here as that was starting to become the trend. Casting a well known actress as the leading Bond girl starting with Terri Hatcher, then Denise Richards, and finally Halle Berry. The character Christmas Jones was written for one reason, and one reason only...for the final line of the film where Bond says...(and I can’t even type this out without gagging)...”I thought Christmas only comes once a year”. Yeah, they went there. While watching this movie in the Theatres I was starting to get the feeling that Bond was getting a little too over the top with the one liners and the sex puns. I didn’t know it then, as I was watching the film sitting in the aisle because the place was packed, but I was ready for something different. I thought we deserved better. Then Die Another Day came out, and I for sure knew it then.

The World is Not Enough sparked the beginning of the end for Brosnan. He came out guns a blazing with Goldeneye and had a solid second outing with Tomorrow Never Dies, but The World is Not Enough was starting to feel like campy Brosnan is not enough.

This movie has it perks though. The pre-title sequence is the longest pre-title sequence in the franchise’s history, and is packed with exciting action which includes a high speed boat chase with Bond doing triple barrels and adjusting his tie under water. It’s in this pre-title sequence we see the beginning chain of events taking place that set up the rest of the film. One of those key events is when Bond jumps off the boat and grabs onto the rope thats attached to the hot air balloon that is holding the woman Bond is chasing. Bond tries to tell her that he can help her but she says “Not from him” and shoot the gas can, triggering Bond to just let go, dislocating his shoulder from the impact. Pretty exciting stuff for just the opening.

Sophie Marcou is also excellent in this film. She plays the victim so brilliantly that you are legit shocked at the reveal of her being the one who set everything up. Again, it’s the bad guys & gals that make you like them are that are the best villains. Elektra ranks for me as one of the best Bond villains just because you don’t, or don’t want to, suspect it. Bond is also becoming increasingly infatuated with her which makes the story even more deep.

But to me, this could’ve been a great film, but it was just too bogged down with the complication of the plot, the hokey character traits (Renard being immune to pain), the weird saw copter, and the blatant use of over sexualization in the Christmas Jones character. Also, Denise Richards is just kind of bad. There’s hints of sarcasm with her character giving her a bit of a rough around the edges feel, but overall it just comes off as bad acting.

There is much to like about this film, however, there is also much to dislike - I want to like this movie, I really do, but my typing fingers are saying otherwise. But that’s it for me - what did YOU think?

Reviews from Friends:

Tyler Dahlgren

I didn’t have a problem with Brosnan in this one. I mean he didn’t write the dialog. And I think he does fine with the edgier/emotional parts. He has to go a good chunk of the movie playing off Richards who is an absolute anchor dragging every scene to the dark abysmal depths. I think she’s honestly just that bad. It was after this one that Pierce started talking he was done. Can’t imagine why.

24 Weeks of Bond returns, for the last time, next Monday with -

Moonraker

#James Bond #Pierce Brosnan #the world is not enough #n64 #denise richards #24WeeksofBond

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buildarocketboys · 6 years

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Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do (Nothing New)

Freddie finds out, early on in their friendship, that Bel’s interests lie with women as well as men.

I wrote bi!Bel and Freddie being a totes supportive friend. Because Bel deserves that.

Crossposted to ao3

“She’s so intelligent, and funny, and I just think it’s incredible that a woman like that can also be so incredibly beautiful.” Bel is gushing, and she sort of knows it, but who else is she going to talk to about Miranda, if not Freddie? It’s not like he’ll cotton on, anyway. Freddie is eye-rollingly, almost adorably naive when it comes to this type of thing. He laughs. “You sound like you have a crush on her,” he says, jokingly. Bel freezes. Freddie, being Freddie, notices immediately, but merely raises an eyebrow for now, awaiting a response. “No I don’t,” Bel snaps, too quickly, and God, if it hadn’t been obvious before, it is now, and Bel just wants to melt into the ground. Freddie’s mouth forms in a round ‘O’, of surprise or realisation, Bel is not entirely sure. She’s not nearly as adept at reading Freddie’s emotions as he is at reading hers. “You do have a crush on her,” he says, shock and conviction mingling in his tone. “No!” says Bel again, a reflex. Then, “yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She does know - she’s known she’s liked girls, in a way other girls weren’t supposed to like girls, before she knew she liked boys - going to an all girls boarding school will do that. Freddie gives her that look, the one that tells her he knows she’s lying, and she has to look away. “Moneypenny,” he says, and she hates the way that nickname has taken root, hates even more how it makes her heart burst with warmth and affection, even though she hates the concept of it on principle, “you know I wouldn’t…judge you for that, right?” He lays a hand on her arm, but Bel still won’t look at him. “It’s fine, honestly.” She chances a glance up at him and is relieved to see him smiling. Her pulse rate slows down, just a touch. “I’m happy for you.” The words sound genuine and Bel breathes easier. “Really?” she has to ask. Freddie nods, grinning, and she can’t help matching his expression. Then he leans forward on his elbows, the expression of burning interest he always wears when chasing a particularly important news item, or indeed, Bel thinks, when talking to her, on his face. “So is it women and men then?” he asks conversationally, and from anyone else it would be incredulous, or interrogative, or both, but from Freddie it’s just…a question. “Yes,” says Bel. She feels full and comfortable, in the way one does after a satisfying meal and a bottle of wine. “I always have.” And it really is just that simple.

“She’s pretty,” Bel comments when Freddie rejoins her at their table in the pub, drinks in hand. He sets hers down in front of her. “Who?” he says. “That girl you were talking to. At the bar.” “Oh,” says Freddie, vaguely, looking back towards the bar. They’d exchanged a few pleasant words, he supposed, but he had all but forgotten her by the time he had got back to Bel. He flashed her a grin. “For me or for you?” Bel look scandalised for the briefest of moments before letting out a delicate snort. “I’m perfectly fine here tonight,” she says. She leans in conspiratorially. “As long as you are,” she whispers in his ear. Freddie blushes, has to catch his breath before answering. He hates and loves when she is like this, in equal measure; tipsy and flirtatious and physically affectionate. He wants to bathe in her. “I’m fine, Moneypenny,” he says, daring to lean back into her. She lays her head on his shoulder for a second. Then, “good,” she says, decisively, sitting up to take a sip of wine, and then kissing Freddie on the cheek.

“Coming out tonight, Bel, darling?” Lix asks her, six months into Bel’s job on the newsreels. The shine had worn off very quickly, for both her and Freddie, once they had realised that George was never going to let them go after (and certainly not run) the most important stories. Lix was a rare bright spot. Bel shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said. “I’ve got a date.” “Oh?” says Lix, lowering her glasses so she can look at her properly, a twinkle in her eye. “Who’s the lucky chap?” She catches Freddie’s eye from across the office. He knows who she’s meeting tonight, and it’s not a chap. “We met at a mutual friend’s engagement party,” she says, which at least is true. They had rolled their eyes at the gushing and wedding talk of their friends, and ended up snogging in the coat cupboard. It had been a good night. “Well, from the smile on your face, it seems like you’re going to have a wonderful time, whoever it is,” says Lix, smirking. “Enjoy yourself, my dear.” She pats Bel’s arm. “Oh, I will,” says Bel, winking clumsily at Freddie, and Freddie grins back, trying to ignore the twist of jealousy in his stomach that’s become commonplace every time Bel has a new beau.

“Marry her, and no one would know what I am,” says Adam Le Ray, and Freddie may be naive when it comes to these kinds of things, still, but he knows what he’s talking about. “You should have cared,” he says, shaking the man, as if that’ll get some sense into his drunken brain. “You should have bloody loved her.” Because Ruthie deserved better, regardless of Adam Le Ray’s demons. Later, he goes to Bel’s room and they talk of spies and Ruthie and he clarifies what 'in trouble’ means. He recites e. e. cummings to her and doesn’t ask if she’s ever felt scared because of 'what she is’, felt a bubble of fear any time she’s flirted with another woman or held her hand or kissed her. Or even look at her. Freddie doesn’t ask this, because he suspects he already knows the answer.

“Adultery, fornication, lesbianism-” Bel pauses, and Freddie surely can’t be the only one to notice how her voice is strained, the way her face twists when Isaacs chokes on his tea - but maybe they don’t notice, or attribute it to the former qualities, both of which Bel has been a participant of, “are all considered sins, but not crimes. It falls to us to ask: why?” Bel, for her part, is not even thinking about Freddie, for once. She is back in school, a 13 year old praying by her bed, asking why she had to fall for her friend, why he had to make her sinful, when her lips tasted so good and she felt so nice pressed against her. Asking how could that be wrong, not getting an answer. Going to the school chapel and asking the priest (because Bel is nothing if not tenacious), asking his opinion on it, being patted on the head and asked why such a nice little girl (and isn’t that patronising, Bel hates being patronised, she is not a little girl) is asking about such horrible things. Bel feels sick. It wasn’t long after this she gave up on the whole idea of religion for good, but it still feels like a punch to her gut, to know that in so many people’s eyes, in this country today, she is sinful, even if there is nothing they can do to stop her. Not legally anyway. That’s why Wolfenden is important, she thinks, before rushing to meet Rosa in her office, and trying not to think about how pretty she is.

“Look at her, look at her!” Bel exclaims, pointing to the beautiful girl on the television screen. “She looks exactly like a girl I had a crush on at school!” “What school did you go to?” asks Freddie, mock-astonished. “Way to make me feel inadequate, Moneypenny.” But he says it with a smile, and Bel pushes his arm playfully. “I never said I dated her!” she says. “She was well out of my league.” “No one’s out of your league,” says Freddie, stating it like the simple fact it is, and she smiles and giggles and kisses him, and God he loves being with her. “I love you,” she says when she draws back, and she thinks it’s a minor miracle that she can say that at all, after all they’ve been through. But then, them being here at all is a minor miracle. But it’s Christmas, and they’re drunk, and happy, and sprawled across each other on the sofa while watching reruns of old films and sighing over pretty actors and actresses, and Bel intends to enjoy it fully. “She’s so intelligent, and funny, and I just think it’s incredible that a woman like that can also be so incredibly beautiful.” Bel is gushing, and she sort of knows it, but who else is she going to talk to about Miranda, if not Freddie? It’s not like he’ll cotton on, anyway. Freddie is eye-rollingly, almost adorably naive when it comes to this type of thing. He laughs. “You sound like you have a crush on her,” he says, jokingly. Bel freezes. Freddie, being Freddie, notices immediately, but merely raises an eyebrow for now, awaiting a response. “No I don’t,” Bel snaps, too quickly, and God, if it hadn’t been obvious before, it is now, and Bel just wants to melt into the ground. Freddie’s mouth forms in a round 'O’, of surprise or realisation, Bel is not entirely sure. She’s not nearly as adept at reading Freddie’s emotions as he is at reading hers. “You do have a crush on her,” he says, shock and conviction mingling in his town. “No!” says Bel again, a reflex. Then, “yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She does know - she’s known she’s liked girls, in a way other girls weren’t supposed to like girls, before she knew she liked boys - going to an all girls boarding school will do that. Freddie gives her that look, the one that tells her he knows she’s lying, and she has to look away. “Moneypenny,” he says, and she hates the way that nickname has taken root, hates even more how it makes her heart burst with warmth and affection, even though she hates the concept of it on principle, “you know I wouldn’t…judge you for that, right?” He lays a hand on her arm, but Bel still won’t look at him. “It’s fine, honestly.” She chances a glance up at him and is relieved to see him smiling. Her pulse rate slows down, just a touch. “I’m happy for you.” The words sound genuine and Bel breathes easier. “Really?” she has to ask. Freddie nods, grinning, and she can’t help matching his expression. Then he leans forward on his elbows, the expression of burning interest he always wears when chasing a particularly important news item, or indeed, Bel thinks, when talking to her, on his face. “So is it women and men then?” he asks conversationally, and from anyone else it would be incredulous, or interrogative, or both, but from Freddie it’s just…a question. “Yes,” says Bel. She feels full and comfortable, in the way one does after a satisfying meal and a bottle of wine. “I always have.” And it really is just that simple.

#the hour #bel rowley #freddie lyon #my writing #fanfic #lix storm #pls enjoy #merry christmas eve!#also why does tumblr hate me i was trying to put page breaks in and i swear there's not logic to when the hover menu comes up at all

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