Bond’s New Flatmate (Chapter 17)
“The Y/N whisperer”
[James Bond x Reader]
[Plot: Looking back, all those months ago, your relationship with James wasn't all for nothing. There was a time you could trust him. However, trust now proves a very big word for anyone you pass...]
[Trigger Warning: Anxiety Attack, Swearing - as usual]
[A/N: Another flashback? Okay I know this is a heavy chapter at almost 6k words! I know the plot is a bit wild and up in the air but I promise it'll all come together soon! Also Chapter 18 is action packed! Now we’re starting to look at James and the reader, especially for this where my heart drops! I also don’t know if any of you have been to late night board games cafés but they are the world’s best invention! And Q is back at it again stirring the pot! Again Jonathan is an actor of your choosing! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Much love, x]
7 months ago:
Another long week of work left you really struggling. As you sat inside the library, looking through a book, your phone pinged. A text message. Overtime, you had forgotten about how awful you were at texting and progressively it declined to the point you just stopped answering. Your phone pinged once more, this time irritating you.
Quickly, you swiped the phone, noticing a missed call from your ex-husband, wondering if you had any plans. Then there were a few texts a from other colleagues, but then there was a text from James. Actually, you hadn’t saved his name as that on your phone. He was titled under, ‘Martini Man’, a name he wasn’t too fond off after you bullied him over such a delicacy over a drink. Ever since then, it stuck and he hated you for giving him such a title too. Your phone buzzed again, removing you from your thoughts. James, again. He was just as bad as you at texting so this had to be serious. You hadn’t seen him in little over a week as he was sent over to the Bahamas. Originally, he invited you, but you were so swamped with work you had to decline. PING. Okay, so you had to answer. But then you saw an image attached to a message.
-
From: Martini Man
To: You
Saw this and it reminded me of you.
-
You looked at the image, a selfie of James beside a crashed car. You stared at the image smiling. The bastard knew how to irritate you. Especially considering the running joke was your driving skills against Bond’s impeccable ones. You also noticed he looked incredibly happy in the photo, as if he had been dying to show you this. Then another message came through.
-
From Martini Man
To You:
Stepping in the car with you is like going into cardiac arrest…and I’ve done it before.
-
Finally, you responded.
-
From: You
To: Martini Man
Be careful Bond. Don’t want to slip into another one without the car. ;)
-
Before you could finish typing, your phone started to buzz. It alarmed you but this time, you realised it was James.
“You are so impatient. I was just typing.” You answered.
“Really? Your response rate is a minimum of three working days, I don’t know what to expect.” He sassily retorted. That did make you snort with laughter. “No, no! Wait, I’ve got another one. My WiFi works a lot faster than your response time.”
Okay the second one made you roll your eyes but you had to admit, you loved bringing out this side to him. “Is that it? You get it all out of your system or am I going to be blindsided by another attack?”
“I can assure you, I have nothing else up my sleeve. But anything to get you to respond to me over the phone.”
This makes you smirk, “And what if I rejected your call?”
“You wouldn’t want to know what would hit you if you came home.” You could tell he was smirking over the phone. “I take it work’s going well.”
“Oh yes, it’s as glamorous as flying into the Bahamas on a life-threatening mission. I mean I’m surrounded by books that’ll topple over me any moment now.”
“You’re still working? Isn’t it 10 pm? You should be hiding in your room by now.”
“And you should be enjoying the sun and those drinks, Martini Man.”
“Don’t test me.” You could hear the growl over the phone, something that warmed you up inside. Even though you couldn’t necessarily look at each other that way, you couldn’t help but keep the flirty banter going. It didn’t mean you couldn’t admire him.
“Which library are you at?”
“What’s up?” James usually called you out of the blue now and again just to talk in the evenings, but you knew he was up to something.
“Alright, you got me.” He quickly added, “I’m booking you an uber, there’s a package I need you to collect for me.”
“Right now? I’m busy.”
“You’re in the home that accommodates the world’s knowledge. You have all the time in the world to go there.”
“Now’s not the time to be going all nerd on me.”
“I’m just stating simple facts, Y/N.” Ooh, whenever he said your name it sounded like honey. “Can’t believe you don’t even remember my love for books.” He sounded almost disappointed.
“We’ve spoken about books? Since when?” There was a pause over the phone. Then you started laughing.
“I’m joking, of course I have fallen trap to your many discussions on modern and classical literature. You only mention it a dozen times over the phone when I ask, what you’re doing.”
He couldn’t help but laugh again. “Look, as much as I’d love to indulge myself in whatever you’re reading, tonight is not going to be that night.” You could hear shuffling somewhere in the background. Then another man’s voice, asking him where he was headed. “Hi, mate. I think the place is called, wait. Y/N, which library are you in?”
Your eyes widened. “Woah, seriously mate I could be halfway across town! Don’t get a cab-”
“What’s that library you mentioned the other day. You said you liked it because it was named after this academic you were telling me about. What was the...Oh that’s it! Hang on, let me show the driver the address.”
“James, don’t you dare-”
“Yesterday's deconstructions are often tomorrow's orthodox clichés. Driver will be thirty minutes.” With that, the phone cut. He was bluffing. He had to be, right? You knew the hint. He knew the library you were in!
But you admired how daring he was, so you stuck around inside.
But now forty minutes passed and with no update from James you were convinced he was bluffing. It was getting late anyway. With that, you packed your bag, heading downstairs. You were prepared to leave when you heard a voice in reception, one that sounded all too familiar.
“You’re talking about the Cayman Islands.”
You froze in your tracks. The man talking to the librarian was James, his back turned to you but you could tell it was him from the leather jacket you’ve seen him wearing before. James checked his watch.
You could see the receptionist swooning over him as he turned to you proudly. It took you a moment to do a double take - something was off. Then it hit you. He was wearing glasses! The man put his hands in his pockets, grinning from ear to ear. “Stuart Hall Library. Wise choice.”
“Oh my god you’re specky!” Was all you could blurt out. “What did the Bahamas do to you?!”
You couldn’t help the irony of it all. You shared intellectual conversations with the man but HE often called you a nerd, which you proudly took as a title. However, this man had beaten you to it.
James rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha. Very funny. I lost my contacts on the way here.”
He had a tan going on, bringing out his eye colour. You could even see bags under his eyes, he probably must’ve landed recently. How did he make it so far without going undetected?
“Contacts? So you’re saying your eye colour isn’t-”
“Oh it’s more than real. When we get back, I’ll show you.” Smooth. You had to admit he was a smooth talker. The receptionist put her hand on her cheek, watching James intently.
“Nice try but I think you should save the lines for someone who would appreciate it.” His smile dropped. You knew the game too well. Eventually, you spoke again, “I thought you weren’t due for another week?”
“Well, I came in this afternoon, wanted to surprise you for an evening without being surprised by Q.”
God those eyes were intense. Even with glasses. “Jesus, Christ. Don’t you want to go home and get some rest?”
“No rest for the wicked.” He winked, putting his hand on your arm briefly. You looked down at it, and knew he was trying to gain the upper hand.
“So, what I’m hearing is you want to drink til you drop.” You mumbled, “Alcoholic.”
James laughed, “What can I say? Living with you makes me want to drink.” You playfully shoved him.
“What’s on for tonight?” You finally said as the two of you head outside.
“Well I was thinking we can go out for a few drinks-”
The receptionist’s face dropped. He saw you shrugging, it didn’t surprise you at least. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out. And no, before you say anything we're not going to your average Spoons."
As you entered the pub, you both sat in the corner, listening to jazz music in the background. It was just a regular pub, nothing you haven’t seen before. So without hesitation you order a pint. And then a couple of more. And then even more. Five pints in and the two of you are engrossed in a conversation that felt nonsensical when sober but a lot to you when drunk.
"You know I don't usually do fancy dinners."
"Well that's a shame." James chuckled. "I could definitely see you fitting in fancy places, drinking cocktails…” He leaned over to your ear, if he moved any closer you could’ve sworn he would’ve heard your heartbeat, “Wearing a marvellous dress." He finally said.
"Is that what I want or something that you want?"
"Maybe it’s something we both want. Minus the marvellous dress.” He winked, turning back to his drink. There was something about this particular trip, you didn’t know whether it was the fact he wore glasses, his dark blue shirt or the amount of alcohol but the urge to take him up on his offers were a lot stronger. Maybe you should slow down on the drinks.
"Can you even afford that?" You blurted.
James shrugs. "You don't even like that stuff anyway so you won't be able to find out." His snarky response did liven the mood. You could feel something different going on, but knowing yourself, you blamed the glasses and assumed you were talking to someone different. But he was bolder, smarter...hotter.
Last rounds were called and now it was closing time. As you expected the night to come to an end, the two of you stepped outside, surrounded by buzzed drinkers. Neither of you knew where you were heading, just continued to walk. Something caught James’s tongue. The new silence nerved you. He looked like he wanted to say something desperately.
“Who died?” You ask. This snapped James from his thoughts. “What?” He responded.
“It’s just I didn’t know we were doing a moment of silence." You said. He let out a laugh but it was off, you could tell. “Go on, out with it.”
“I’ll be going away in a couple of days. Just for a few weeks. The arms dealer I was after seems to have a lot more contacts than I thought.”
Your eyebrows raise, “Oh. Right. That’s cool.” Alright maybe a part of you did feel slightly gutted that he’d be leaving but you refused to give him the satisfaction. The flat did seem a lot emptier without him these days. Just as you were starting to get comfortable. Your reaction did surprise him.
“I mean you’re already used to it, but I might be off grid for a little while longer. Think you could hold the fort that long?”
“Well you do what you’ve got to do.” You shrugged.
“I’ve already got our rent covered for at least a month, so you don’t have to work overtime.” He mentioned. How could he? Had he been worried about the hours you were taking?
“You didn’t have to do that.” You scolded.
“You didn’t let me finish. I’m expecting a call from the landlord in the next five days, telling me I’ve got to pay a higher rate for insurance, just because you’ll blow up the bloody flat by then. At least I want us covered by then.”
Okay, that made you laugh. But soon you realised, the night had probably come to an end. As you fell into a short silence, James made an amused hum. “Who died?”
“Very funny, asshole.” You snapped back. “So should we get the tube or-”
James seemed deep in thought for a moment, “I’m not too sure I want the night to end.”
This surprised you.
“Are you the one dying?”
“No. What??!"
"You make it sound like you're dying."
"No! I don't plan on dying any time soon either. So what do you say?
“I have no plans so whatever works for you, works well with me.”
There was something electric. You couldn’t tell if it was the amount of gin you had or if it was the cool breeze that made you realise you were suddenly hot but there was something. A part of you realised James could see it too. His tall figure towered over you, eyes shining underneath the lamppost as he moved one of his hands in his pockets.
“Great.” Was all he could say.
“Great.” You responded.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me?”
“With drinks...three. Without drinks...three.” You said, this caused him to erupt into laughter.
“Well, too bad.” Was all he said. Too bad? Oh how this man tested your patience.
James held his hand out for you to take. This only made things worse for you, but you continued putting on a brave face.
As you stepped into the bar, ‘Yesterday Morning’ by The Infatuations filled the area quietly. Mahogany and blues filled the small space with a few couples and groups of friends sat together dining and drinking but the one thing that got you...were the swings for seats! It was a late night board games café!
“Where’d you find this place?”
“I’d been coming here ever since I first moved to London.”
And you spent hours there, laughing and drinking together for the next three hours. Of course, you were much better at chess than James, so it was believable he flipped the board as he was caught in a difficult position. You shared drinks and amusing stories of the last few weeks with each other as the old friends you were becoming. To the outside, you seemed like a couple smitten with each other. But you knew this man. He was the flatmate you enjoyed irritating. You soon realised that you enjoyed his company a lot more than intended. Boy, the next few weeks were going to be hard.
The next few weeks were a breeze, until you reached that one day. November 16th. Where everything fell apart. You dreaded reaching that fateful day, being alone. Over the last few years, all you knew was in order to get through it, you would surround yourself with work. You would visit places, you would do your best to block out the memory. The guilt. The trauma. You couldn’t go through it. Not again. The day started off with you staring at the ceiling in silence. You were going to get through this, that’s what you told yourself. But then all it took was for a mug to smash and you found yourself hyperventilating. Your heart rate increased. Your hands were shaking and you couldn’t stop even if you tried. Something clicked in you and you couldn’t go back to the way you were.
That had been the last few days before the door clicked open in your flat. James returned with a weekender bag and a takeaway bag. “Hello? Anyone home? Y/N?” There was silence. “Coming back from the airport, I couldn’t find any of the burgers from that place, you like so shit kebabs will have to do."
James froze when he heard the television faintly playing in the background. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a gun. He made his way towards the living room but saw you there...on the floor, head resting against your knees. Bond put the gun away and settled beside you. You couldn’t remember how long you were like this. It must’ve been hours today, which wasn’t an improvement from the first attack.
“Want to talk about it?” He asked.
You shook your head. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, wiping the fresh tears on your cheek. Usually, something this intimate you never allowed. Especially with James. But your body refused to protest.
“Need a drink?” You nodded. He didn’t have to press you to answer. You appreciated that about him.
James got up and poured a couple of bourbon on the rocks. He returned to still see you on the floor. Your hands trembling. You really were in a numbing state of mind. It was terrifying. James sat back down on the floor, placing the drinks beside him. By this time, his jacket was already off and thrown aside. The trembling came to a slow stop when a large hand covered yours. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, a soft way of bringing you back to him. His cologne was just enough to make you realise you weren’t alone. You didn't pay much attention to his messy state from his stressful mission or how close he was to you. He lifted his arm, pulling you into him so you could lean on his chest. So you could listen to the sound of his gentle heartbeat. So he could bring you home. “I’m here now. It’s alright, mate.” God the fresh tears couldn’t stop for you. All he could make out from you was a small sniffle and rest his head against yours.
You both sat in silence for ages, television still playing faintly in the background. Neither of you paid attention, you didn’t have to. Eventually, Bond turned to you.
“That bastard. Q stole my bloody onion rings.”
You gave a hum, it was the best you could give to hide your sad smile. Bond took time to think, for some reason he hated seeing you this shattered. He couldn’t understand why but he knew he wanted to see you smile.
“Whatever this is, for what it’s worth know you’re not alone.”
And then the floodgates broke. You quietly sobbed while James held you tighter. You were like this for ten minutes and James’ shirt was soaked but he didn’t care. Eventually you pulled back, wiping the last of your tears when you had nothing left to give.
“I wish I could tell you-”
“I get it. Talking is hard.”
You nodded, giving a sad smile.
“God, you’re having a bad day? My onion rings were stolen, I spent five minutes trying to get our bourbon just right but now its diluted into practically water, and my shirt is wet.” That finally made you laugh.
“I’m sorry about that.” It was all your wavering voice could say.
“You should be, its Tom bloody Ford.”
You laughed again and playfully pushed him. “There it is. That smile.”
“In all fairness, when you said drink, I thought you meant tea."
"We both know I don't mean that. That reminds me actually, we’re out of tea bags. You might want-"
"No, you-"
"Go to the shop and get them." You both said at the same time. You both laughed for a moment.
"We really are lazy." You realised.
“I don’t think that’ll ever change. Now, I’ll go warm up the food and get fresh drinks. Will you be alright here for a couple of minutes?”
You nodded. James wasn’t one for sentiment but in that moment, all he could wish was to take away your pain. Even for a split second. He had never seen you this way. Shaking, the way you were. Broken, the way you were. He squeezed you once more before heading to the kitchen.
And in that moment you realised, despite how much you disagreed with each other, couldn’t stand each other at times, even went out of your way to make each other miserable – he cared. He truly cared for you.
Arms are wrapped around yours as the television faintly plays in the background. It was 3am. You hadn’t realised you nodded off, snuggled up in a blanket on the sofa...but wait a minute. You were in arms. There was only one person you lived with. Instantly, you looked up. James was fast asleep. Comfortable. Underneath you. Oh boy. This was weird. How had you even managed to lean into him in this position? You were busy mocking his suit from the other side of the room hours ago after he made you feel better, forcing him to change into shorts and a t shirt. Where he looked most comfortable. You too had changed into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. What you hadn't realised was how comfortable you were next to him. It was odd, something you weren't used to. The flirty banter between you was always light and playful but being this close to him made you feel something else. He let out a few light sighs, probably a subconscious relief that he had nothing on his mind. Or did he? You could never figure him out these days. If only you could, especially after days like today.
Then you realised how much of a burden you must've been. Pressed against him. So you made a plan. Move, get him tucked in and run off to your room so at least you could get some sleep alone. But when you shifted you hear...
“Don’t.” His rough voice said. “I just nodded off.” OH his tired voice was doing something for you.
“Then go to your room.” You retorted with a smirk.
“It’s too far. Let's just go back to sleep." He held you tighter, leaning back so you could see his chest rise and fall. Was it weird? That your flatmate was this cosy with you? Hang on. You didn’t even have to question it. This IS weird. Any other situation, any other man it would’ve been fine. But this is James, for goodness sake. He’s the forbidden fruit.
“Does it hurt?” You asked, seeing the number of bruises and cuts spread across his face. He must’ve had a rough time but put it all aside to pay attention to you.
“Not as much as you talking while I’m trying to sleep.” He mumbled. This dickhead. You thought. His phone pinged. You caught a glimpse from the table. Usually you'd ignore it. But then it pinged again, raising your curiosity.
“Um, who’s Madeleine?”
“No one. Now go to sleep or we’ll both retire to my room.”
The threat made you chuckle. Then his phone pinged again. You picked up the phone, eyebrows raised as the screen flashed.
“Can’t wait to see you again, my love...Bond is she your girlfriend?”
“Hm?” He still didn't move.
“James! Your girlfriend just messaged you! Get your arms off me!”
“What? What!” His eyes snapped open, “Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“So, who’s Madeleine then?” Like a deer caught in headlights, Bond snatched his phone from you.
“That’s enough looking through my stuff for one day.” He lay back down. He could feel your eyes on him without even looking back. "She's no one. Its nothing."
"I don't think that's nothing."
"Are you feeling better?”
"You can't do that-"
"Can’t do what?”
“God, you’re annoying.” You snapped, “Stop deflecting.”
“Annoying? Well I find myself rather amusing actually.” He said, rubbing your arm. “So, it’s safe to say that we’ve slept together now. Am I right?” He winked. But he knew your reaction. He held your arms tighter before your fight or flight response was even initiated. You laughed with him, “I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that.” James held his tongue for a moment, squinting his eyes then let you go.
“For the record, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Whatever you say, Martini.” You chuckled, getting up from the sofa and heading to your room. Then he realised something…What was that phrase? He hated seeing you go, but he loved watching you leave.
Present Day:
You and Q sat in silence as the knocks on the door emerged again. You were about to step up when Q stopped you.
“I’ll get it. Just relax.” Q answered the door, and turned back to you confused. “There’s no one here.”
“What the hell?” You snapped, getting up to investigate yourself. He was right. There was no one at the door.
“I don’t imagine Eve’s neighbours to be children either.” Q mumbled.
“Maybe they thought no one was home. We did just sit and listen to the knocks for ages without doing anything.” You grabbed the door and slammed it shut.
After ten minutes, the feeling of being trapped inside the flat started to get to you. Even though it rained, you could do with some fresh air, but Q immediately protested.
“We are not leaving this flat. Did you not just hear the knock on the door?”
“Alright, so what if I carry a knife with me?”
“Y/N, I cannot let you do that.”
“What other choice do I have? If I stay here any longer, I will lose the plot.”
As you stood outside, taking in the air, sipping on whiskey...“I thought you aren’t allowed to drink on medication.” Immediately you rolled your eyes, remembering that baritone voice, filled with concern. Jonathan.
“I should seriously call the police on the men I’m surrounded by. This is stalking.” You mumbled, refusing to turn around.
“Y/N, I’m not giving up on us but right now we have a bigger matter to discuss and if you don’t-”
Slowly, you turned. “Because I cannot be fucked to tell you to go away, I’m going to let you in. You have a lot and I mean a lot of explaining to do.
Here you are, sitting with irritation on your face to face with the other man you vowed to kill. God this man was annoying. He manspreads across his chair, top buttons on his shirt open, but doesn’t wear an arrogant smirk. But two days ago, you were sure you were going to pounce on his man. Now he gave you the ‘ick.’
Q entered the room, concerned at the sight of you staring at your phone. Jonathan sat across from you, seemingly waiting for an answer.
Q turned to Eve, who seemed to be enjoying the action. “What’s going on?”
“Y/N is refusing to listen to anything Agent Hicks is saying. She’s actually pretty good at it.”
“Y/N.” Jonathan starts, “Could you please just look at me so I can explain myself.”
Your phone started ringing. Quickly, you answered. “Hello? Yes, who - oh my god Rory! No, I’m not doing much you slimy bastard. How’s the tech gig going? Do I want a free laptop? Hell yes! Stay with me on the line, I’ll make an order with you.” You laughed, walking towards the door. “No, just working. You know how it is. One twat messes up the entire mission, a couple of snakes are left behind to stab you in the back. No, of course not! You’re lying!” You gasped, leaving the room.
Jonathan looked down, letting out a large huff. Q on the other hand, continues to smirk.
“Seems you bring out an ugly side to Y/N. Care to explain how?”
Jonathan turned to Q, a sharp glare towards the tech genius, “Why? Because you’re the Y/N whisperer?”
“I guess I should be given that title as her husband, don’t you think?” He winks, turning back to his laptop.
Jonathan’s face drops. “What?”
As you re-entered off the phone, Jonathan rose to his feet. “Y/N, we need to discuss-”
“Sorry, did you hear something? I think my phone was buzzing.” You said turning to Q.
“I don’t exactly know-“ He started.
“I mean according to your job, we don’t listen to people who work with criminals, do we?” You say with certainty. This emits a frustrated sigh from Jonathan.
“Y/N…”
“Especially backstabbing, double crossing, conniving, manipulative daughters of criminal masterminds. But maybe that’s just me.” Jonathan sighs a moment, realising you weren’t going to look him in the eye at all. He stands from his seat, approaching you now. Your breath almost hitches when you remember how deep those eyes were. How you once snuggled into those arms at night, you felt safe in your place in the world. All worries, non-existent. But then you realised...this man was a snake! This asshole listened to you pour your heart out for hours about the growing frustrations this woman brought, only to not to disclose that he knew her! He listened to all your stories about James - who’s to say he wasn’t actively plotting your demise by disclosing the same information to his employer? No. You weren’t going to let yourself get betrayed. Not again.
Slowly, Jonathan’s hands reached out, almost anxious to touch yours. Then it reminded you, this man took you in when you had nowhere else to turn. He answered your calls at 3 in the morning, both drunk and sober, just because you wanted to talk to someone. He promised that he was different. You were certain he was different. As his hands touched yours, your eyes slowly moved to his, hope in his eyes...only for you to swat his hand away!
“Touch me and I’ll cut off your fingers.” You snapped, causing him to jerk back. “I can’t believe I thought you were hot.” Q chokes on his cup of tea, in hysterics. “I really need to find a better taste in men.” You mumbled leaving the room. Suddenly, Q’s laughter stopped. Jonathan looked over at Q, visibly angered.
Jonathan followed you into the guest bedroom.
“Look, Y/N, do you not think that any moment we shared together was real? The trips, late night calls? Geneva? Because all of that was more than real to me. Everything I’ve told you about myself, all the time I’ve invested with you has always been real to me.”
You step back, keeping your distance, giving him a round of applause. “Wow, you are incredible! Just an incredible actor! I really don’t understand why your parents discouraged you. You’re better that than an agent.”
“Y/N I have been nothing but honest with you from the beginning. I literally told you I am an agent that works for a different division.”
“Honest?! I don’t even know your last name! Is it even Hicks?”
“You want to go there? Then how come you didn’t tell me you were still married?”
Your mouth instantly shut. Uh oh. “No, no. Now’s not the time to get quiet on me, love.” Jonathan pulled a seat from the desk, to sit in front of you. “I may not have been entitled to know about this but considering we’d grown closer over the months, makes me wonder, were you ever going to tell me that you were still married?”
“I could say the same about your trips to see fucking Swann in Switzerland.”
Jonathan huffs sitting back. “Don’t change the subject. If we’re going to talk honesty, maybe we should first discuss the fact you left me to find out from your husband that you were still married.”
He almost caught you. “I’m still married but we’re planning on divorcing.”
“He’s still hung up on you, you know. Doesn’t want to show it but he is. I know when I see it from a tech nerd.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“But you’re not into him?”
“You have no right in knowing.” You snapped.
“You thought I was hot. I think I should know.” You were about to leave the room but his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your eyes widened and he quickly refrained himself. “At least let’s talk this through.”
You left the room, leaving Jonathan irritated but when you returned, there was a bottle of whiskey in your hand and two glasses. You poured in each one and handed him a glass. “Go on then, start talking.” Boy were you ready to keep the barriers held high for the next man you thought to even glance at.
“You can’t tell anyone, but I was seeing Dr Swann because a client of hers was trying to find James. He vanished two weeks before, heard my division specialises in finding rogue agents but before you jumped on the plane, I was about to drop a file to the double ‘o’ division. Swann is a problem for another day, I’ve already been keeping tabs on her after claims of suspicious activity. But Longwell? James is involving himself in a problem that involves parliament and I’ve been told I can’t let him get involved. He is too reckless. Any wrong move and we are in an international crisis. Potentially facing war.”
“Longwell is funding for world terrorism. Bond’s been tracking him for the last seven months. That’s why he was in the Bahamas.”
“The Bahamas?” Jonathan suddenly fell quiet.
“You can’t stop him because he makes you uneasy.”
Jonathan seemed off. He started to scratch his head, “This is not my decision, this is coming from head office.”
“So what? You’re just going to arrest him?”
“No. But we need to know his whereabouts because Longwell has been tracking him. If James is found, he dies.”
“How do you know that?”
“Dr Swann. She has been dealing with Longwell, who might I add has been a client of hers over the last eighteen months.”
“So while she’s been seeing James…Longwell and her have been in cahoots.” You mumbled.
“Except she doesn’t know that I’m aware of that.”
Your eyes widen, “Shit. While she’s been keeping you busy, you don’t even know where James is. He’s in trouble. We lost connection with him some time ago. We’ve been trying to get in contact with him ever since but there’s been nothing.”
“Please don’t tell me he’s flown after Longwell.”
You nodded.
“You don’t know what you’ve just started.” He finally said.
