WEEK 2 DRABBLES ARE HERE!
Now, let’s refresh your memory.
For the second week of LDWS, our true l- our writers were asked to write a drabble between 150 and 200 words, based on the word deck from the point of view of an outsider.
THEY DID SUCH A GREAT JOB!
(this is a purely illustrative gif of an outside observer of the goings on at Q’s flat, not a prompt)
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#1
Title: Eulogy for the Aston Martin Author: Misha / artsytarts Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (mainly directed at vehicles) Summary: Around 007, life and death go hand in hand.
The moment I leave solid ground and fly, pointed directly at the deck of the ship, I know my life is forfeit.
I realize now why the other machines pitied me after I was assigned to the man they call 007. I see his blue eyes blazing as he concentrates, gripping my steering wheel. They say he’s careless, but judging from the few days I’ve carried him, I know different. He’s not careless. His destruction is calculated. Only once I was obsolete, once he depleted my ammunition, blew my doors off, and pushed my motor to breaking point did he make his decision: To use me as his missile.
I count the milliseconds as the deck rushes towards me. Without a word, 007 pushes the ejector button and I fling him out into the open air, out into safety and freedom.
I am to be his sacrifice.
Before I hit the ship to perish in a blaze, I decide: I have no use for resentment. Like so many machines before me, I have granted him life.
That must count for something.
#2
Title: All In Author: sorion Warnings: none Summary: Bond is handy with cards, and Felix likes to watch.
There are few things as satisfying as watching James Bond clean a table in poker. Felix has learned that pretty much the moment he's met Bond, and the entertainment value hasn't changed in the years that have passed.
On the contrary: Felix has learned some of Bond's tells. Not the kind of tells that would let him win against the insufferably unbeatable agent, but Felix recognises the spark that lights up in Bond's eyes, only seconds before he wipes the confident smirk off an opponent's face with a winning hand.
Another thing he can see is whether Bond enjoys the game for its own sake or just really hates one of the other players. He knows it's the latter when the opponent asks for a rematch and offers the deed to a hotel in lieu of liquid funds, and Bond agrees, provided that they use a new, unopened deck of cards.
The opponent blanches near imperceptibly, and Felix smirks into his drink. Oh, yes. Very satisfying.
#3
Title: Voyeuristic Displeasure Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: seeing everything is not so fun
Bond's hands were big and rough, stronger than they had any right to be.
He had been observing them with varying degrees of interest over the years, stuck behind his computers or out in the field - air straining in his lungs with the knowledge that the other's life depended on how fast and how smart he could be.
He watched Bond strut along the deck, hand poised low on someone's lower back, head tilted down in a way that suggested he was focusing on whatever he was being told, seemingly enraptured in them - Bond played the part well but he knew what signs to look for, to spot the seams of the almost perfect façade: he darted glances around, favoring his right side, trying to keep under the eye of the cameras that he knew to be in friendly hands.
The hand slipped lower, fingers teasingly dipping beneath the edge of the brightly colored bathing suit his companion was wearing - shameless.
Almost teasing.
He stood up with a weary sigh, empty mug held aloft: he was going to need a strongly brewed cup of tea, if he had to watch Bond flirt his way into another bed.
#4
Title: International Man Of Mystery Author: Merc / moon_of_mercury Warnings: none Summary: Some players never make it to places like Casino Royale. Others... acquire nice cars on the way.
She has encountered many interesting characters in her career, some more remarkable than others. Poker tends to attract extraordinary people. It isn’t always easily definable: something about this man arrests her attention the moment he walks up to the table, asking to join the game even though she’s already cutting the deck.
He flashes a cocky smile at everyone, reads his opponents like a professional, and pleads with her to let the unlucky Mr. Dimitrios bet his car to win his money back. She complies, amused. Such self-sufficient arrogance would be offending if not for his friendly politeness. The way he eyes the man’s wife is not mere casual interest either. Those intense ice-blue eyes have already seen every opportunity. His body language may seem relaxed, but there’s an awareness in his movements that hints at explosive potential underneath the calm surface.
For an exhilarating moment, she revels in being a part of this man’s story. It’s as clear as day that he’s used to playing for much higher stakes. She wonders what the real prize here is.
Dimitrios has lost again even before this stranger shows his cards. Men like him bend luck to their will.
#5
Title: Crossroads Author: Hexiva Warnings: None Summary: James Bond visits a fortune teller.
The man’s cold blue eyes look past Serenity as he steps into her fortune-telling tent, and she shivers. His aura is like ice, a vast glacier with life frozen deep down inside it. He reminds her of a mobster from some old movie, wealthy but brutal.
“What do you want to learn?” she asks.
“The future,” he says, distractedly. She follows his eyes to a bearded man standing at the high striker, speaking in Russian.
She shuffles her deck. “There are two paths before everyone,” she says. “This choice is yours.” She draws two. “First path - The Lovers, the Star. Companionship and connection bringing hope. Choose the Lovers' path, and you will find a new beginning. A second chance.”
“And the other?” he asks. His tone is flat and apathetic. He doesn't believe in hope.
She draws again. “The Emperor, the Hermit, both reversed. Rigidity and repression bringing isolation and misery. Choose the Emperor's path and you will end up alone.”
But the man is looking past her at the Russian, and he stands. “Thanks." A wry little smile. "But I think I already know what path I’m on.”
She watches him go. In his shadow, she sees the Emperor.
#6
Title: Observation Deck Author: Anyawen Warnings: none Summary: Mallory and Tanner contemplate employee relations.
Mallory surveyed the scene before him, sipping his scotch and trying, fruitlessly, to tune out the horrid rendition of 'Deck the Halls' playing overhead.
"We should do something about that," Tanner said, coming to stand beside him.
"About what?"
"That," Tanner replied, gesturing in the direction of Bond and Q. "Them."
The Quartermaster, decked out in a horrible Christmas jumper, looked exasperated. Bond, naturally, looked smug. They appeared to have entirely forgotten the holiday party happening around them as they argued. Flirted. Whatever.
"Trying to stop that from happening would be an exercise in rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic," Mallory said with a bemused smile. "Utterly futile."
"I don't want to discourage them," Tanner protested as Q cracked an unwilling smile at something Bond said.
"What, then?"
"A little push? Mistletoe? Lock them in a closet?" Tanner suggested hopefully.
"That might be construed as stacking the deck in your favor," Mallory observed mildly.
"You know about the bet?" Tanner spluttered as Q stole Bond's champagne glass and drained it to Bond's mock outrage.
"Spy," Mallory explained succinctly.
Tanner nodded wry acknowledgement.
They continued their silent observations a few minutes more, then Tanner asked, "What day did you pick?"
"April first."
#7
Title: Nighttime Invasion Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: vague references to blood, swearing Summary: Q’s cat is not impressed by 3am visitors
Thunk.
A crumpled heap hit the floor. She hissed, tail bushy, ready to pounce on the intruder.
“Oof!”
Gunpowder Man was invading her space.
Again.
“Q?” Gunpowder Man whisper-shouted. He sounded different. “Are you awake?”
Something dark dripped from his nose.
She sniffed cautiously. He stank of copper and salt. Still, it was better than the strong, sour reek of last time.
A light came on in Father’s bedroom.
Gunpowder Man lifted himself up and wobbled to the sofa. Walking on two legs seemed harder for him than usual.
“Bond?” Father came traipsing up behind him, making the room light up. “What the fuck? It’s 3 in the bloody morning. You couldn’t wait?”
“What, you’re not happy to see me?” Gunpowder Man used the false-happy tone Father used when he tricked her into The Basket.
Another dark drip.
“Don’t be stupid,” Father tsked, petting Gunpowder Man softly on the shoulder. That should help; Father gave the best pets. “Why don’t I put the - Christ, Bond! What happened to your nose?”
“It’s not broken. She hit me when I told her I was staying.”
“I thought psychologists were meant to keep their cool,” Father sighed. “Come on, let’s clean you up.”
#8
Title: A confession of a deck Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: James Bond would be lost without me.
I'd like to think that James and I are not just colleagues, but friends.
You know, we’ve been through a lot together. Cottages in forgotten lands, first-class casinos, important fights – I’d always been with him and helped him along the way.
But this game is different.
“That’s not fair, James,” the opponent says, watching his stack of cards.
“I’m not cheating, Q.”
The opponent snorts. “You may be the best player the MI6’s ever had, but even you can’t be THAT good, 007. Aces again? That’s not very subtle.”
“You were the one who said poker is just basic math and all about the art of reading people. So stop whinging and take off your shirt.”
Beg your pardon?
There is something disturbing in the air. I don’t think I want to give the good cards to James anymore. “Happy?”
The shirt falls to the floor.
“Immensely.”
The next round, Q loses his pants. I’m starting to think that this isn’t even about poker!
“I won.”
Finally, it’s over and I can relax again. Even though I’m not sure what this young lad can have that James Bond would be interested in… oh.
#9
Title: Camouflage Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: None Summary: A certain agent and their partner are in the field. The local perspective.
Grace's eyes were drawn to her first customers on the deck overlooking the harbor. They were as unlike as could be but Grace would have known they were together with just a glance. The subtle leaning in, the eye contact, the briefest brush of a hand. Not honeymooners but the established kind of connection that took time and patience. The younger man was dark and slender and had a tan that was honey gold. The older one was broader and blond and that one sent tingles up her spine. Her brother and his military buddies were like that, poised and watchful. She didn't see a weapon but suspected he was armed. They'd arrived three days ago in a beautifully restored vintage sailboat, walking the less traveled portions of the island.
Passing Grace, Mimi muttered “Spies posing as tourists.”
Gracie scoffed at Mimi's imagination. What were they spying on here, conch recipes? Then a new boat dropped anchor. The blond saw it first and the dark haired one checked the tablet he always seemed to have before nodding and finishing his chowder.
The pretty sailboat pulled up anchor the next dawn and the new boat was found derelict two days later.
#10
Title: Missing Him Author: Nana-chan Warnings: Summary: Austen the cat watches as her human pines for the Blond One
From her perch on the living room sofa, Austen looks disapprovingly at her bespectacled human. He is out on the deck again, smoking and no doubt pining for the Blond One. He is a relatively new addition to the household and has been gone for several days now, as is his habit. Keats—that dummy—misses him, too, as he meows and gazes forlornly at the front door.
She herself is unsure of the Blond One, but she doesn’t like it when her human is all sad and distracted, reeking of cigarette smoke and unresponsive to feline overtures of comfort. She feels powerless to help him. How did one man become so essential to her human’s happiness?
Then a key turns, the door opens, and there he is. The Blond One dumps his bag in the foyer and heads straight for the deck, pausing only to give her a brief head scritch. She watches as he folds her human into his arms and starts grooming him in that strange way humans have, with their mouths fused.
She hears her human laugh, gladness and relief evident in his tones, and finally, she makes up her mind about the Blond One.
#11
Title: Origin of a Voyeur Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: There was a legitimate reason to start going through all the Q Branch security footage, dammit!
After the small accidental volcano destroyed lab 7b, no one could recall who’d last checked the fire suppression system. Exasperated, R pulled up the security videos in hopes of spotting someone. The recording of Q and 007 was entirely unrelated, but she just couldn’t look away.
Q had been helping Bond dress for some formal event, tuxedo carefully tailored to conceal the equipment Q was arranging around his body. The scene resembled a squire helping his knight, except...
R bit her lip at the way Q stroked his fingertips down the front of Bond’s suit to check the drape of the fabric, evading Bond’s hungry gaze with a sly little quirk to his mouth. Then Q leaned close, reaching around to run his hands over the back of the jacket, lingering a little over Bond’s well-proportioned backside before he sank to one knee and brushed along the sides of the trousers.
“There, all decked out,” Q murmured.
Bond reached down to cradle Q’s chin in his hand and Q looked up with a provocative lick of his lips, the heat almost visibly simmering between them. Bond took a deep breath, his fingers tightening, and Q ‘s eyes widened and then slid shut as he turned to brush his lips against Bond’s thumb. When Bond made a low rough sound, both Q and Rani swallowed at the same time.
Then the outer office door slammed and she hurriedly shut her computer down, blushing. But she saved a private copy first.
#12
Title: The Bet Author: Venstar Warnings: none Summary: Bets are made, there will be blood.
Oh, yes. It was going to happen. The tension was palpable in the room, yes he said palpable in his interior monologue. Just fucking get closer. Do it already. He was going to win that bet today by fuck. He leaned forward in anticipation, eyes locked on target. Yes. Yes….Keep going...almost….
*AH-OOH-GA!! AH-OOH-GAH!! AH-OOH-GAH!!*
Fuck, goddammit. Not again! He narrowed his eyes. There was no way another attack by water was happening. Dammit. Fake or not they were going to have to clear the god damned building. He sighed heavily as he turned sad eyes back to where 007 and Q had been quietly eyeing each other. They were gone. “What the fuck?” Where? There! The orange of Q’s cardigan turned a corner. He was not about to lose the 'THEY FINALLY MADE OUT DAY' be! He ignored the rest of Q’branch’s leads as they ordered the evacuation.
“Davis?”
Fuck. It was R.
“And just where are you going? Exit is that way.”
He turned with hunched shoulders to find R smiling at him. Her eyes flitted past him to where Q and 007 had disappeared to. “THAT bet will only be won when it’s officially my day.”
#13
Title: Specs and the Lady Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: None. Summary: Louis has been a bartender for a long time, but occasionally patrons can still surprise him.
The Friday night crowd seethes around the bar in waves, laughing and calling out their orders. Louis has been a bartender a long time, which means he can keep up with the steady roll of vodka-tonic-scotch-and-soda-bottle-bottle-pint and still keep an eye on the floor for trouble.
Trouble like the man in specs and a loud jumper bumping into an over-drunk man in a worn football jersey, spilling both their drinks.
Specs’ mouth forms the word ‘sorry,’ but Jersey isn’t having it. He grabs Specs’ jumper, but before Louis can even call for Paul—their unofficial bouncer-bartender—a lady slides in between them, curly hair and cunning eyes, and pulls Jersey’s hand away.
Jersey shoves the lady, and viper-quick, she decks him. Jersey goes down.
Louis lets out a surprised laugh. The lady looks quite pleased. Specs looks exasperated, though Louis doesn’t know why; if he had someone like that in his corner, all squared shoulders and terrifying heels, he’d be delighted. Then again, from Specs’ half-laughing attempt at chastisement that carries in the surprised lull in noise (“Really, Eve?”), this isn’t the first time it’s happened.
“Just take Jersey out,” Louis bids as Paul moves in, “Specs and the lady are fine.”
#14
Title: Eyes on You Author: oldestcharm Warnings: n/a Summary: The Quartermaster is enjoying his afternoon and Bond is far too concerned about his garden.
She's good at her job. So good, in fact, that she's currently hidden from sight with her scope right on MI6's Quartermaster himself. He's sitting on the deck of his house, enjoying the sunny weather with a girly drink in one hand and a laptop resting on his thighs. He's typing furiously, paying no attention to his surroundings. All she has to do is take one shot.
Then, the sprinklers turn on.
She does her best to not make a sound even as her phone buzzes.
4:27 pm:
There are over twenty cameras on the property.
4:28 pm:
I suggest you get out of my hydrangea bush. James worked rather hard on the garden and he won't be pleased to find you there.
A click behind her — probably a gun. "You've ruined my garden."
She turns around and finds herself face to face with the legendary agent. She cringes. "I'm... very sorry?"
Bond does not look amused. "You're fixing this before you leave."
"You're not going to kill me?" she asks, heart pounding.
"Q wants you for his team." Bond sighs, looking more annoyed than anything. "Either you accept or I'll shoot you."
Well, it's not exactly a choice.
#15
Title: Over It Author: MrKsan / starrboned Warnings: Canon-Typical language Summary: Tanner is nervous.
Ferrying through the maze of the Thames tunnels was often a nerve-wracking job. More so when his passengers were nervous. More so when it was the Chief of Staff who was sitting across from him, restless, tap-tap-tapping on his cardboard box.
Tanner gave Jack an awkward smile as they docked, climbing the narrow ladder just as the Quartermaster stormed into view.
“I’m going to skin the twat alive, Bill!“ he hissed, making Tanner stumble to a stop. “Didn’t even try to cover his tracks.”
Jack grinned. Only one man could piss Q off that much.
Tanner sighed, resigned. “I’ll inform M-”
“Already did,” Q huffed.
"Oh?"
"Not risking my career for him again, Bill."
Jack dared a peek at the couple; the conversation was taking an unexpected turn.
Tanner blinked, once, twice, before seeming to come to a decision. He shoved the cardboard box at Q.
“Thought we could share breakfast, since our dinner last night was interrupted? Bad timing, of course- ”
"Bill,” Q said, and Jack saw the silver of a smirk. "I would love to."
Pulling a crumpled cigarette from under his heavy coat, Jack couldn't help but grin to himself.
MI6 and their drama.
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