Hey guys- not a TLNRS update, I know. But not something I’ve been writing instead either! I actually found this on my phone.
It’s not complete- more of a scene. And it won’t ever be completed. But if you want to run with it- go for it.
Sorry it’s so long without a page break.
Warnings: some strong language, talk of suicide. Not as dark as it sounds.
You work at MI6 in the Admin/Research dept. working on cover stories and recon work for locations/marks/etc.
You work with a handful of other people in the dept and you have a good pal in your desk mate: Katelyn.
All of the agents-Double Ohs included - go into the Research Dept frequently to get folders on their missions and their marks. Everybody knows you-everybody likes you. You’re competent and your peers usually have you look over their work as well when dealing with difficult marks or missions.
You jumped on the couch as the door slammed open, bouncing off the wall. Scrambling to your feet, you looked over to see James Bond filling the doorway, blue eyes spitting sparks. You took a moment to admire him, his aura of danger and confidence dark and practically pulsing around him, before you realized with a start that he was glaring at you.
“…Bond?” you asked hesitantly and, apparently taking that as permission, he stalked into your small apartment in the heart of London. The door was shut in much the same way as it was opened and you gave a wince for your poor neighbors.
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, voice pitched low and dangerous. You shivered at the tone, though it wasn’t in fear. Oh dear. You were in trouble.
“Um,” you looked around in confusion at the half eaten tub of ice cream and the movie playing quietly in the background, “no?” It was stated more than asked. Especially since he seemed to have an answer to his question already.
“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he almost snarled, making his way over to you. Your eyes, about the size of dinner plates by now, widened even more.
“What?” you squeaked out. Bond, the James Bond was all but foaming at the mouth and he was going to stay?
“Going to interrupt any plans of yours?” he bit out and you blinked.
“Plans? Um, no…” A low rumbling sounded through the apartment .
“Are you….are you growling at me?” you gaped in disbelief. Suddenly, you found yourself gripped by strong hands, Bond an inch away from you.
“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,” he ground out and the anger that had been slowly building at all his growls and snarls finally sprung forth.
“What are you talking about, Bond?” you growled right back. He blinked for a moment before his face darkened even further than before.
The man stepped closer, if that was possible until you were flush against each other. You felt your stomach flip and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.
Blue eyes stared down at you and the hands gripping your shoulders loosened ever so slightly before he gave you a small shake.
“Katelyn told me about your conversation,” he intoned darkly, an eyebrow rising in a challenge to deny it. Your brow furrowed.
“Conversation? What conversation?” Katelyn and you had had many conversations, the most recent of them centering around the man in your apartment, but you had no idea what topic could have Bond so…well, upset was a bit tame for his current mood….
“Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out?” he growled out, effectively bringing your thoughts back to him. Find out….? Find out!
Your eyes widened. Katelyn wouldn’t…she wouldn’t have told him about your conversation yesterday when you’d said that you were pretty sure you were attracted to 007! No, she wouldn’t have thought that was a big enough deal to tell the Double-Oh in question. Everyone thought that man was attractive.
“You should know by now, that when I claim people as mine, I take an interest in their lives,” Bond continued, eyes glaring down at you. Apparently your silence had already condemned you.
You fought the major blush that threatened to make itself known at his wording. Claimed you as his? Oh, if only!
“Bond,” you started, voice mellow and as soothing as you could make it.
“Don’t,” he interrupted, low and dangerous. You sighed.
“What are you so worked up about? I’m sure everyone’s thought it at least once!” you defended yourself. Really, the only possible answer to his mood was that Katelyn had told him, for whatever reason, that you found him attractive. And apparently, he didn’t like that.
Ouch. There went your pride and self esteem.
“That’s your excuse?” he demanded, voice sounding almost incredulous. “So because everyone else has thought it, you can too?”
“Not quite what I meant,” you muttered as his grip tightened once again. “I just meant that it shouldn’t be a big deal to you! I’m not the first!”
The room went deadly silent and you hesitantly gazed into the glacier eyes above you. You didn’t understand what was so terrible about you finding him attractive, (were you that repulsive?), but he really was making too big a deal out of it. You were shy! It’s not like you would’ve ever said or done anything to him!
“Never say it shouldn’t be a big deal to me,” Bond suddenly hissed and you felt a bit uneasy at the look on his face. You weren’t afraid of him, but you knew what he could do and you also knew that he had a reputation for being unpredictable and out of control. You were in hot water and just starting to realize it.
“Really, Bond,” you murmured, trying to salvage the situation before somebody, most likely you, got hurt, “it’s really not that big of a deal. Can we just…forget I ever said it and you ever heard it?”
His hands tightened on your arms even further and you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.
“No,” he answered, voice deadly soft, “I will not forget it.” Suddenly he ripped himself away from you and started pacing the floor furiously.
“Damn it, Y/N! Why can’t you take this seriously?! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what was going through my head when Katelyn told me? No, of course you don’t. Well, let me tell you something, Y/L/N,” he snarled, “if you want to commit suicide and ‘end it all’ then I suggest you find yourself another job. Because if you stay at MI6, you’re mine and I am not going to let anybody, least of all you, take you away from me!”
Once again, silence rang out in your apartment and you stood there, gaping at Bond.
“Commit…..what?” you asked, mentally going over all your conversations with Katelyn. You telling her that you were going to ‘end it all’ was never part of any of them. YOu were actually quite happy with life where you were, thank you very much. Granted, it’d be better if you had a certain someone to share it with, but suicide? Yeah, never touched on that topic.
“I know your vocabulary is better than that,” Bond spat, finally stopping his pacing. You flinched at the acid in his tone.
“Expected her to squeal? No kidding. I figured that you didn’t want her to, if our little conversation a minute ago was any indication.”
“No, Bond, I was under the impression—“
“That I didn’t care? Yeah, got that one too. Well here’s a news flash for you, I do. And I will. So I suggest that you take up some counseling because you’re not going to die on my watch.”
“Bond,” you sighed, “honestly, can I get a word in? I’m not going to commit suicide.”
“Damn right you’re not,” the agent in front of you growled. He was suddenly right in your space again. “I’m going to stay here tonight with you and tomorrow, you’re going to a therapist.”
You backed up a step, feeling a bit…flustered, not to mention frustrated, with his close proximity.
“Will you just listen to me?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in ill repressed ire. “I am not going to commit suicide because I don’t want to! I never planned to and I never talked about it with Katelyn!”
The silence that descended on you was thick and you crossed your arms against your chest, glaring at the agent in front of you. He looked torn between not believing you and wanting to.
“You never mentioned suicide to Katelyn?” he asked finally, voice lower and not quite so angry this time around.
“No,” you said quietly, relief coloring your voice that he finally seemed to be listening to you.
Blue eyes bored into your own, but you stared back at him, refusing to show anything that could be taken as guilt or uneasiness. You’d finally gotten the man to listen to you. You didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt you word.
You were not going to a freakin’ therapist.
“And you’ve never thought about committing suicide?” he pressed, once again stepping forward until he was in your space.
“No,” you repeated, with only a hint of impatience. Really. Why did he believe Katelyn so readily but not you?
“Then you won’t mind if I stay here tonight,” he suddenly said, eyes once again daring you to challenge him. Which, normally, you wouldn’t. But tonight, he’d broken in, interrupted your coveted “alone with a movie and ice cream” time, yelled at and accused you of shit you didn’t actually do and now demanded you house him for the night.
Yeah…not in this lifetime.
“I do mind, actually,” you shot back, eyes narrowing at the agent. “I don’t need a babysitter and now that I’ve told you that I’m not suicidal, there’s no reason for you to stay.”
You turned to the couch and went to sit back down. “Especially with that attitude of yours,” you muttered under your breath. Really, there were days it was like dealing with a five year old. Pretty sure he was supposed to be acting older than you.
“Y/N,” came the warning growl from behind you and you rolled your eyes.
“Seriously, Bond, you can relax, okay? I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to ‘end it all’ and I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” You finally turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Unless you’re going on another mission…?”
The Double-Oh stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No mission yet.”
You nodded once, “Good. Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You turned your attention back to the movie that had made quite a bit of progress since you’d been so rudely interrupted and pretended to not hear the soft cursing behind you or feel the glare being shot to the back of your head.
There was blissful silence in the apartment for a few minutes, (aside from the movie), before Bond finally piped up, “Really, Y/N? Harry Potter?”
You shot your own glare at him over your shoulder. “For your information, I happen to like Harry Potter. And you’re not even supposed to still be here, so no dissing the movie that’s playing.”
To your surprise, annoyance, disbelief and, you admit, slight pleasure, Bond moved around the couch arm and sat down not two inches from you, grabbing your tub of ice cream off the coffee table and spooning some into his mouth.
“At least you have good taste in this,” he muttered, blue eyes locking onto yours. It took you a second, but you realized he was teasing you. You weren’t aware the man had a playful bone in his body!
Once you got over your shock you managed to answer back, “It’s been known to happen.” You plucked the spoon out of his hand and took your own bite of the chocolate ice cream. “But this is mine. Go grab your own.”
“Now, now, Y/N. I think you should share.”
“Ha!” You barked a laugh, “Whatever for? You broke in here, remember? I didn’t bust into your house!”
“I would advise you never trying that,” he said, suddenly serious. “Good way to get shot.”
“Bond,” you said back just as serious, “I don’t know where you live and I don’t want to know.”
He tilted his head. “Yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because I’d probably be tempted to come over and try to shank you in your sleep,” you said with an angelic smile.
Bond met your smile with a dastardly smirk of his own.
“Are you sure it’d be to shank me?”
You gave him a shove with your shoulder as you spooned more ice cream out of the tub still in his hands.
His chuckle made a shiver run up your spine and you realized he needed to leave. Like, now.
Putting the spoon in the tub, you leaned back onto the couch and turned back to the movie. “When you leave, would you put that in the freezer and lock the door on your way out?”
He leaned back as well, putting one arm on the back of the couch behind you before he answered. “I’ll put it in the freezer and lock the door, Y/N, but I’m not leaving.”
You turned your head, unintentionally pressing your cheek against his forearm. You had to physically stop yourself from jerking away as if burned. With Bond, showing any kind of weakness wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
And he was definitely a weakness of yours.
“Whaddya mean you’re not leaving? I thought we decided that I didn’t need a babysitter.”
“You mean you decided you didn’t need a babysitter.”
“Bond,” you growled and he shrugged. Shrugged! As if you were discussing the weather!
“Don’t call me a babysitter then. Call me something else.”
“Oh, believe me, Bond, there are several things I’d like to call you,” you muttered hotly, “and none of them are particularly flattering.”
The grin he gave made you almost give in and do pretty much whatever he wanted you to. Someday, this thing you had over Bond was going to get you into so much trouble.
“How about we just say that we’re two friends hanging out, alright? You don’t have to call me anything.”
Since moving to England, you didn’t have a whole lot of friends you hung out with, but you were still pretty sure that it only qualified as ‘friends hanging out’ if both parties were willing. But, you’d already missed about a third of the movie and could feel a headache coming on so you just nodded.
“Fine. Whatever you say, friend.”
Bond gave a small grunt of triumph and relaxed further into the couch after depositing the ice cream on the table once again. Your head was still in contact with his arm, but he was warm and solid next to you, so you decided to just enjoy the rare closeness you had with the man and focused on the rest of Harry Potter.
It wasn’t until the movie was over and Bond was putting the ice cream away that the shit hit the fan. Again.
You were in the middle of stretching when Bond came back into the living room, barefoot and no tie.
“Hey, Y/N, you want—“ he cut off abruptly and you stopped stretching to look at him expectantly.
“Do I want what, Bond?” you asked after a few moments of silence, but the man wasn’t paying attention to you but rather looking at your arms.
Looking down, you saw why.
“Wow,” you murmured to yourself, “I thought I had until at least tomorrow before those showed up.”
“What happened?” Bond demanded, narrowed blue eyes never leaving the dark bruises around your upper arms.
You’d never been good with taking things very seriously, especially if you didn’t find them to be a big deal, but even you had to admit that saying, “Considering the work you’re in, I’m surprised you don’t recognize your own handy work,” was a bit too…crass.
But, it’d already been said so you just gave a small rueful smile and apologized.
Figures, the apology would be what set him off.
“You’re apologizing to me for hurting you?” he demanded, voice loud once again. And here you’d thought you had met your quota for yelling today.
You groaned. “Oh for the love of…. Really, Bond? My neighbors are going to think I’m in some kind of domestic situation if you keep yelling. So, shush and help me get the house ready for sleeping.”
The super secret spy agent looked at you for a long moment while you patiently, (or as patient as you could be), waited for him to come to his senses already so you could get some shut eye.
“I should go,” Bond said after a moment. You crossed your arms.
“James,” you said softly, taking a step towards him, “I really would appreciate it if you stayed.”
The man in front of you scoffed, though blue eyes didn’t leave your own.
“A few minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
You scoffed yourself. “That’s because you were going to babysit me and thought I was suicidal of all things. Which I’m not. But I would like you to stay if you’re willing.”
Bond regarded you for a moment before stepping forward until he was directly in front of you. Warm fingers gently trailed over the darkening bruises on your arms.
“You’re sure you’d like me to stay?” he asked quietly, eyes boring into yours.
You gave a gentle smile. “I really would like nothing better.”
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