James Bond

[From here
Bond had run into a man in the park whom he had known. He'd been close with Alec at one time, both of them 00 agents. Alec had betrayed them all and Bond had thought he would never see him again. The last he'd heard he was sleeping with the enemy.

They had locked eyes and there was a moment of recognition, a moment of consideration, and then both men drew at the same time and exchanged shots. A woman screamed as Alec rocked back and started to run. Bond started after him only to realize he'd taken a round. He ought to go direct to medical.

Q's place was closer, though.

The agent's whole shirt front was soaked through with red when he pounded on Q's door and then shouldered it open. That took nearly the last of his strength.

Both cats charged off, knocking over decor and a lamp on their way to safety.

"Q!" Bond bellowed.

He'd had Eve make the arrangements and she'd sent the email with the address. James hadn't really paid attention to much except vegetarian and vegan options.

Amour Weho...well, he'd said it was with Harry.

And she did know everything about him.

He was there a half hour early simply because traffic was freakishly light. He was halfway through a martini when he saw Harry and rose to greet him.

"I ordered appetizers to go in as soon as you arrived," he told him.

He hadn't been nervous until he'd found himself in a gown with pen marks on his skin. Laid back on a gurney in medical, a strap across his chest to secure him, that was when he looked to Q.

"Let's get you relaxed, 007," R said, giving him a pat and pushing some drugs into the line into his arm.

Bond opened his eyes to the featureless January sky out the window- stories above, shown for his viewing pleasure on a screen with some curtains hung on it. He took a deep breath and then smacked his sticky tongue against the roof of his mouth. Clearing his throat, he looked around and it all came back to him. Nothing after R's pat, of course, but the reason he was here.

"Q?" he rasped, knowing he'd be close.

Harry had made the arrangements and Bond and Q arrived just on time to the restaurant where they found Harry waiting with wine. As soon as they sat, a server brought a lovely amuse.

Bond wore a dark blue suit, white shirt and a blue tie Q favoured. Beneath his clothes, he had worn a ring to keep himself in check. One day he'd prove to Harry he didn't need it, that he could find a bit of self discipline, but so far he'd proven otherwise.

And this dinner was certainly not going to go the way the last one had.

He waited for Q to sat, then sat as well.

"I've been looking forward to this all day," he remarked.

Harry rushed out of the loo while Bond rounded the corner and walked away the other direction. Bond sighed as he went in to use the facility, glad he hadn't had to talk to him yet.

He and Q had had a good conversation. They'd done some thinking. He'd already sent a few texts to ask a few questions of assets he trusted around the globe. It could work. The next issue was how to have a conversation with Harry. Something he certainly wasn't ready to do, and absolutely not outside the loo.

He unzipped when he noticed the phone laying there. It could only be Harry's. If the man had seen it, he was the sort to turn it in. Bond was not that sort of person. He didn't pick it up until he'd washed his hands. A quick scan of the greasy screen showed him the code and he tapped it in. Straight off the shelf burner. On Harry? Odd.

Bond ducked into the stall to scan through recent activity.

The last message was a photo of Harry's hand on his belt, a clear erection beneath his knuckles. It sent a jolt to Bond's cock. He scrolled up, admiring some sub follow Harry's every command. He scrolled up, scrolled back down, then leaned against the wall so he could undo his fly and take hold of his cock. Every picture was precisely what Harry asked for and Bond found himself weak that that couldn't be him.

Why couldn't it be him?

He scrolled back through the commands, then opened the camera and took some snaps of himself, following Harry's commands. Once he came, he was determined to find that hotel room. He'd complete the series before he returned the phone.

He had every intention of coming to a decision with Q before returning it.

It could just as easily wind up in the Thames, lost forever and no one the wiser.

Phones went missing every day.

He'd had the idea and had made arrangements before he'd ever come to the station. Meeting Q had made him wonder if it might be a mistake, then he decided...no. No, this was perfect.

The cat was sleek and lanky, still a kitten but well done with its mother and curious about everything. Bond admired the creature, then loaded a hover-skin with a few essentials he'd also secured. Litter pan, dishes, toys.

All the cat needed was a home and Bond had no intention of it living with him.

The skid hovered beside him as he waited at Q's door, the kitten's carrier covered with a silver privacy blanket. For the moment, it was quiet. Bond wondered if the creature would announce itself before he could even present it.

Around the time the rest of Q branch was clearing out to catch to Tube and find their way home before the sun set, Bond wandered in to see if Q was ready.

"They've set the implant for Thursday morning," he said. "Unless something comes up."

As he made his announcement, he picked up a new creation to inspect it.

"Harry?" Bond called as he came into the, looking for the man in the kitchen first, then out in the garden.

"Harry? There you are. I have amazing news," he smiled.

Things had settled into a rhythm once they'd returned. Bond had increased patrols, scouting farther and farther out from the stadium. People would join him, or they'd be sorry. His teams had no problems raiding. And they gladly killed when need be. Bond had, in fact, ordered no mercy.

He'd only barely spoken to Q of what they'd gone through, and had solidly not spoken about it to Harry. In fact, it had become a bit suspicious how he always seemed to be unavailable to the man.

But when there was a knock on his door and he opened it to see Harry, his stomach dropped as he realized it was a conversation he could no longer avoid.

"Come in," he said, stepping out of the way for Harry to enter.

Things were coming together nicely. Harry's people had moved in and after a rather chaotic week of getting everyone settled, things had evened out. The patrols were bringing back necessary items, but also items of luxury and comfort. They'd secured a truck and furniture, clothing, food, copper, and scrap for burning all poured in.

Bond was in his office, going over a ledger. Q and Tanner kept impeccable records and Bond was on top of keeping everything going. He truly hated the task, but he'd do it because it needed done.

The knock on his office door stole his attention.

"Come," he called.

Behind him, the large windows in the luxury box looked out over the pitch where dozens of solar panels were set to catch the sunlight. THe power was easily enough to keep the stadium lit at night. At night, Wembley was a shining beacon in the dark.

He waved Harry in and rose to welcome him in.

"Any hiccups?"