Author's Note: Welcome one and all to what is quite obviously further proof to the fact that I am forever destined to be but a lowly nerd who can think of nothing better to do than to sleep and be obsessed with James Bond. This particular story is really something I have wanted to do since about November, but I never really acted on until now. I'm not going to give the fic away, but I will say that I am still on the fence about picking this story up, so it may be a one-shot. For you British readers-how I wish I could visit England- I am a citizen of the United States, and therefore, you may see some slight spelling differences and incorrect references to geography. Rebaforever15, if you ever read this, it's great because you're something of my idol but you should know beforehand that you might see some slight similarities to your story, some words in French that I'm too lazy to type. I apologize, it's just that your story is so amazing, and whenever I brainstorm plots, I always come back to this, so it's happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and if you don't, well then you can go fuck yourself. Happy reading!
Chapter 1: M, you Bitch
James Bond walked into the headquarters of MI6 that dreary April morning wishing he could just punch a baby. His last mission, although fun, had been an absolute disaster in the fact that he had let the Colombian drug lord get away while also having been shot in the forearm. Not that walking around in a sling bothered him. However, Bond had been in the espionage business for too long to not know that he would almost certainly be getting his ass handed to him in his mission debriefing from none other than the Evil Queen of Numbers. As annoying as his boss, M, could tend to be, he did have to admit that he got a thrill out of being chewed out by her. He could never really understand what it was about her. Maybe it was her silvery hair, the way she took no shit from anyone, or her deep blue eyes that pleaded to their onlookers, suggesting that their possessor was more than just some cranky old hag. 007 was in such a trance contemplating M that he hardly realized that he had walked right over the edge of the staircase down. With an idiotic look of expression on his face, James Bond, the highly witty and intelligent Double Oh agent was sent tumbling down the twenty foot staircase into MI6's main office, falling on his already broken arm at the bottom. He may have been physically hurting like a bitch, but the one thing that had been damaged the most in his little tumble was his pride. "Yes, Q, I understand that this may be so goddamn funny to you, but don't think that I won't hesitate to utterly trash whatever gadgets you throw my way come next mission."
M hated rainy days. As she stared out the window towards the bleak London morning, the only thing on her mind was how she should go about reprimanding 007 for his most recent screw-up. James bloody Bond, she liked to think of him, was probably on his way towards her office right now, just anticipating getting to watch her blow up at him yet again. That stupid little smartass probably didn't sense that M knew he liked making her angry. She may not be as young as she used to be, but sixty-two years of life certainly teaches one how to pick up on those minor details that create the underlining of every hardened agent. She might just have the mind to suspend his license. Ha! Making the man of one thousand women, the unstoppable James Bond of MI6, hold a temporary desk job for a punishment? Priceless. Not only would it teach the little disrespecting punk a lesson, it would also give her time to re-examine his capability and contributions to the agency. Just thinking about Bond with his cerulean blue eyes, arrogant smirk, and quirky attitude put M into a trance. Realizing that she had literally been staring out the window for a good ten minutes, M snapped out of it and phoned Eve, the receptionist. "Is Bond in?"
"Yes, and he seems so happy to see you. Would you like me to send him in?" The amount of sarcasm in Moneypenny's voice was nauseating.
"I don't see what you're waiting for," M remarked through gritted teeth.
"You wanted to see me, Evil Queen of Numbers? Perhaps yet another terrible debriefing?" Bond stated cheekily as he stepped into M's office.
"I am really in no mood, Bond. If you weren't to jump to conclusions, you would already know that this little "meeting" has very little to do with your poor performance in your most recent mission. The real reason I wanted to have a word with you is to converse about how you almost got yourself killed!" M shouted, motioning to Bond's injured arm.
"It's really nothing, the gunman missed my head anyway."
"But that's the point! We're running a serious government intelligence agency here. Your mission is to blow other people's heads off, not your own. And how do you think I would react if we were to lose you?"
"You'd get a replacement and forget about me, simple."
"You're not getting what I'm saying, James." James? M would never refer to Bond by his first name. M continued in a soft voice. "The truth is…"
"That you're an old witch?"
"No, 007. It's…"
"That you're forever alone because your husband died and now you have nothing left besides your kids who hate you and your job?"
"JAMES!" Bond quickly lost his playful attitude and sunk back into his chair. "As I was saying, the truth is, well, I think that I might be in love with you."
The expression on 007's face quickly reverted from sullen into shock. "You've got to be shitting me. I've been working for the evil queen of numbers for I can't remember how long, and she's seriously just telling me that she loves me?"
Tears began to form in M's eyes. "I apologize, 007. I said too much. But I will stand by my statement-I love you."
Bond said nothing for five minutes while he furtively stared at the carpeted floor. When he looked up, he saw a depressed M turned the other way in her chair, tears silently pouring from her pure blue eyes. James had known M for a long time, but never, never, had he seen her cry. Bond got up and walked over to M. One second he picked up her chin so her eyes stared into his own icy blues, the next he had pulled her into the most passionate kiss of his life. M said nothing, but rather closed her eyes and was lost in the bliss. Bond pulled his head next to hers and whispered gently into her ear, "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."
