xXx

"When you said 'dinner at your mother's house' I'm glad you clarified she wasn't going to be cooking," Anita said, opening the pizza box and admiring its contents.

"We *are* friends, Anita. I save Mom's cooking for emergencies or biological weaponry," Victor retorted, pulling open the cellophane that covered a new batch of paper plates. "Do you need a fork?"

Anita shook her head, a bite of pizza already in her mouth.

Victor grimaced at her. "Okay, then. No plate or fork. And here I thought you were a fussbudget."

Anita picked up a long string of cheese from the top of the slice and allowed it to drip in her mouth from above. "Mmmm. Just keep the brub coming."

"Brub? You mean 'grub'," Victor laughed, pouring out some soda. "Your Americanisms need work."

Plopping the pizza on a plate, Anita took both it and her soda into the living room, where Victor had already turned on the television. The DVD player was on and loaded with their favorite James Bond movie, "Goldfinger." "I don't put much stock in those Americanisms anyway. I mean, what would any normal person rather do - go to the loo or sit on the john," Anita pondered, making a face. "I don't know why you name all these things after men whose names start with 'J' anyway. John ... Joe ... John Doe ... Jimmy ..."

"My aren't we a snotty Brit." Victor hit the remote and Shirley Bassy's booming voice filled the room, performing the movie's title track.

"Listen Thomas Jefferson, just be glad your mum wasn't a fan of Grover Cleveland."

"That could have sucked," Victor agreed. He leaned back, eating his pizza and occasionally mouthing some of James Bond's lines, most of which he and Anita knew by heart. Sometimes she'd do a great imitation of a Bond girl or better yet, Pussy Galore which once made Victor's drink come out his nose. "Now, Pussy, you know a lot more about planes than guns," Victor quoted along with Sean Connery. "That's a Smith and Wesson 45, and if you fire at me at this close range, the bullet will pass through me and the fuselage like a blowtorch through butter. The cabin will depressurize, and we'll both be sucked into outer space together. If that's how you want to enter the United States, you're welcome. As for me, I prefer the easy way."

He chuckled - this movie never grew old.

"Do you think he's right? The trajectory would be slowed considerably once it went through a human body," Anita said, grabbing another slice. "Might even flatten the bullet if you hit the spine or ribs."

Victor rolled his eyes. "James Bond is always right. I thought we'd agreed on that."

"I remember agreeing that James Bond is always hot, not right."

"Whatever. Now shush - Oddjob is showing up soon. Say, think Funky Socks will get us hats like that? I'd love to toss a bowler like a frisbee and take out a few Expendables. Pow ... zzzt ... sliiiice."

"Funky Socks barely gets us new batteries for our bikes when we need them." Anita pursed her mouth and started to imitate her boss. "Hmmph, budgeting is secondary only to security, Agent Knight. We must tighten our belts! Flatten our wallets! Pull up our britches and damn the torpedoes! Code Cheapskate! Code Cheapskate!"

Victor burst out laughing. "Oh God ... you're too much."

Finally, they settled in and started watching the movie in earnest. Anita went for a third slice against her better judgment and Victor checked in the coffee table drawer to make sure the antacids were at the ready. He knew that in about twenty minutes ....

"Oooh," Anita groaned exactly nineteen-point-five minutes later, holding her stomach. "I think that slice went down wrong."

"Maybe the other two slices were in its way?" Victor shook the Tums bottle at her. "Luckily, like the Boy Scouts, I'm always prepared for your fatal errors. Just don't wash them down with soda this time. I think the Floaty Heads heard that belch in outer space."

Anita made a face at him, but took the medication anyway. The movie wound down to its conclusion, leaving them both with a satisfied feeling. Or leaving Anita calm and happy - Victor merely got wound up, making karate moves as he cleaned up their mess, kicking his way into the kitchen and tripping when he tried an elaborate move back into the living room.

"Victor ..." Anita warned, as he tried to grab the chandelier and swing from it. "Do I have to switch you to decaf soda again?"

"Your luck has changed, Goldfinger!"

"If you break that light, your mother will banish you to your room for a month and I'll have to break you out for work again like I did last winter. Or have you forgotten? Victor!"

"If I fail to report 008 replaces me ... oh no! Wait! AGH!"

A huge crash and Anita covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh, Victor," she groaned, helping him amid the wreck of Mrs. Volt's prize light fixture. "Now you've done it."

The doorbell rang. Mrs. Volt was back from her reading group and Victor blanched. "You wouldn't want to take the fall for this one would you, pal?"

"Not on your life," Anita hissed, plastering a huge smile on her face when Mrs. Volt walked into the room, her mouth dropping to her chest. "And with that, I must be going. Goodnight, Mrs. Volt. I'll see you soon. Toodles!"

xXx

It was a hard assignment, but Anita handled it with her usual precision and aplomb. Sneak into the back garden, shimmy up the fire escape, three knocks to the glass and ...

"No, mom! I'm not going anywhere, really." Victor slid the window open a crack. "Give me another minute, she's right at the door."

Anita sighed and sat down on the fire escape. This was going to be a long month.

xXx

end