Disclaimers: I do not own James Bond and I never will, but I do own Michael Stone.

A/N: I know I know I should be updating my other stories, but I swear new chapters will be up as soon as school is over. I know that seems too far away, but I assure you that school is over in June (the first week). Okay, I hope you all enjoy this. Reviews appreciated!

Close Encounters

"Good evening, Mr. Bond."

James looked up after hearing his name called. He nodded at the man before him and stood up.

"Lead on," he beckoned as he stretched his arms behind him. "Lead on."

Ambrosia was, by name, a high class restaurant. It had the expensive food, the famous or infamous costumers, and the strict guidelines, but Bond knew something that most people didn't know.

Ambrosia had a dark side.

What most regular people didn't know was that above the restaurant was something even more interesting.

Above the restaurant was a different kind of area. It had a bar, an All You Can Eat table, and poles.

Men and women who knew the secret code to get in would drink and eat. Then they would sit on a couch or a chair, and be "entertained" by a skilled entertainer.

But there was a catch.

The catch was that the people who were "entertaining" the select few were victims of human trafficking. They were bruised and battered both mentally, physically, and sexually. They were taken from their homes and forced to submit themselves to the life of a prostitute.

It was his job to find out who headed the trafficking, and to give the locals a little tip on how to successfully arrest and prosecute them.

"You can sit here," the man said; showing Bond a black single seated couch.

"Thank you very much." James replied as he sat down.

He looked around. His eyes saw every exit, and memorized every face.

There were some men and women already getting a few dances and to his surprise some of the men and women had their opposite dancing in front of them.

Bond could almost laugh, but he was wise enough not to.

Whatever floats your boat...

"What's your poison?"

James had almost forgotten that the man was still standing by him. He didn't bother to look at the speaker.

"Martini. Shaken not stirred," he automatically replied.

Welcome to the American lifestyle…

The drink came to him rather quickly. The waiter placed the glass right into Bond's hand.

James gave his thanks and then took a sip of the alcohol.

"Your entertainer is called Danny," the waiter mentioned.

With that the man walked away to help other guests.

Bond took another sip of his drink as he quietly hoped that "Danny" was a "Dani." He was about to check the time, but music started to play.

Dani.

He closed his eyes, placed his drink on the table to his right, and leaned back; calmly staying put and relaxing into the music.

"May I have a drink?" Dani softly said in a slightly lower accent than normal for a woman.

A she-man… He laughed inside. "Suit yourself," he consented with a slight smile on his face. Be respectful to all sorts of women.

After a few seconds, Bond felt something thrown at him. He let his hands touch the object and found it to be a soft leather belt.

Leather…

James opened his eyes and looked up.

What he saw was a great shock.

Dani wasn't a lady, but a man!

His eyes widened.

Dani was a man, and not just any typical man.

It was his friend!

It was his best friend!

It was Michael!

Michael Stone!

James was frozen at his spot. He wanted to close his eyes or just turn away, but he couldn't. It was like the surprise sent a current through his body which was seemingly forcing him to sit still as if paralyzed.

Who would have thought? Queen Elizabeth II help me!

Michael was now down to his red, white, and blue boxer.

James then felt the articles of clothing on his neck. He could only make his eyes open, and he could tell that Stone knew it was his friend that was watching.

There's going to be a lot of explaining to do.

His mind screamed, but it was no use. Michael was going to dance on the pole.

He felt himself grimace in disgust, but quickly replaced it with a grin. He had to keep his cover and so does Michael.

Besides it would be great to tease him forever about this…

After five minutes of grueling, strangely fascinating pole dancing, Michael as Danny went to James and smiled mockingly.

He spread Bond's legs, and leaned forward. He ran his hands up his friend's chest slowly, seductively with a weathered smirk on his face and his eyes gleaming with mischief.

James nodded in return.

Michael ran his hands up and down James' chest and then rested them by Bond's neck. He then ran his lips up and down the same neck slowly, and just as seductively as when he was using his hands.

James felt his stomach twist and turn. You are going to pay for this, Mike.

Michael's lips then caressed James' cheek and he could feel Bond trying not to squirm.

James almost pushed his friend away. He knew what the other was doing. You're not going to rattle me... You are not going to win.

Stone then put his lips by Bond's ear and whispered, "Hello Jimmy."

Thank God.

James almost sighed in relief. He didn't know how long he could stand being "entertained" by Michael.

Michael laughed. "Missed you," he added with pleasure. I love making you feel weird.

He then pulled away and grabbed his clothes. He wiped the bead of sweat from his forehead. This is some stuff - crap to pull off.

"Welcome to America," he finally said as he finished James' drink.

James smiled in agreement. "Privacy available, Dani?" he playfully asked; emphasizing on his friend's name.

Michael's eyes twinkled. "Just follow, Mr. Brit."

Laughing, James stood up and wrapped an arm around his partner in all things, but the bed.

"Onward, good sir," the Englishman said.

"Hold me tighter." Michael whispered as he buried his face into his friend's shoulder. "I'm the entertainer here."

James kissed the other man's head in turn. He smiled at the people watching, and winked.

"Well, Entertainer, Dani or whatever you're called, you danced quite well," he mentioned; ready for the banter to ensue.

They entered the private room before Michael could reply. They pulled away from each other and grinned.

Michael closed the door, locked it, and sighed.

"These guys are extremely fit…nearly pulled a hamstring on that damn pole," he complained.

"That's why exercising is important!" James said with a laugh. He gave a pretend glare at his friend just to mock him. "How many times do I have to tell you that? Exercise! Exercise!" He put his hands on his hips. "You're not getting any younger."

Michael rolled his eyes. "How can anyone listen to you? You have a horrible habit of patronizing me as if I was the greenest thing on the planet!"

"Well, now that you mention it…" James said with a shrug.

"Bite me."

"Already have – unfortunately."

Michael growled and started to put on his regular clothes.

James' level of amusement just went higher.

"You volunteered?" he asked; basking in his friend's slight humiliation.

"Contrary to popular belief, I actually don't choose my missions." Michael said as he put his tie on. "Some people actually get assigned."

James barely blinked at his friend's somewhat snide comment against him.

"Weak shot," he commented. "If I don't say so myself….I think Michael Stone – lost."

Michael grinned. "Unlike some people I know, I really don't like giving up easily," he countered.

"You sound like a person who can't lift it up." James easily quipped.

Stone laughed. "You sound like you have experience with that sort of situation since you know how a person who can't lift it up sounds."

"It takes one to know one." James replied with a knowing eye.

Michael snorted. "Then we're both bastards."

"Let's keep it to ourselves then." James added.

"Deal."

"Deal."

James curiosity overtook him after Michael finally finished buttoning his dress shirt.

"Why the bloody hell were you 'entertaining?'" he asked.

Michael rolled his eyes and shrugged at the same time. He should have known that James would bother him with that bit.

"You sound as if I knew that you were tailing these guys too," he responded. He looked pointedly at his friend for a moment before he put on his second genuine smirk of the day. "I actually thought I would be alone on this one. So, I found a way in."

"But you couldn't find a way in as a business executive or partner." James added knowingly because he knew that if there was no other way in that he would resort to "entertaining" if necessary.

Michael flushed slightly. "Yeah…yeah….yeah….So I couldn't get in? I had to find another way and I did. Don't patronize me!"

"I'm not patronizing you, Michael."

"Sounds like you are."

James grinned. "If I were patronizing you I would sound sterner, and I wouldn't have this grin on my face. Would I?"

"It's a stupid grin." Michael muttered.

As soon as he finished that sentence his forehead was smacked by a tough object. He blinked after the collision and looked at James.

Bond was chuckling.

"Very mature…" Michael said.

James shook his head. "Ah contraire! Very funny..."

He then remembered something. The victims were a part of human trafficking. Michael... An urgent question arose in his head, but before he could ask it Michael was already speaking as if reading his mind. That I can believe. He knows me too well maybe even better then I know myself.

"I had my back round made out. Mother had a guy who was already inserted in their sect give it to them. He wasn't too close, and he couldn't do it on his own. So I got it... And no they didn't beat or force me to do anything...I made sure that part was in the back round check." Michael explained.

James nodded, glad that his friend didn't have to go through what the others went through.

He glanced at the clothes that his friend had to wear to play his part. It was time to break the barrier that question seemingly gave them.

"Had fun doing that little job?" he asked.

"Fun?" Michael gasped. "Please, this place wouldn't give me fun even if I was drunk, high, and hit on the head five times." He shook his head furiously, and pointed that his "uniform." "That was not fun!" he exclaimed.

"Did you have training?"

James couldn't help himself. It was just too fun seeing Stone so uncomfortable.

"No, thank God!" Michael replied. "But unfortunately I did have to audition."

"How could you audition without training?" James asked in slight bewilderment. "You're not saying that you are a natural are you?" Please don't be a natural.

Michael snorted at the question. "Please….me a natural?" he said with a laugh. "That's very funny, Bondo. Of course I had a little help."

James raised an eyebrow at the name, but he decided to let it pass.

"From whom may I ask?"

"A close friend of mine."

"And this friend is?"

"The girl next door."

James cocked an eyebrow. "The girl next door?"

"What?" Michael replied. "Yeah, the girl next door. She was a professional."

"Oh, I see where this is going." James interceded. "She's a 'professional.'"

"Stripper."

"That's what I thought."

"No, you wore thinking whore – slut – prostitute."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

Michael blinked. He wasn't even going to bother.

James laughed as Stone through up his hands as if begging God to do something for him.

"You entertained any other men besides me?" he asked. He just had to know, because if the answer was yes he would never let Michael live it down.

Michael saw the trap. He could see the trap a mile away.

"Once or twice before you, Bondo."

James grimaced at his new nickname. He preferred Jimmy – hell, even Jimbo would do, but not Bondo. Where did it come from?

"But most of my clients were women." Michael added with a cheeky grin.

"Anyone paid you to –" James was about to ask, but Michael already was telling him an answer.

"Paid me to sleep with them? Of course, that was in the job description."

"Did those one or two men ask to sleep with you?" James questioned; wondering the possibilities of the answer because he knew that Michael wasn't against experimenting.

Michael shrugged. "If it were for a million bucks then maybe I would have, but no I didn't. I prefer not to be paid for sexual favors."

"How about the women?"

"Tempted, I admit, I was tempted, but I didn't."

James frowned. "So when you get into the private room what do you do?"

"Knock the men out," was Stone's quick reply. "And the women are usually passed out once we get into the room."

"All the while thinking as soon as they resurface that they had the best time of their lives." James continued was a soft and satisfied smile.

"Indeed." Michael agreed.

"You have to admit that these women are quite beautiful." James put in.

Michael licked his lips. "Yes, they are, but they've been through too much for us to go picking through the crop."

James nodded. He couldn't not contend that reasoning. He didn't like seeing women in pain. I would never force a woman to have sex like those people did to these women - and men.

He looked at his watch and noticed the time. It was time to leave.

"Do you have enough information to take this group down?" he asked his friend.

Michael quickly replied, "Yes, I do. You?"

"Yup." James looked to the window and nodded at it. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Michael laughed. "You're not reeling from our close encounter, Bondo?"

James looked at his friend. He caught the other's eyes and said, "I can never be uncomfortable with you, Stone. You're my friend. That's all that matters."

Michael looked back slightly touched, but not willing to show it, and grinned. "You're kind of freaked out."

James squinted slightly and then returned his eyes to normal.

"Okay, just a little," he acquiesced.

Michael laughed and James soon joined him.

Another question suddenly appeared in James' head.

"Why is a Central Intelligence Agent working in America?" he asked. "Isn't that illegal in your country's law and constitution?"

Michael looked at him incredulously.

"And the FBI can arrest you if they find out what you are doing here..." James concluded.

Michael's incredulous look changed into a mischievous one. He put on a triumphant and clever grin.

"Are you going to tell the feds that I'm CIA?" he asked. "Because I bet finding a SIS agent would be even better on their resumes."

James blinked.

"Good point."

Michael nodded.

"I know."

They looked at the window, equal grins on, and opened it.

It was time for them to fly.

"Oh, and Michael?"

"Yes, James?"

"Don't call me Bondo."

"That's fine with me."

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

James and Michael loved to fly with life. No matter what they faced whether it was from death encounters to injury encounters and all the way to close encounters these two special agents of the world flew through them all and lived life.

After all, they were the best in the world.

They were James Bond and Michael Stone.

The End

End-note: I hope you all enjoyed this. I hope to update my other stories including Whatever Tomorrow Brings soon. Reviews appreciated.