A/N: I do not own James Bond/Anything created by Ian Fleming. Nor do I own Once Upon a time or any of its stuff either.

There. There is not that many fics for RenBelle out there so this is just something I had to get out there because of my intense James Bond/Rumbelle feelings as of late. haha If it seems to go over well, then Ill keep going. Let me know guys!

Chapter 1:

This was not the first time she had been cuffed to a chair. She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes as she moved her wrists against the metal, testing the durability. They held; she was not surprised. The small ear bud was almost invisible under the edge of her braid and she winced as it issued a squeak. She had suspected it had been damaged in her scuffle earlier and her captors had managed to miss it while they detained her. How clumsy of them. However, it had been squeaking for the past hour off and on as she suspected the agency was trying to reach her through the broken bit of equipment. She wished she could free her hands if only to rip the damn thing out of her ear.

After another squeak, it crackled to life and the message, however broken, could be heard well enough. "A…Agent." Static. "Are you." More static. "Over."

"Go again mum," she said as the last part fizzled out.

There was a pause and a click before the old woman's voice came through almost without a hitch. "Agent French, are you hurt?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head even though the people on the other side couldn't see. "No. I'm fine. Just detained."

"Where are you?"

Looking around the room, she gave them as much detail as possible. Though the damp walls of the windowless room and the one lamp sitting on the floor in the corner were nothing to go by and she knew that. This was one she would have to get out of on her own. She tried the cuffs again and there was still no movement, she huffed once more and stomped her foot, it did nothing of course but it made her feel better.

"B-Belle." A man's voice this time. He was young and the slightest bit timid but behind that voice was one of the brightest minds she had ever known.

"I'm listening." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes trying to think as well as listen to the words that were coming out of her ear.

"Are you wearing your mother's ring?" he asked.

She opened her eyes and leaned forward. What kind of question was that? She never went anywhere without it, most nights keeping it on in the shower, only to part with it when it came time to have it cleaned.

"Q, what are you playing at? Of course I'm-…" she started before he cut her off.

"Good. Now listen, take it off and underneath the stone there should be a small nub. Hold your thumb over it for three seconds before pushing it up. You'll feel it click." He talked quickly, knowing time was of the essence.

She did as he asked and slid the ring off of her finger, careful to keep a tight hold on it, if she dropped it she might have lost her last hope. She closed her eyes as she slid her thumb around the inside of the band, feeling for the spot under the stone. Once she located it she held her thumb in place and counted, 'One…two…three.' She applied pressure to the nub and it clicked, just like he said it would.

His voice came back over her earpiece and she could hear a smile in his tone, "There you are you little minx."

She laughed softly and shook her head, "A tracking device Q? How on Earth did you-…"

"You get your ring cleaned on the 1st of every other month. I chose that moment to strike. Honestly Agent French you shouldn't be so predictable." He chuckled as he began to type quickly at a keyboard and she could imagine him working furiously in front of multiple screens, locating her coordinates. Even though she was not out of the woods yet, she felt her shoulders relax at the thought that her location was now known back at base.

"What would I do without you Q?" she smiled and asked into the open air.

"If I had a euro for every time I heard that one from one of you buggers." He grumbled playfully and she laughed again, imagining the glares he was getting from their boss.

"Who the bloody hell are you talking to?"

She looked up as the door opened and her captors strolled in. They had heard her talking to Q and either they thought she was mentally unstable or they knew she had connections to the outside and the jig was up.

"Agent French, who is that? Agent French, don't let them-…" Q said quickly with the first hint of fear in his voice before the man reached into Belle's braid and pulled out the ear piece, smashing it under his boot. Belle bit her lip, there went her contact; her only hope was that they would hurry up.

The man came to stand in front of her as his lackeys stood on each side of the door, guarding it. His greasy hair fell around his face in matted sections as he looked at her with a snarl full of multiple metal teeth. Belle had worked in the field long enough to know she wasn't dealing with the man she had came for. The man she had been after was behind multiple bombings on the south side of London and she knew, just by looking, that her captor was a decoy. A scapegoat for any official who came looking to capture, interrogate and dispose of.

He backhanded her firmly and stood back up, motioning his men to leave. She turned her head with the slap but remained silent and watched as the men closed the door behind them.

"Di' you think dat you could get de better of me, little one?" his Russian accent was thick and he lit a cigar and plopped it between his lips with a smirk.

Belle turned her head slowly and glared at him. She hated being called 'little'. Keeping her composure she said firmly, "Actually, I was hoping to get the better of your employer."

He raised an eyebrow, looking confused and blew a ring of smoke in her face. "My employer? I work for no one."

She let out a laugh, so abrupt that he looked shocked. "Right. You organized the attacks on parliament, while coinciding multiple distractions within the city to rob a science lab of its plutonium?" She shook her head, "I don't think so."

"And why not?!" He clenched his fists and glared at her with outrage.

"Two words…" Belle paused and heard shots down below, the cavalry was here. She smirked and leaned in closer to him like she was telling a secret, "Too. Stupid."

He dropped his cigar and lunged at her in anger and she used his own momentum against him. Pulling her feet up together, she kicked him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling and slamming her chair back against the floor at the same time. The chair broke into several pieces as she worked her handcuffed arms under her hips and around her ankles until they were in front of her. She was still cuffed but this was a start. She scrambled to her feet and straddled his chest, punching him in the face and keeping him pinned. He fought her and her weight was no match for his, she was going to have to be creative. She looked to her left and saw his smoking cigar lying on the stone floor. Grabbing it she brought it down on his right eye and pressed, holding steady as he squirmed and yelled beneath her while it seared his flesh.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the wall. She hit her head and gave a small cry as she fell to the ground on her hands and knees. The moment that it took her to recover gave him enough time to stand and rush for her again, his eye a bloody mass, mixing with the ash on his cheek from the cigar.

"You stupid wench! I-…" Three shots fired into his body and he jerked with each one before falling face down on the stone in front of her. Belle raised her head slowly, looking through the fallen pieces of her braid to the now open door way.

A man in a well tailored suit stepped into the room and spoke into his wrist as he looked at Belle, "Yes mum. I got her." He paused and looked her over with a smile. "Well she could use a bath, but she's alive."

Belle shook her head and stood up slowly, walking over to him and smiling into his ice-blue eyes. "Un-cuff me Bond." She held her hands out in front of her body and pulled the chain tight.

"Are you sure, love? We could have had so much fun with these." He smiled again, flashing pearl-perfect teeth. Placing a hand on her wrist, he placed the barrel of the gun against the chain and fired, the bullet lodging in the floor as the chain split in two.

She ruffled his short, dirty blonde hair and walked out of the room. She knew his playfulness was just that, nothing more. That's who Bond was, that was his game. And she could play just as well as the boys. "In your dreams Sparky," she called over her shoulder as she straightened her crinkled blouse and strutted out of her former prison, knowing full well that her fellow agent was on her heels.

Belle walked into the tech room of MI6 and everyone in the room lifted their gaze to her as the click of her heels echoed on the tiled floor. She was filthy. Covered from head to toe in dust, mud and specks of blood that was, for the most part, not hers. She needed a bath and a good night's sleep but first she had to report, be debriefed and checked over. Making her way to the large screens in the front room, she smiled as she approached the man at the desk. He was thin; wearing well fitted jeans and a sharp looking vest with matching bow tie. After muttering a string of quiet curses to the computer at his hands, he shoved his thick rimmed, yet very stylish, glasses up the bridge of his nose and continued clacking at the keyboard.

"Q…" she said his code name gently and stayed where she was, giving him a warm smile.

He froze, his hands positioned at the keyboard and spun around to look her over. "Belle." He said softly, before going to her without a moment's hesitation and wrapping his arms around her and picking her up just enough to spin her.

She laughed and put her arms around his neck, he held her tighter than was necessary and she felt him let out a shaky sigh. Her smile faltered for only a second as she patted his hair and said gently, "I'm alright Q. It looks worse than it really is, I promise."

He set her down and looked her over with a concerned look before clearing his throat and releasing her. Straightening his coat, he noticed they had attracted a small crowd. "Alright, back to work everyone."

Everything resumed as normal and she smiled again. He had shown more affection than an agent ever should but he had been worried about her. She had been gone for days, thought dead at one point; he needed conformation that she was still real and she didn't fault him for that. With Q it wasn't romantic, this was not the business you wanted to be in if you dabbled in such emotions. No, with Q it was as if they were kindred spirits. They were both exceptionally intelligent and fought for their positions among the ranks of their more "spy-like" colleges. Belle had only recently broken away from the tech department and entered the field once they realized she had a knack for combat, an eye for strategy and feel for how to negotiate; all three were essential to survival in MI6.

She had grown close to Q, having trained him to be the main quartermaster for the agency, and she often missed her old department but craved the adventure that her new one had to offer. Belle watched over her friend's shoulder as he typed in codes for her records with a diligence that she both admired and respected. The glass doors whooshed open and everyone who was not an agent stood a little straighter and some even gave a small salute as their boss walked through the doors.

'M', or mum to the all the agents, was head of the whole department. She was an elderly woman, about five foot two inches, with snow white hair, cut clean and short. Prim, proper and tough as nails, with green eyes like a hawk and a voice that could be both gentle and sharp simultaneously. The British government trusted her with their security and everyone in this room trusted her with their lives.

"Agent French!" she barked as she walked across the room, her gray pumps giving small clicks on the tile, her gray pants suit tailored to perfection. What was it with this department and gray? Belle straightened and turned to her. The old woman smiled, "You look like hell."

Belle's shoulders relaxed and she let out a small laugh, "Thank you mum. It means job well done, doesn't it?"

"That it does. That it does." She walked over and patted Q on the shoulder before muttering just loud enough he could hear her, "Well done."

Belle smiled at Q and mouthed a 'thank you' before turning and following the smaller woman out the glass doors and up the stairs into the main part of the building. The lavish building was decorated in browns with golden trim and Belle had no idea how it stayed so clean all the time. They walked into M's large office.

"Would you like a drink?" she looked to Belle and motioned to the tray for her to help herself.

Belle nodded and did just that, after the week she had, she needed it. She dropped a few cubes of ice into her short glass, pouring about two inches of scotch in the bottom.

"My dear, we thought you were dead. It's quite a relief for you to be standing here." M started as she sat behind her desk and pulled out paperwork.

"Do you have so little faith in me mum?" Belle smiled as she said and sat down in front of the desk and crossed her legs. She felt bad for sitting in the nice chairs while she was covered in dust and blood but she was tired, surely the cleaning crew would forgive her.

"Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about," she paused and laced her fingers together before placing her hands on the stack of papers. "My faith in you grows stronger every month Belle and I think it is time."

Belle sat up and put her glass down on the edge of the desk. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. It was too soon.

Her boss slid over an official looking piece of paper to her and held out a pen. "Sign on the line and you will be given full status…Agent double-0 nine."

She looked at the piece of paper and then up at her boss. Double-0 status. It was finally happening. What she had wanted more than anything since she walked in the doors of MI6 as a temp was to be a full time agent, an elite, one of the very best. She took the pen gingerly and signed her name, looping her L's gracefully before sitting the pen back on the desk and letting her lips form a proud smile. Belle French, Agent 009…she liked the sound of that.