Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with 007, the only thing I own are my original characters. Other than that, I am just fiddling around with the genius of someone else.

Accesses Denied

She knew the minute she opened her apartment door that night that she wasn't alone. Just as she knew, the minute she had caught his eye - while dancing in the club - that a certain someone would be unable to resist the temptation of seeing her again. She was quite certain that this 'unexpected' visitor thought that he would catch her off guard. She was going to do everything in her power to encourage that belief.

Casually she went about her nightly routine, flicking on lights as she passed them, tossing her purse onto the leather couch she kept in her living room. By the time she had reached her kitchen, she had removed her black pumps and they were now dangling nonchalantly in one hand, while with the other she had opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Still holding onto the pumps, she rummaged in the silverware drawer until she found the bottle opener. Then with practice grace she popped open the bottle and began to drink.

Freddie meandered her way out of the kitchen and over to her computer, where she sat down and began to peruse the internet. She finally dropped her shoes by her office chair, in order to drink and use the mouse at the same time. A few things caught and held her interest but she soon closed the window and stood up. Her beer was gone and she was feeling a bit grimy after spending a full night out on the town.

"I need a shower," she murmured to herself, speaking aloud both out of old habit and for the benefit of her 'unnoticed' guest. Freddie had to admit to herself that she was impressed by his patience. In the old days, he would have never waited this long before announcing his presence. She had never thought of him as being a patient man before, especially when it came to women, she never had had any reason to. Perhaps he had grown up in the years since the last time she saw him.

Still, Freddie was enjoying this particular game of cat and mouse, especially since she was planning to turn the tables on the cat. She stretched seductively, knowing that he would see her profile, then leaving the empty bottle on the computer desk she set off down the hall towards the bathroom. Turning the lights in the main room off as she went, and suppressing the urge to giggle. This is proving to be an interesting night, she thought to herself smirking a little in anticipation, Mr. 007 is soon going to find out that paybacks a bitch.

Freddie reached the bathroom and immediately began to slip out of the sexy little black number she had been wearing since 9:30 that evening, curious as to what the time was now she stuck her head out of the bathroom and looked at the clock she kept in the short hallway. It was now approximately 3:45 in the morning and she grunted in a mixture of surprise and satisfaction. The nights' not over yet, she couldn't help but think.

Purposefully leaving the door open a crack, she began to run the shower then standing in only her bra and underwear she brushed her teeth and removed her jewelry as the water warmed up. Then quickly shedding the rest of her clothing, Freddie hopped into the shower and suppressed a squeal of surprise; the water was just a little too warm. It was a quick shower by her standards, most nights she was content to just sit in the tub and get water logged, but not to night.

Soon she was all squeaky clean and turning the water off she stuck an arm out reaching for her towel. She was somewhat shocked when her hand did not immediately encounter the waiting towel. After a moment or two, the towel was put into her waiting hand, and Freddie smiled. She was immensely pleased with herself; everything was falling into place perfectly. She gave herself a quick dry off, before wrapping the towel around her and pulling back the shower curtain.

She found herself staring into all too familiar face. He stared back at her his blue-gray eyes questioning and a confident smile playing about his mouth, actually, it was more of a smirk than a smile. Freddie managed to look annoyed; it wasn't that hard, she hated that damned smirk. She stepped out of the tub and went toe to toe with him, not daunted by the fact that he was taller than her by at least ten inches.

"Well Mr. Bond, I was wondering how long it was going to take you to muster up your courage and show your face," she told him, making everything from her words to her body language a complete challenge. She turned then and sauntered out of the bathroom, managing to look dignified in nothing but a blue fuzzy towel and wet hair.

Freddie was already in her room and had managed to put on underwear and a t-shirt to sleep in by the time James joined her. When he entered her bedroom, she was sitting demurely on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed and brushing out her long hair.

"How long have you known I was here?" He asked leaning against the doorframe and not bothering to take a step further into the room.

"I smelled your cologne the minute I walked in," Freddie replied looking coyly up at him through her eyelashes.

"I'm not wearing any cologne my dear."

"Actually you are," she replied standing up and putting her brush on the dresser, "you reek of women and martinis; an offensive cologne if ever I smelled one." She told him flatly brushing past him and heading back to the kitchen. For some reason she felt the need for more beer.

"Let me guess, Bond, you've had a productive night," she shot at him over her shoulder. She heard him chuckle.

"And what about yourself, Ms. Keller," he asked following her. That British accent of his sending chills up her spine, which she did her best to ignore. "Judging by that crowd of men your night was productive as well."

Her only response to that was a mischievous grin. She turned her back on him once more to reach into the fridge and this time she pulled out two beers. She shut the door and turned back around only to find herself blocked by James. He took the beers out of her hand and set them on the counter behind her. Then he placed both hands on either side of her, effectively pinning her against the fridge.

"How can you stand to drink that stuff?" He asked her making a small grimace of distaste. It took Freddie a moment before she could reply; she had forgotten how intense his eyes could be.

"What's the matter James, not expensive enough for you?" She asked mockingly slipping under his arm and grabbing one of the beers. She paused in the middle of the room, turning around to face him once more. She made sure that her back wasn't against anything; she didn't want him to gain the upper hand again, that was defiantly not part of her plans.

"What are you doing here James," she asked before he could respond to her first question. He did not answer at first; he only stared at her in a way that she found slightly unnerving. Freddie knew that look only to well; he was sizing her up right now, imagining what she would look like without her t-shirt and panties.

She had known when she first got involved with him that he was a notorious womanizer, one only had to know him and watch the way he looked at women to know that. Still that had not prevented her from falling for the suave English spy. However, after six years of having no contact with him, Freddie had begun to rethink her feelings for him.

"I wanted to see you Freddie," he told her giving her a charming smile. She put the beer down on the nearest table, and shook her head in aggravation. She was sick of this game and was suddenly quite exhausted.

"Well you've seen me James." With that she turned on her heal and went back to her bedroom. She heard his footsteps behind her and by the time he had caught up to her she was already in bed, and passed out her night had finally caught up with her.