Chapter 01

***James Bond***

Bond's eyes were trained on London's horizon. He was waiting by the window. The prides of their city - The Houses of Parliament, the imposing London Eye and the majestic Tower Bridge looked magnificent. Nothing more than a pile of old stones for tourists. They still held so much meaning for people of England. For them, for the Royal family and for her...

One would say it was their duty. The agents of MI6 were all ready to put their lives in danger. Anything for the safety of their nation. Anything for the safety of the world. It was still a bitter pill for James to swallow, because he could picture to the tiniest detail, the oaths they took and why they do this job. All the while, she was dying in his arms for it.

In the end, Bond finally found out the truth. It wasn't worth it. He would have gladly died instead of her. Her life was much more important than his. Duty to Queen and Country were more important to her than to him.

"Bond?"

That last day at Skyfall, constantly played in his mind, a long bitter continued nightmare. The relief he felt, when he saw her standing in the church. The sternness of her voice, when she asked him what took him so long. The second her legs gave out on her. Her harsh breathing, when she lay in his arms and the moment M's breathing stopped.

Ever since, that had been the main focus of Bond's dreams. His eyes filled with tears, because suddenly the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. His over protectiveness of her. His intense fear when he heard of the explosion in her office. His need to rush back to England to save her.

Back in the Church Bond was so lost in his grief, that he couldn't even look for the wound. So many women had died in his arms, he was just too bloody used to it. The idea of working on her, trying anything to keep her alive and performing CPR didn't even occur to him. He was so stricken by the concept of losing her in his arms, that she did just that. She died while he stared down at her in helpless despair.

"Mr. Bond?"

The paramedics ran to him, took her away, ripped open her blouse and started to do their job with a portable defibrillator. As Bond watched the scene around him, all he could think about was her stern tone, the one she used with him. Her smirks, her small smiles, her striking blue eyes full of smug righteousness and the iron fist with which she commanded him. The truth was staring him in the face - he couldn't live without her.

James had the same thought about Vesper, but he ignored the signs long enough. It was M. She took precedence over Vesper, every single minute she appeared in his sight. Losing Vesper had hurt, but not this much. He never permitted himself to think about M in terms of sexual attraction before this. She was the only woman he tried to best in every conversation. It was fun and she was a challenge. He was wired that way, flirting with women was his language. Bond respected her too much, to see her as another of his conquests. Yet he wanted to best her and have her concede. It's a masculine power play, he realized, but it was also his way of showing that she mattered. Did she ever see through the act or did she ignore it as if he was just an annoyance?

When M died in front of Bond, he knew he should never have flirted with her. He should have told her how much he liked his job, and given her and indication of his respect. M's not so gentle presence was always with him. She had always trusted him and he let her down in the moment, when everything mattered the most. He let Silva and his men hurt her. He let them kill her. He wasn't good enough, quick enough, skilled enough and he would bear the consequences for the rest of his life.

"Agent Bond!"

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. James carefully turned around, fighting every instinct in his body to hurt the person. His face stayed impassive when he realized it was only a poor secretary. He couldn't kill innocent people.

"M will see you now."

Her demeanor bothered him. She was doing it again. People treated him like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. He didn't give them a reason for his demeanor since the incident.

It started after Tanner had collected him from the scene. He knew Tanner talked to him, but he didn't hear a word. His brain was forcefully screaming -Don't die, I love you!- to the only woman he never touched in that sort of way. The first time he held her in his arms and she was dying. The first time was also the last time. The last he saw of her, the paramedics were trying to make her heart beat again and her lungs breathe.

Bond was, going to see his superior, a different M. Gareth Mallory, and it still rattled him to his core every time people referred to him that way. M was only her codename and there could be only one to him.

"Bond, have a seat."

He couldn't give the slightest fuck about what the man wanted to tell him, so he stood passively in the middle of the room. He would be briefed standing, sitting was too passive for him now. When he didn't want to be here, if he had to listen to this imposter it made his mind wonder. James had so many things he wanted to say to her, things he needed to apologize for and things he wanted to do...

"I need you in the field."

What else. He already gathered that much from simply being called in and standing here.

"This matter... is very sensitive and difficult to approach."

If he wanted a reaction, Mallory would be sorely disappointed. He didn't give a damn about sensitivity on any subject. He wanted to know about the job and that was the end of things. If he could do the job right, maybe that would be the end of it all. His bones were tired and battered from the moment he felt her body sag against his. He felt every single year of his service and he had, had enough. Enough of the gunfights, the explosions, enough of the hand to hand combat and most importantly enough of losing people he loved.

"You should sit down for what I am about to tell you..."

Obviously he had to spell it out to the man. "No, thanks."

Mallory continued regardless. "Someone tried to get to the hospital and killed a very important woman to and from our agency."

So that was it. Babysitting some rich woman Mallory knows, with little chance of action or getting killed.

"I know it may be difficult in your position, to understand my reasons for not telling anyone the truth..."

"Who is she?" Bond asked. This conversation was boring him. He needed a name to start this job and he didn't owe any respect to Mallory.

"Olivia Mansfield."

That information snapped his brain to alert mode. Jesus fucking Christ. She was alive! They let them think she had died! They had to have shipped her to the hospital under her legal name. His heart started to beat madly in his chest.

"When?" He advanced towards Mallory with a murderous glare.

"This morning. Two of her protective detail were found unconscious. Someone tried to get into her room, but didn't count on the third agent in there with her. We had to move her to a private facility. Only three people knew M didn't die, besides me. The problem is...they are the same people who knew about the hospital. These are people in high positions. There isn't a paper trail on her location. There never was. MI6 must have a mole. I can deal with the mole but I need someone I trust by her side. Someone who knows her."

"What...are you talking about?"

"She woke up proximately two hours ago. She's been unconscious for days."

It still doesn't explain, why he would be the right person to guard her. People assumed she was dead and they knew he failed to protect her. His eyes seemed dead from the moment she took her last breath in his arms.

"Why me?" It didn't make sense, he failed the first time and she was horribly hurt because of him.

"She always thought you were the best agent we have... I need you to do your job. According to her doctors, she has amnesia. She could be faking because she doesn't trust anyone. Or she could have lost her memories from the trauma. Your mission, would be to seduce her, if necessary and find out the truth. We need to know what we're dealing with. We can't risk the former head of MI6 spilling government secrets. If she really has amnesia, she's not your former boss. She's your mark and her life depends on your assessment."

Bond's face was impassive, it seemed Mallory assumed he had no scruples. He would and will do anything in this job and it had always been that way. If she ordered him to seduce, kill, interrogate or hurt people, he followed her orders without question.

His loyalty to MI6, had now ended, from the moment they wanted him to seduce M, while she was recovering. She would always be his boss and the woman he loved.

"Where is she?"

Mallory gave him a piece of paper with an address. "Keep me posted. My secretary will give you my private number."

"I will call as soon as I get there."