A/N: This takes place after Quantum of Solace. I'd like to think that James has lightened up a bit after realizing Vesper loved him.

Disclaimer:I don't own James Bond or anything associated with him.

The first time he saw her, he was trailing the man MI6 simply called Quake. Quake was a notorious international terrorist, and Bond needed to find out why he was in London.

It was February, and snow swirled lightly through the air. Downtown was bustling. Quake walked quickly and with a purpose. James frowned. Not a good sign. Quake was obviously after somebody. He quickened his pace, careful to stay far behind the man.

The light wintry breeze had ruffled his short, blond hair. He was bundled in a black coat that did not seem to be warm enough, despite the fact that he had bought it in Russia. His phone vibrated in his pocket. James pulled it out and glanced at the screen. MI6 had transferred tracking information to the GPS in case he lost sight of the terrorist. The phone slid back into his pocket.

Quake had stopped in front of a restaurant and was talking on a cell phone now. James slipped between several people and slowly, with his head down, made his way closer. He was still about 30 feet away from Quake when an expensive black sports car pulled up in front of the restaurant. The man sitting in the passenger seat jumped out and spoke rapidly to Quake. The door to the restaurant opened.

An attractive young man walked outside, and he held the door, smiling, at the woman behind him. His face was smooth, and he had light brown hair that was styled so the bangs were flicked upward out of his face. His dark blue eyes followed his friend as she exited behind him. James' light blue eyes followed her as well. She was lovely, with long, wavy golden hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail. A few short strands of hair fell around her face. Her brown eyes met her friends, and they laughed. They were both dressed warmly; she was wearing a black pea coat and a scarf with skinny jeans. She was the only person James noticed.

The couple made it ten feet from the door before Quake and his partner approached them. James froze, watching as their eyes widened with fear. He guessed that the two terrorists were pointing handguns at them. Quake gestured to the car. The young man slowly walked up to it, Quake following him with the gun. They both got into the car, and the moment the doors closed, the tires screeched against the snowy road. James sprinted to the man and the girl as the car flew down the street. He pulled out his gun and clicked off the safety.

He reached them, and the man seemed to snarl silently. "You have a friend," he growled at her. She panicked.

"I don't know him!"

The gun was visibly pointed at her now. James brandished his and pointed it at the man's forehead. "Let her go." The man's head jerked towards him, and the woman exploded into action.

In about five seconds she bested Quake's partner. The gun was still pointed at her, and she brought both of her hands up before slamming them both into either side of his wrist. One hit the trigger finger, and drove the gun towards him. James grimaced as the man's finger bone snapped. She shoved his gun holding hand into his chest, daring him to pull the trigger and shoot himself. Then she dealt a painful side kick to the gut that sent him flying. As the terrorist hit the ground, James shoved the gun back into his coat, grabbed her arm, and ran.

They sprinted down the sidewalk, dodging people. Once she had recovered, the young woman was able to easily keep up with him. "You can let go of my arm now!" she yelled. His fingers loosened, and she shook off his hand.

"This way!" he shouted at her, and took a sharp left turn down an alley. She sprinted after him, and he continued to fly between buildings. James wondered if the man had gotten up yet. He doubted it; the young woman seemed to know how to knock people around.

After running for about five minutes, they were almost to his car. His legs were beginning to ache, and his breathing was more rapid. His chest burned. He could hear the girl running along behind him beginning to gasp for air. "Just a little farther," he gasped behind him. She seemed to increase her pace.

He skidded to a stop in the snow, and the woman slammed into him from behind. "Sorry!" she wheezed. James grabbed her hand and starting jogging. They were behind a large office building to the right, and a chain link fence hemmed them in on the left. James led her to the edge of the building to a small parking garage. He vaulted over the short wall, and she followed. He continued to run towards the only vehicle parked on the level: his car. James whipped out his keys and unlocked the car with the remote. He flung open the passenger door for her, then jumped over the hood and opened his door. He slid in quickly and buckled up.

"Connect me to M," he barked as the seat belt clicked. He reached over and slammed his door shut.

"Connecting," the car replied coolly. He shoved the key into the ignition and twisted it. The engine roared to life, and he stomped on the gas. The woman watched him with an interested look on her face. Their eyes met and his mouth twitched into a smile. His gaze flicked back to the road, and he whipped sharply out of the parking garage. The car raced down the street.

"Bond, where are you?" M's voice demanded from the control console of his car.

"Driving."

"What about Quake?"

"I need you to track license plate number HIN 7380 through my car," he replied. Silence. He glanced at his passenger again. She was still watching him.

"Who are you?" she whispered. Her lovely face looked pained. He smiled.

"Bond. James Bond."