Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond. I don't own Alec Trevelyan either (alas), nor anyone or anything else you recognize. James, Alec, etc. are all property of Ian Fleming and MGM. I'm just playing with them for a while. Not making any money, don't have any money, please don't sue!
A/N: Written for the "Faith" challenge on the LJ slashthedrabble community. Of all my James/Alec stuff, it's the only one that's ff.n-safe.
A Little Faith
"Have a little faith, 007." In the dark, James can't see Alec's expression, but he can hear his smirk.
Through his night-vision binoculars he could see the heavily fortified cabin, backed up against a rock face which limited the angles of approach. The place was a KGB safe house where a traitor -- a former MI6 junior analyst named Jeff Shearer -- was being hidden out. Alec had been down there for an hour and a half, before sneaking back to their hide-out. That was fifteen minutes ago, and there's been no sign of immanent destruction.
In the dark, all his other senses expanded. He was hyperaware of the sound of Alec's breathing, the warmth of his body as they huddled together against the bitter cold of the Siberian wilderness. The smell of sweat and gun oil and cordite.
From the valley below, there came a low rumble. He dialed in the binocs for better magnification, just as the rock face the safe house was built against started to crumble. Within minutes the cabin, and anyone inside, was crushed beneath tons of rock.
"Oh you of little faith," Alec said. "You should know by now; I always get my man."
