No One Lives Forever
By: Smurf
Author's Note: This novel features a younger, less mature, suave Bond, starting out his career in the late sixties. It also features the heroine of the No One Lives Forever games, Cate Archer, a shagedelic British superspy, the female counterpart to 007. As these two agents work together in the Cold War era, both find their skills pushed relentlessly by SMERSH, H.A.R.M, and the KGB. Ultimately, the novel tries to give an impression of an early Bond whose emotions and sophistication haven't been quite as refined. Yet.
Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to James Bond and 007, nor do I own anything from the No One Lives Forever games.
One
Moneypenny awoke after a long and decidedly pleasurable night with Bond. It was not every day she had time with him, as he was quite busy with his assignments while wooing other women in exotic places, but the nights she did have were worthwhile.
He was already up, dressed in sandals, loose slacks, a tropical Hawaiian shirt with an equally tropical looking cap. She frowned. It was an odd choice of clothing considering it was a blustering windy autumn day in Cardiff.
"Are you going somewhere, James?"
He looked at her, a sensuous, excited smile playing on his lips as he tried on his sunglasses, looking at the mirror.
"Havana. It appears the Soviets have been sending a large quantity of arms to the revolutionaries. MI6 needs someone to investigate whether these arms are worth destroying."
He turned towards her, still smiling, dark eyes covered with the oversized glasses, while checking his pistol. Moneypenny hid a grin. There were two constants about Bond, no matter if he looked like some local Cuban fisherman or a sophisticated Englishman in a tuxedo: his name and gun. Double-oh-Seven and his sidearm.
"A kiss for luck?" He leaned over the bed, waiting to touch her lips, but his wallet fell out, exposing a picture of a woman. Moneypenny looked curiously at the picture. It was a bit dated, considering the girl donned fashionable sixties apparel, but there was something in that pictured that strongly reminded her of James. Perhaps it was the same kind of smile, or her pretty face and sophistication. Moneypenny looked up to James.
"Who is she?" She asked. It was a question, posed with no hurt or anger. She had enough experience to realise that Bond would always be a womanizer.
For once in her life, she saw something remarkable: a blush, a flush that tinged his ears and cheeks red. He did not meet her gaze, but looked down at his glasses that he was now polishing. His eyes, beautifully dark, was a striking contrast to the lady-in-the-picture's hazel green.
"A past coworker," he said finally. "We worked together during the sixties."
"When you started out for MI6?"
"Yes," he responded, quietly.
Moneypenny was new to the agency; she had never heard of Bond's past life. And now she was curious to do so. She got out of bed, her nightgown falling down to her legs, brushing against her thighs, and walked to the cabinet. Pouring out some Chardonnay, she handed him a glass while pouring another for herself. "There's something strange about her, James, that reminds me of you." Moneypenny was a straightforward woman, clever and more than just some secretary for MI6. She knew some wine would loosen 007's tongue. Sitting in a chair, she sipped some of her own wine.
"Tell me about her."
James looked at her, knowing what she was doing. Clever girl. He sat down on the bed, mentally tired at all the things that were weighing him down. Why the bloody hell not, he thought. He did not need to be at Heathrow Airport for another eight hours. Moneypenny would always be there. She was his constant, always there when he arrived home and always there to present some of his assignments. She had a right to know at least a little about his past.
He downed the wine, and looked at the picture again, unwilling to meet Moneypenny's gaze.
"Her name is Cate Archer. The first thing you should know about her is she taught me something important." He rested his palm by his left chest area, where his pistol was.
"About using sidearms?"
James smiled warmly.
"No. About my heart."