Gareth Mallory is brilliant. He is quiet, powerful, and completely work oriented and devoted to his country. However, even a powerful and smart man like himself needs a person to lean on. A quote he favours stands testament to this: Behind every great man is a great woman.
This woman is name Guinevere. She's not his wife and not his lover, but she's his young assistant. She is always there, every day. And somehow she always magically knows what he needs.
For example, today he is feeling ill. Not just a typical cold, that doesn't bother him, but instead he's feeling so horrendously stomach sick that his skin has an unhealthy, waxy look and his fever has ranged well over one hundred degrees. He's sitting at his large wooden desk, staring at the black digital clock sitting beside his MacBook Pro. He's shut all the curtains in his office, so only the lamp is emitting a soft, yellow glow in the room. He has a meeting in forty-five minutes with a representative from the FBI office in Washington named Mr. Jones. However, with the way he's feeling, he would rather be shot in the shoulder again than have to listen to this obnoxious American who is going to boast about his country's superior security systems.
He hears a knock on the door and he forces himself to sit up straight and neaten his jacket before speaking. "Come in," he responds.
The door opens and in walks Guinevere. She smiles and quickly shuts the door behind her. She's wearing stiff black trousers, with a loose white blouse and impossibly high red heels. He simply doesn't know how she manages to stay upright in those death traps. Her long black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail and he notices that she's wearing a small set of diamond studs, something he had given to her for her birthday last year. He wondered if giving gifts was unprofessional, but his job wouldn't work nearly so well without her behind him so he simply said "shag it" and left the small gift on her desk. She's worn them nearly every day since she received them.
She walks towards him holding a tray with several steaming mugs. She places them in front of him and he looks up at her questioningly, while she sits on the edge of his desk, her heels ghosting over his knee.
"Ginger tea to help nausea, peppermint tea for calming the stomach, water so you don't get dehydrated and saltine crackers, because you can't forget to eat. I've told Mr. Jones you have a previous engagement and the meeting can only last one hour and then I've taken care of some of your following paper work so you can depart early without too much fuss." She tells him and hands him the steaming cup of ginger tea before offering him one of her dazzling smiles and beginning to walk out of the office.
"What would I do without you, Gwen." He sighs before leaning back and sipping the ginger tea. That's something he often says. He feels the ache in his shoulder, and his thoughts are brought back to the time Silva attacked…
He listens to M as she reads her poem from Tennyson. Her elegance and refusal to back down quietly makes his admiration for her grow even more. However, before she has the chance to finish her words, the door flies open and the blond, crazed Silva comes in, a gun already pointed. In a flurry of bullets, he launches himself over his desk and rushes towards the aged woman, pulling her out of the way just in time to save her from Silva's bullet, which instead lodges itself in his shoulder.
He falls to the stone floor, clutching his arm and gritting his teeth to keep himself from shouting as pain from the wound seeps through every inch of his body. The fighting, screaming and bullets don't lessen. He's about to pull himself up, when he feels a pair of hands on his arm.
"You okay, sir?" she asks quickly as she hunches down beside him, trying to avoid the flying bullets. He can tell she's scared, of course she is. Her job description didn't include guns. But she quickly takes his good arm and pushes him over to where M and Tanner are huddling behind a desk. She brings her knees to her chest, and he sits almost on top of her, his arm draped over his PA's legs. He noticed that sleeve of her tan dress is now scarlet, no doubt thanks to the blood coming out of his shoulder.
"Sir, you're bleeding!" she squeaks as she looks up, her wild black hair has come loose of bun and is now covering most of his arm and her face.
"I've noticed that, thank you for the observation, Gwen." He responds through gritted teeth. 007 has made his appearance, thank God. Then he also notices a security guard shot dead in front of them, but his gun is now sprawled out only a few feet away. He jumps out of his spot and grabs the gun, shooting one of Silva's henchmen dead before dropping against the large oak door. He looks up at 007, who winks at him quickly before shooting the fire extinguishers and causing the room to fill with white smoke. Moneypenny starts ushering the chairmen and ministers out of the room, while Tanner and M quickly rush to the door Gareth is holding open. Silva disappears, and Bond rushes after him.
Guinevere is leading some of the other frightened people out of the room and towards the now open door, until she turns her attention back to her boss who is leaning against the large door on the opposite side, holding it shut. She has kicked off her heels and now runs towards him barefoot. She comes sliding to a stop and begins inspecting his shoulder, while he finally lets out a groan.
"I… I did not expect the afternoon to go like this." She says, her teeth chattering together from her nerves. She looks up at him with her wide brown eyes, and fright is still evident in them. He puts his good arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, offering a moment of comfort in a time of chaos. She buries her face into his chest and he presses his lips onto her head.
"It's over for now. He's gone." He whispers as he feels his PA begin to tremble. They stay like that for only thirty seconds before they both shake each other off, make sure everyone is out of the room and then Guinevere forces him to go to an awaiting ambulance.
As she takes out her phone, desperately trying to call Tanner to see where M is, while simultaneously answering the medics question about his medical history because he's too busy on his own phone talking to the Prime Minster himself.
"Blood type?" the medic asks as he cuts off the sleeve of his blue shirt.
"O negative," Gwen answers as she paces back and forth, still barefoot and still covered in her boss's blood.
"Sir, we're trying to keep the situation detained as best we can." He responds to his Prime Minster who's practically yelling at him.
In the flurry of commotion, pain and screams he sees a back car pull up and his PA points to it, indicating it's waiting for them. He feels relief to get out of this chaos, even if just for a second.
"What would I do without you," he mouths to her. She offers him a small smile before returning to her phone.
His eyes drift to her as she walks out of his office. He knows he'll be able to tolerate the meeting now with his ginger tea and his PA waiting outside for him.