A/N

This was based on a challenge to...write a sex scene. Um, that's about it, but despite having been posting on this site since 2006, I'd never actually written one before. Sure, I'd implied that intercourse had occurred in stories, but never actually depicted it. Still, got round to it and I will say that this is rated M for a reason.

Something to note is that this is very much a 'what if?' scenario. I can't speak with absolute authority on James Bond, in terms of character and concept, but I think it would damage both if the flings in the movies were more 'intense' than what we see. I think it adds to the character IMO, that he can't afford to be too emotionally invested, and every time he's done so, it's ended in tragedy (Vesper, Tracy, etc.) Another thing to note is certain subtext that's present in here, that it could be offensive to some. I would like to say that I am no way suggesting that one has to have intercourse to "be a man" or some other similar concept, but I would theorize to many that it would be an...interesting experience both emotionally and physically. Feel free to speak your mind, but keep in mind that I am not trying to assert some stance on the subject matter depicted.

Free

Christmas Jones rarely gave her bird tattoo much thought.

It was a peace dove apparently, but she'd barely cared at the time. Inscribed on the right side of her belly button, it was simply something she'd wanted and gained in the rebelliousness of her teenage years. Something to show her parents that their precious baby girl was no longer a baby, no longer precious and despite being a girl, wasn't going to conform to out-dated social norms and could get a tattoo if she damn well wanted. Something that only got the job half done, because while she had managed to get a tattoo at the age of 17 without parental consent, it was a tattoo of a peace dove. Not just pretty, but symbolic of everything that was good, just and lovely in their precious baby girl who was now growing up.

A half victory. It took the better half of a victory to get the rest of it. College, application with the IEA, assignment in Kazakhstan…all a victory. A victory put in danger by Renard and Elektra King, but a victory nonetheless. A nuclear catastrophe averted, her job preserved…would have been better if the crisis hadn't occurred at all, but…

But then I wouldn't have met James…

It wasn't love…Christmas knew that. Even as her lips met his, even as the fireworks of Istanbul cast an almost supernatural light over the pair...it was romantic, but nothing more than that. She knew it, and she suspected that James knew she knew it. Even discounting his…interactions with Elektra, he was a spy for the British government. Anyone who put their life on the line to deal with all the shitty stuff that kept going on in the world would be unlikely to make a long-term emotional investment. Nearly dying together could be a bonding experience, but even if she'd never embarked on a relationship before, Christmas knew there was more to it than that. A few days, a week maybe…he'd be back in the UK for debriefing, and she'd be facing reassignment. To him, this…interaction was nothing more than something to work out the stress of nearly dying every few years, or whatever the ratio of years to bad guys was.

And Christmas couldn't fault him for that. She understood, she told herself. Understood as their lips met yet again. Understood as her back moved against the sheets of the bed while her flesh moved against that of the man above her, his hand slowly moving down her breast. Understood as she felt something well up inside her, smiled sadly, then turned to one side.

"Christmas?"

It was more curiosity than concern. Even as she lay there, on the side of the bed, James leant over her.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine…" she said softly. "Just tired…"

James remained silent for a few seconds, the only sound filling the room being that of the fireworks outside. Apparently Istanbul never slept…though gazing at the digital clock on the side of the bed, Christmas saw it was barely past midnight. The morning was young.

"Alright…" James said eventually, kissing her softly on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning…"

"Will you?" she whispered.

The scientist, now not feeling so scientific, turned over to face the man above her. Much of his face was obscured by the gloom, but she could still make out the basic outline of a curious expression.

Just leave it…the doctor's mind told her body. You know the answer…

"Will you be here in the morning?" her mouth asked, ignoring the mind that supposedly dictated its actions.

"At first…" the agent answered. "I'll be needed back at MI6 eventually, but…"

"Yes, of course…" Christmas said. "Of course you will."

The doctor slowly slid up against the wall of the bed while James looked on. Subconsciously, she reached for some sheets and pulled them over her. It was stupid, she told herself. There was nothing to be ashamed of, and there was no point trying to shame James either. This was nothing more than a fling. Long term emotional investment was impractical at best, and impossible at worst. So why did she feel like she needed…wanted…more?

"I'm sorry," Christmas said eventually. "We both know what's going to happen." She looked at the agent's visage. "Does this happen often, James? When some broad like me can't face reality?"

The agent sighed. "Reality…is what I have to face. I failed to do so once…and someone paid the price."

The doctor remained silent. It wasn't a direct answer, but…she understood. Understood more from the look on his face, of painful memories, than any amount of words could give her.

"I understand," Christmas said softly. "It's just…I'm not used to this."

"Pardon?"

The doctor gave a brittle laugh. "What, didn't you notice that I rarely give men a second glance?" Her posture slouched, her hands rubbing her eyes, hair, and she had to fight against the urge to find something to bind it with. "Working in my job…doesn't allow much time to…unwind. Wasn't any different in college either. I…" The slouch now returned to her back being against the sheets of the bed. "I…never allowed distractions. And until now…I never knew I needed them."

It sounded pathetic, Christmas told herself. She was twenty-seven years old, an atomic phycicist who everyone proclaimed to be brilliant at her job, someone who'd saved Istanbul from becoming the next Chernobyl…and she felt like a little girl again. A girl who was feeling insecure because she'd yet to be truly fucked in her life. Her hand stretched down towards her tattoo, to the dove, always carrying its olive branch…

What would happen if it dropped?

"I need something…" Christmas whispered. "I…I can't go back. Not like…like…"

"Not as you are."

The doctor nodded before slowly getting back to a sitting position. In the process, the sheets slipped off again. She didn't mind. She just sat there, in her nakedness. And James looked back. It was like some kind of mating display, though instead of two males fighting over a potential mate, the mate was…

Mate?

Or maybe she was. Her heart was pounding, her pupils were dilating, her hands were gripping the sheets of the bed as if her life depended on it…she felt like both predator and prey. As if she was both in control, and outside it. As if she was ready to pounce…and yet, as it began, it happened slowly.

"Is this…what you want…?" James asked.

Christmas nodded, squeezing his hand as he made his way towards her. They kissed briefly.

"Yes…" Christmas whispered. "Yes…I do…"

Things slowed down. She knew what was about to happen. Knew that she could turn back…but wouldn't. Perhaps she didn't need this…not as an individual at least. But her body was in control, overcoming the last doubts of her mind. And as she felt…something…inside her…something that made the feeling of…something else…come back…she felt as if she'd been reborn.

"Yes…" Christmas whispered. "Yes…yes…"

She spread her hands back, grasping the sheets as her body heaved. Her breathing continued to increase in speed, as if gasping for air. And perhaps she was. From within, something was filling her. From below, the sheets were becoming mangled-no longer crisp and clean, but already wet and moist with sweat. From above, her…companion…made his way over her.

She kissed him again, the smell of saliva and sweat like a perfume.

"Don't stop…" Christmas whispered. "Please…"

James didn't. He kept going. Slowly, surely…Christmas moved in turn. The touch of flesh, the smell of sweat, the taste of lust, the sound of her moans and breaths.

Sight was the dominant human sense. And yet in this moment, in this space, in this…meeting of two bodies and souls, it meant little.

Time seemed to slow, even as the motions became faster. Slowly, Christmas found her five senses becoming one. One…super sense, registering the world around her in sync with the feeling within her. There was some pain, but it was mixed with pleasure.

Need…want…need…need!

Pleasure…she needed it. She extended her arms out from the sheets, now like a small stream of sweat, its fluid perfuming her flesh as fluid of another kind moved up into her.

River…swimming…flowing…flow…need…flow…

Her arms came back, now wrapping them around James. Her mouth mingled with his. It was a small part of what was happening, but her body was in control.

"Yes…yes…yes!"

Was in control of everything. Her heaving hips, her ragged breaths, her beating heart…time was going faster now. Was it near the end? It was hard to tell. The smell of…something…was filling the entire room. And yet, Christmas found it within her to keep her gaze fixed on James. To exchange a final glance of understanding. To do so even as her breaths ended, and became moans and shouts of ecstasy. To briefly reign in her feeling. To take the breath…

"Jaaaames!"

And receive the plunge.

And then it stopped.

Not instantly, but certainly steadily. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. Slowly, she felt something exit her. Slowly, she felt to be in control. It…whatever it was…had happened. No longer happening, but…the smell…the sweat…the moistness…it…had been done. Her body was still on autopilot, still making motions that were no longer needed, but…it was done.

"You alright?" asked a voice.

Fighting exhaustion, Christmas crawled on top of James, spread out beside her. She kissed him…once. It was all that was needed now.

"I'm alright," she said softly. Her senses seemed dim now. Everything was still there, but…it was as if anticlimax was taking its toll on her perception of reality.

"You sure?"

Christmas nodded before kissing him again, utilizing the last of her 'drive.' Slowly, she spread out over him, simply content to lie there in light of what had happened. She stretched out her arms, like a bird taking flight.

Like a dove…

Christmas let out a giggle. "I'm fine," she said, thinking of how close that bird had been to the epicentre of it all. "I'm…free…"

Of what, she didn't know.

But as she lay there, feeling both cold and warmth, feeling James below her and her sweat be lost to the cooling air around her…

She felt free…