REJECTED!
By Serena
A/N: Short oneshot that I felt the need to write. Don't know why.
Disc: Don't own, don't sue.
James Bond, special agent 007, the world's most smooth and envied man alive, brushed off his perfectly fitting polo t-shirt as he finished his morning stroll on the beach. He was on assignment to catch the evil criminal L'Evil Criminale II, and so far, he had won four games of poker and two women in those games, raced a daredevil in his sports car and beaten him into the dust, and punched out two old geezers who mistook him for the valet. His ego couldn't take such a disgrace!
As he sauntered back into the resort, he glanced around for any beautiful women to get. The front desk lady was fat and ugly. The maids were fat and ugly. All the other women seemed to be married – which didn't stop him – but they were fat, ugly, and old.
"C'mon, Jamesy-boy," he muttered to himself. "There's got to be a girl around here somewhere."
Just as all hope seemed lost, he spied a young woman, an unaccompanied young woman, entering the building. She was slim, very pretty, had strawberry blonde hair and enchanting hazel eyes and was digging through her purse.
"Jackpot," he grinned, and moved towards her to make an "accidental" run-in. Sure enough, she did bump into him as she looked down into her purse, and the contents spilled out onto the floor. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologized smoothly.
"No, no," the girl sighed as she knelt down and began to pick her things up, "It was my fault. I should've been looking where I was going."
James smirked and leaned down at the last minute to pick up the last element, sweeping a glance over her body. "No trouble," he said slyly. "But I fear I messed up the contents of your purse. Allow me to make up for my blunder."
She took the pen from him and gave him an uncertain smile. "No, really, that's okay."
She's just being coy. No one can resist me, he thought arrogantly. "No, I insist. Dinner, this evening. Six o'clock. It's on me." He shot her a dashing smile and walked away. All to easy –
"Excuse me?"
James frowned at the irritated tone in her voice and turned around. "Yes?"
To his astonishment, she was glaring at him. "Listen," she said, "Thanks for the help... what little help you gave me, but I can't come tonight. Previous engagement."
"Tomorrow night, then," he nodded.
"No!" She hissed.
His eyes widened. What was going on?
"Look, buddy, but I don't know who you are or where you got the guts to just think that I'm going to go out with you the second we meet. For all I know you could be a murderer or something!"
"I'm not a murderer," James began to protest when he realized that that wasn't true. "Well, all right, so I am a murderer…"
"And you've obviously got the biggest ego this side of the U.S. to believe that I'd actually be interested in you!" She was now shouting.
"Me? Ego? I beg your pardon-"
"And you didn't even help me! I bet you 'bumped' into me on purpose just so you could ask me out!"
He was shocked. How did she –
"So, no! I'm not going out with you, mister! Not tonight, or tomorrow, not EVER!"
"But… I am James Bond!" He said, stunned. "Double-oh-seven! You have to go out with me! It's… it's like a rule! I always get the girl!"
"Not this girl!" She sneered and stormed off. Before she left his sight, she whirled around and yelled, "CONSIDER THIS YOUR FIRST REJECTION!"
James went pale. "Re… reject… I've been… me… James Bond… rejected?" He squeaked. "NOOOOOO!"
Yes, I am the Queen of Pointless Oneshots. Do I get a crown? No? Dang. Reviews? That's up to you.
- Serena
