"Are you listening to me at all 007?"
Bond looked up lazily, disinterest marking his features. "Listening, sir."
"Repeat what I just said."
"'What I just said'," Bond repeated, smirking. Mallory narrowed his eyes, obviously not appreciating the sarcastic agent's sense of humor. Bond got the hint and sighed. He replicated Mallory's displeasured and reprimanding tone of voice, "Bond, you have no respect for the equipment provided by Q branch. That equipment has saved your life countless times, and yet you seem determined to destroy every piece-"
"Ok enough. Also, I don't sound like that."
"If you say so, Mallory."
Exasperated, Mallory said "Are you ever going to call me M?"
Bond paused for a moment, suddenly serious. "That would be a negative, sir," he said with slight malice in his voice.
Mallory sighed and moved around to the front of the large mahogany desk in his office and leaned back upon it. Bond sat stubbornly in a chair before him, his previous joking demeanor gone.
"You're going to have to get used to it eventually," Mallory said none too gently. He had respect for the old M, he did, she was a remarkable woman who did great things for both MI6 and her country, but it was his turn now, and everyone seemed to understand that except the man sitting before him.
"Your name is Mallory. I will call you Mallory." Bond replied, not much unlike a stubborn child.
"You will call me M," Gareth said sternly as he crossed his arms, leaving little room for argument.
Bond stood to his feet, putting himself at an equal height, and the men now stood about three feet apart.
"With all due respect sir, I will do no such thing."
It had quickly become a pissing match- the one side trying to establish his role as a new and respectable leader, the other side vehemently refusing to let go of the past.
"It's been four months Bond," Mallory uncrossed his arms and waited a few moments for his agent to say something. No reply. Guess it's time to try a different tactic, Mallory thought. "I'm not trying to take her place…" he said, now with a hint of softness to his voice.
Bond stood silently, his trained face void of any emotion. Mallory sighed in frustration; he seemed to do that a lot around Bond.
"Why don't you tell me why you refuse to call me M."
Bond's eyes narrowed a bit, seemingly trying to determine whether or not to answer the question or simply skirt around it like he did so often. Oh how he wanted to tell Mallory how he really felt about him… there was just something about the man that Bond didn't entirely trust. Yet.
The agent finally spoke, "That title was previously held by a very respectable woman, Mallory, a woman who saved my ass countless times. I respected her. I trusted her. I don't apply either one of those traits to you, sir." Bond knew he was pushing his luck, but he didn't stop himself. "I accept you as my boss, but I don't trust you. I don't like you. And I certainly don't trust you to stick up for my sorry ass when I need it."
Gareth Mallory stood there, examining his testy agent while trying to keep the smirk off his face. He was actually slightly relieved. Every time the two men were in a room together Mallory could feel the distaste radiating off Bond. They needed to have a 'heart-to-heart', as his mother had called it, before they could move on and work together.
"I'll promise you one thing Bond," Mallory said, "One day I'll save your sorry ass, and then you'll be forced to call me M."
Bond looked at the man before him for a moment.
"Deal, sir."