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The office had been deserted all morning, and for most of the afternoon as well. Amherst hadn't even seen M since eight in the morning, after which she'd disappeared into her office for conference calls. And all the agents were off across the globe, several had been for weeks on end. Amherst sighed, tipping back in his wheeled desk chair, one hand on the desk to support himself. The chair teetered a little, balancing on the one wheel.
"Afternoon, Villiers." The crisp greeting made Amherst whip around, and consequently crash to the ground before he could even see who had spoken. Amherst found himself staring at the desk legs, the chair pinning him to the ground, as the door of M's office was opened. Her office was off to the left of the main room, where his desk was.
"Good heavens. First you kill my main leads, and now you're after my aid?" M's prim voice resounded from the doorway. Amherst disentangled himself from the chair on the floor. "Come in." Footsteps, and then the door clicked shut. Amherst righted the chair and stood. He looked from one door to the other, trying to piece together what he'd obviously missed.
"…Bond?"
There was no sign of anyone from M's office by noon, not M herself, and not Bond, whose voice Amherst was certain he'd heard. Amherst wandered off for his lunch break, meeting Jenny at everyone's favorite café down the street.
"There you are!" Jenny chirped when he joined her, waiting for her coffee, "care to make a bet?"
"Definitely." They agreed on twenty, Jenny sure that Bond couldn't possibly manage to get his credit card privileges revoked yet again, Amherst certain he already had.
*
The next morning, Amherst was watching the people down at the street level, moving around on the sidewalk.
"Hello, Villiers." The deliberate, slow greeting made Amherst turn. Bond stood before the desk, hands in his jacket pockets, watching him carefully. Blue eyes, almost alarmingly like ice, studied him.
"Do you have an appointment with M?" Amherst questioned. He knew the answer to this, of course. It may have been a month since they'd last done this, but he recalled the following. No appointment, want to make one, if he must, yes it was necessary, fine put him down for the following day if he so insisted on such a frivolous and superfluous formality, thanks for the cynicism and he had to come back at eight the next morning now please leave the office.
"No." An almost-smile. Bond knew he could get in anywhere. Amherst frowned.
"Would you like to make one?" his hand moved towards the appointment book sitting on the desk.
"No." Bond just stood there, scrutinizing him. He looked more serious than usual.
"No?" Amherst echoed. Bond merely nodded to confirm this. "Then, er… why are you… here?" It seemed a worthy question, but Bond dismissed it, turning his gaze to the window.
"Why do you think?" Amherst had no answer to this strange response. He'd thought, quite apparently, that Bond had intended to see M. The agent stood there for a few more moments, then wandered out again.
James strolled down the hallway, debating what to do next. He'd wandered into the office on a whim, to see exactly why the assistant had been meandering through his thoughts. He blamed that for his slip-up during the mission. Minor as it may have been, it still irritated him to no end. And all he'd learned from his brief visit was that antagonizing Villiers had a certain quality of entertainment to it, and had become something he planned on partaking in again at the next soonest possible date.
*
Amherst had been waiting for the reappearance all week, which eventually came on the following Wednesday. He'd been working on M's appointment arranging, a duty he'd only recently been promoted to taking over from M herself and had since found himself to be rather unskilled at, when the door to the office opened, and Bond strolled in.
"Morning, Villiers."
"Morning, Bond. Here to see M?" Bond was circling around the office almost lazily, hands in his pockets, nonchalant look on his face.
"Merely a formality" This made little sense to Amherst, possibly less than even the last answer a week ago.
"Bond?" the door on the side of the office opened, and M beckoned 007 into the office. "I've been expecting you to drop by sometime."
"Must have been rather dull in the meantime." Bond circled back across the room and followed her.
"Yes, well, we're being granted another two wonderfully dull weeks" M snapped back.
"I'm sure you'll miss me."
"Perhaps. Don't count me as among those who will, Bond."
Villiers turned away from the door, refusing to find out whether he was counted among those people or not.
*
"Afternoon, Villiers." Bond drawled.
"Back so soon?" Amherst didn't turn from the computer screen. "Usually takes longer than two weeks, doesn't it?"
"Completed the mission. And besides, I'm hardly in a state to pursue it any further." Amherst half turned towards him. Bond was, once again, prowling around the office as if he owned it, which he didn't. When he turned, Amherst saw the brace on his left wrist, visible only because the sleeve of the expensive jacket couldn't cover it. "Much as I might try to convince M otherwise."
"You can't convince me because I'm right" M came out of her office, "I can understanding injuring a wrist once. Injuring it again because you were too impatient to wait is sheer idiocy." Bond didn't reply to this, a look akin to haughtiness on his face. M handed off a stack of folders to him, irritation clear from the slap of files hitting Bond's hand. "Reports for you to read. You may have an office, if you like-"
"No" Bond flipped through one of the folders with visible disinterest. "I'll work here." Amherst sighed inwardly, watching M for a sign of anger. Bond was testing her apathy levels again, but at any moment, she was sure to force him into an office and, if need be, lock him in there until the reports were read.
"Whatever gets the reports read" M pivoted and returned to her office. The door clicked shut behind her. Amherst stared after her.
"Here?" Amherst echoed. Bond arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. He left the office, but returned a few moments later with a chair in tow. "May I ask what you're planning to do with that?" A number of things came to mind, and then, because it was 007, several more. Bond continued his silence, and drew the chair up to a corner of Amherst's desk across from him.
"I'm working here." Matter-of-fact tone. Amherst arched an eyebrow.
"So I see." Amherst didn't protest, and there was no way he could have mustered the genuine refusal in any case. Bond situated himself at the corner of the desk to read the reports.
Amherst found it very difficult to concentrate for next few hours.
*
"Good morning, and happy Tuesday!" Jenny called out as Amherst passed her desk. "Care to make a bet today?"
"Maybe" He stopped before her. "What do you have in mind?"
"Ten pounds says he reads four reports today out of the twelve M has lined up for him" Jenny smiled, confidence apparent. Amherst shook his head.
"I say two."
"Perfect."
"Am I allowed to interfere with this report-reading?"
"Good luck" Jenny laughed at the mere suggestion, "Trying to advert his attention from something is like trying to change the course of a train wreck, is it not?"
Amherst found Bond already at his desk, flipping through more reports. He stayed in the doorway, watching the agent, something he didn't get the chance to do very often. Bond had situated himself at the left corner in front of the desk. When he realized what he was doing, though, he slammed the door shut and tore his gaze away from Bond, who had looked around at the sound of the door. Amherst tried his best to ignore the agent, but soon found it impossible.
"You're in a spectacular mood today" Bond commented mildly. Amherst scowled.
"So sorry." He stalked around to his desk, trying to force his movements into something less violent.
"I believe" Bond's voice made Amherst look up, "you've scheduled four appointments for the same day."
"So?"
"At the same time. Or was that intentional?" Amherst snatched back the appointment book from a very smug Bond.
"You're just not reading it correctly."
"I'm sure."
"In any case, who said you're allowed to read it?" He was being petty, and it made him cringe to see the last resorts he'd come to. Bond merely grinned.
"Well if you leave it open…" he began in a very patronizing tone. Amherst resisted the urge to smack him with the book and turned his back instead.
"Very professional of you." he said tightly. Bond snickered and went back to his reading. Amherst found it remarkable that, even when Bond wasn't moving, he still felt like he was being circled by a predator, prowling around, searching for weaknesses. It was a rather unsettling feeling.
*
Amherst took his place behind the desk, watching Bond as if he were a crouching predator. Whenever Bond was in the office, it felt as if 007 was prowling around, deciding when to make his move, whatever it was. Amherst was too scared to ask.
"There's an office down the hall that's vacant, I'm sure of it."
"Here is quite fine." Then he studied Amherst again, in that scrutinizing way he had, "unless I'm that much of an inconvenience to you?" Amherst pondered his answer for several seconds before speaking.
"Do what you wish." He said, dismissive enough to appear apathetic, but not so insistent as to force Bond out of the office.
"You don't mind if I stay?" Bond asked casually. Amherst clenched his jaw.
"Do what you want, Bond."
"I asked if you mind."
"And I said to do whatever you want." Amherst said stubbornly, refusing to even look at Bond.
"Fine then." The finality in Bond's voice made it sound like he planned on leaving, "I'll do what I want." He instead resituated himself at the desk, and made no move to leave. Amherst tried not to find this significant.
*
After a week, Amherst had grown almost accustomed to having Bond nearly at his elbow while he worked. He'd moved from the outside corner of the desk to the inside corner, after M had almost tripped over his chair several times. He was mostly silent, but was sure to take the time to point out how atrocious Amherst's handwriting was, or how he lacked anything akin to talent with computers.
Once Friday was eight hours from being over, though, Amherst was ready to go home. He'd had quite enough of the nagging temptation seated next to him. Bond had pretty much stopped reading reports, reserving his attention for watching Amherst work and remarking unnecessarily on his technique.
"You don't really think it wise to schedule Mr. Jacobs an appointment directly after Ms. Montinique?" Bond asked. Amherst didn't even turn, aware that Bond was reading over his shoulder.
"Why not?"
"M despises Montinique. She'll be in a terribly insufferable mood afterwards, and Mr. Jacobs is a rather valuable client who it wouldn't do good to offend." Amherst nearly growled, and scratched out the appointment.
"I usually don't do the appointments thing" he shot at Bond without looking back at him, in a sort of last defense of himself. "She used to do that herself. I'm still getting better."
"Thank heavens for that."
"You're a dreadful cynic, do you know that?"
"Yes, but it's been a while since anyone's told me that." Amherst glanced back over his shoulder, in time to receive a smile that was half there, part smug and all charmer. He also took too much notice of how Bond had taken off his jacket and had the sleeves of his white button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows. The shirt was almost, if not quite, sheer enough to see the outline of muscles in his chest, and when he shifted to cross his arms over his chest, the muscles in his arms became more defined.
"What?" Bond drawled, seeing the look. Amherst looked away before Bond could see him blush.
"Must you always be so..." Amherst couldn't find a word to describe it and just sighed.
"Yes?"
"Never mind." Amherst nearly growled at him. Several descriptions had come to mind, not a single one of them something he was willing to verbalize. The entire situation was maddening; at least this was Bond's last day in the office. Jenny had already paid Amherst, having lost the bet to him about Bond's report reading progress.
At six, Bond stood, languid in his movements, dragging his chair back to a corner of the office. He routinely left before Amherst did. Amherst was working on the computer when Bond approached the desk again, placing both hands on the desktop, gaze drifting to his face. "Want to go out for a drink?" Amherst stared.
"Why?" he asked slowly.
"Because I'm asking you to." His gaze didn't waver, the shocking blue eyes fixed on Amherst.
"I can't." It was a lie. Both were well aware of that fact. Bond didn't move.
"Eight. Tonight."
"I…"
"Pick you up then."
"But- I have work…"
"Not after eight."
"But…"
"See you then." Bond opened the door. Amherst watched him pause there for just a heartbeat.
"Okay." And the door closed. Amherst just stared at where Bond had been.
James leaned back against the door, exhaling softly. He wasn't quite sure what he'd have done without that soft okay.
This was throwing him off, and he needed it over and done with as soon as possible.
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