Ring ring.
A lazy stretch to the side of the bed.
'Are you really going to answer that?'
Hands felt their way over James' chest, caressing his exposed skin. He broke away to pick up the phone.
'Bond.'
'We all bloody-well know that.'
'M, nice of you to call.' He coughed the sleep from his voice. The girl in the bed pressed her ear as close to the phone as she could manage.
'Don't flatter yourself. I need you in.'
'Can't it wait?' a girlish giggle spliced its way into M's receiver. He sighed.
'This is not what you're paid for.'
'And I'll remember to thank the taxpayer for indulging my lifestyle. Now, if you don't mind, I have a more important case on.'
'Bond, I swear. If you hang up now, I w-' he dropped the phone onto the bedside table. He stroked the girl's hair.
'Where were we?' More giggles. She drew in, and they kissed to the soundtrack of M's fury.
'Bond! When you get down to HQ, you are screwed! BOND!'
Gently, he began to pull away, sweeping the covers off his legs.
'James!' she cried, wrapping the sheets around herself. Her blonde hair lay in tangled rivulets down her back.
'Sorry, my dear. England calls.'
It was less than thirty minutes before 007 arrived at Mi6.
His immaculately tailored suit sat crumpled on his neat frame; it had been a late night. He yawned as he stepped over the threshold of the building. As soon
as he did-
'If you make me look like a tit one more time, you're over, Bond.'
'Good morning to you too.' He began his rapid descent down the glass steps. M followed angrily behind.
'I mean it. This is a serious mission. It can't be put on hold because it's not convenient for you.'
'I understand, Sir. I'm sorry.' A surprisingly firm hand halted James' brisk walk.
'No, Bond, I don't think you do. There are lives on the line here, and we can't risk a repeat of last time.'
'I know, I j-'
'Do you know how many agents we lost, Bond? Too many. I'm not having your bloody playboy attitude let it happen again.'
Pause.
'Sir.'
'You need an ego check, and I know just the man to give you it.'
From the corner of Bond's perifery stepped his Quartermaster. He gave him a sarcastic salute.
'How do you look so radiant so early in the morning?'
'I have my ways.' he winked, his green eyes glinting in the harsh light. He turned to M.
'Good to see you, Sir.'
'Q.' M took his outstretched hand and shook it. 'I was hoping you could get Bond kitted up for the Verona mission, and perhaps teach him some humility while
you're at it.' He smiled.
'The former, no problem. I'm afraid I may have a bit of trouble with the latter.' A warning look from Bond.
'Stick to computers. Comedy's not really your thing.'
'I have no doubt I'll learn, from a thing as sharp as yourself.' He glanced back at M. 'Thank you for bringing him, Sir. I'll start on the mission gear brief
whenever you're ready.'
He clapped his hands and grubbed them together excitedly.
'No time like the present.'
'Quite.' A sly smile crossed Q's lips. 'I'll have him ready within the hour.'
'I have no doubt at all. Good luck.' He said, patting him sharply between the shoulder blades. It was an unconfrontary action, but one that made Q tense. It
was a reminder what that man was capable of...
'You're gonna need it.' He laughed, walking from the room.