Okay, warning at the front this time. No slash. No sex. No nudity. Mature themes, quite possibly. Rating NA.
There was no warning.
The doors slammed opened and a flood of first year undergraduates crashed down on him. Bond struggled to hold his ground and waited. Amongst the bodies pressing past him, he suddenly felt a hand reach out and grab his arm, and the next moment a small wrapped object was pressed into his hand. He spun around, and caught a glimpse of a tall, brown-haired girl slip away into the crowd.
He had got what he'd come for. Casually, Bond walked off, retracing his steps through the campus, pausing occasionally to make way for the odd procession of geese. He walked on, down the winding road, until he reached a large stretch of wasteland, unremarkable save for the small helicopter standing in the middle of it.
The door to the passenger side opened, and Bond climbed smoothly into the seat, as the pilot turned to greet him.
An evil smile was plastered across Alec's face. "Did she give you the package?"
In reply, Bond tore off the wrapping and held up the small vial, enclosed in a clear plastic container, inside. Several labels had been hastily torn off the sides, but half of one still remained, yellow and bearing a familiar three-sided figure: Biohazard.
They waited until the sun had gone down before leaving.
Alec flicked a switch, and the propellers began turning. A moment later, the helicopter took off, leaving no trace of its presence save a patch of flattened grass and a handful of perplexed locals peering out of their windows.
The helicopter swung away, gliding smoothly towards its destination. Bond peered at the map, then pointed. "Target at 10 o'clock." Alec swung the helicopter round, following Bond's directions until they reached the building they had been looking for.
A few students below peered up in curiosity and disbelief, but the darkness, the unusual silence of the helicopter and the students' advanced state of inebriation would later make them unsure of exactly what they had seen.
The helicopter finally stopped, hovering some twenty metres away from one of the windows. This was the target, the place they had been looking for.
Working swiftly and accurately, Bond started to put together the contents of the long oblong box that had been lying underneath his seat. Gradually, the object took shape: a curious cross between a rifle and a catapult. Bond carefully lifted the vial he had been given from its container, and screwed in into place. "Careful not to break that, James," said Alec with a grin.
At last, fully prepared, Bond pressed the button that would wind down his window and leaned out; getting a feel for the distance, making sure that the wind blowing outside would not interfere with his aim. The target's window was open; an unexpected bonus. He could see the target, thoroughly absorbed in the display of a small laptop, her fingers clicking rapidly over the keyboard. Then he turned back to his companion.
Alec's eyes glinted in the gloom. "You know," said Bond, "it does seem a pity…after all, she still has some pieces of writing to finish – that Highlander thing for instance…"
Alec's mouth hardened into a callous smile. "You know she'll never finish them anyway." He took a deep breath, and the familiar look of excitement came into his eyes, the look that mission always seemed to give him. "Ready, 007?"
Bond smiled. "Ready when you are, 006."
Carefully, he lifted the rifle to his eyes, adjusting the sights.
Alec watched him, lips parted in anticipation. "For England, James?"
Still holding the rifle, Bond smiled. "No, Alec. For me. For us."
Gently, he squeezed the trigger, and felt the rifle recoil.
The tiny missile shot through the darkness and through the open window, landing in the room, the impact smashing the top of the glass vial and releasing its deadly contents into the room.
At the desk, the target jerked upright – then relaxed. A bottle broken in the corridor outside, or something similar, no doubt. She turned back to her work.
Outside, the helicopter drifted off. The men inside glowed with satisfaction at a job well done. There remained now only the small matter of hacking into a certain fanfiction archive and deleting a mere page or so of contents – nothing that could not be achieved in a few minutes.
Slowly, the contents of the vial, airborne, spread through the room.
The target began to cough.
A hundred miles away, a girl woke suddenly. Her eyes roamed sleepily towards her bedside clock, and she squinted in the darkness, trying to make out the time. When she did, she smiled a smile of absolute evil, and pure satisfaction. The package had been delivered.
She had her revenge.
Sleep-Not: And this is mine. This is Impending Doom's reaction to my posting of the badfic. I think it's amusing. Oh ho ho ho.