Disclaimer: same as before. Mary Pat is my baby but the plot is Ian Fleming's, the Gunmen are Fox's and I am still broke and so not intending any copyright infringement

A/N: Sorry I know the POV changes a lot but it was taking to long to have everything happen in Mary Pat's verbose narrative, besides then the Gunmen NEVER would have gotten here. Ohh she the old chapters for shinny new re-writing, if you haven't already!

He wasn't Heathcliff, or the Dread Pirate Roberts. No, I was stuck with an underfed computer geek who reminded me of a dorm mate and I had at university, until he was arrested for computer fraud. At least he had long hair, but it didn't bounce with body and brilliance as one might picture a literary hero. In fact Langly hair hadn't been washed or brushed in days and the bug bites on his face made him look like a teenaged employee of Blockbuster (the one that has actually seen every movie in the store). Not that I am in the practice of judging people, I merely sized him up as a potential rescuer. Then I faced my inevitable doom.

At least I would die in a motel with a man by my side so my friends wouldn't say I had died without love during my eulogy. Actually I spent a lot of time picturing my funeral. My weeping mother with her flavor of the month boy toy. My shaken father and his new, practically statutory wife, smelling like gin and accusing my mother of killing me. And my friends, (half of which hadn't showed up, as they couldn't arrange for baby sitters for their husbands) impeccably dressed and solemn. Oh yes it would take years of extensive therapy to remove the pang of guilt about my untimely demise. Oh and there would be a T.V movie, with many love scenes between Mary Pat and Langly…ew.

"EARTH to…Mary Anne."

"W-what?"

"Hey Mary Sue."

"Mary Pat!"

"Yeah, you like went cationic there. I thought you might have been recharging your lithium battery man. Nagging takes energy."

"So why'd you bother me?"

"If I have to die, I'd like to be from those goons out there, not from you bitching my head off."

"You're a prick."

"Anyway, Princess Pain-in-the-ass, thought I'd inform you we're alone for the night."

"How romantic, shall I slip into something sexy?"

"No I uh meant, we have like four hours of premium escape time."

"And how might I ask, do you know this?"

"While you off in your little fantasy world, I listened through the door," Langly held up a glass.

"Wow boy scouting in action."

"Yeah well this Boy Scout, waited until wingus and dingus out there went to sleep."

"So?"

"So now we do some serious planning, do these windows like, open."

"Yeah, and you can kick the screen open."

"Can you fit through it?"

"Sure."

Langly had the nerve to look skeptical.

"Well any way we jump out the window and run to my car."

"That's it?"

"Um yes?"

I hated to admit it but that was horribly depressing. I could have thought of that, except my mind kept racing to the most daring exit, helicopters, explosions, and floods. I had entirely over looked the window. Langly could have turned the handle on the door and casually sauntered out past the sleeping captors while I conjured how exactly Harry Potter was going to leap off the page and whisk us off to Hogwarts.

"Well?"

"Sorry, I'm coming" I stood behind Langly as she slid the window open. It was very small he punched out the screen and shook his wrist pitifully, before turning ever so gallantly to me.

"Ladies first."

Let me say, in my defense it a VERY SMALL window. I work out at the gym, and my figure is quite desirable for a woman my age, in fact a senior in high school might only have the slightest difference in waistline. I jumped out Hands first and nearly made it…my hips however had other plans. I tried to push with my arms.

"Langly!" I whispered "I'm stuck!"

Langly laughed although he tried to keep it to a whisper and he said. "I can uh get you out."

"Please!"

Suddenly I felt two bony hands on my butt shoving me out the window. I looked like the Winnie-the-pooh stuck half-in rabbit's hole and a minute (an eternity) later I landed face first into the wet grass. Langly squirmed out blushing and he fell, on top of me.

"Sorry! Sorry! I uh, fell! Really!" he said getting up; his panicky voice was rather cute at that moment.

"Don't do that often do you?"

"No…hey!"

I tried really hard not to giggle. "To the Langly mobile." I whispered.

We did not escape at this time. I just thought I'd mention it as not to lead my dear reader on. No, outside was the smaller, as-of-yet-un-named large man. He appeared to be breaking into Langly's car at that moment in particular. If he hadn't seen us, we wouldn't have escaped anyhow, what with getting back through the window, and by the look of the goons, knife in hand, that car wouldn't be able to leave, ever.

"Well look who came out for a stroll." He said. He had the face of a gothic gargoyle someone had smashed the face in on. He had lost many pieces and had the remainder sewed back together. And it appeared one of his eyes I hadn't noticed previously, was glass. "Chicky, you shouldn't be out at night, lotsa creeps out, like me."

"Back off uh…you!" Langly attempted an insult I think. "Mary Kate run!"

"Yeah that sounds like a good idea." I took off, at the fastest speed a librarian has ever run, Langly sprinting close by. I didn't know how long we would run like this, I imagined we duck behind lush foliage and he'd run past. Then Langly and I would sleep in trees and be discovered by forest rangers in the morning, no worse for the wear.

My lungs had a different agenda. They locked and took on fourteen tons apiece. I know I was breathing but my throat wouldn't cooperate. Langly noticed too as I collapsed on the grass. "Margaret! Margaret! Shit." he said, at least my memory insists he called me Margaret. I heard other voices, apparently goon one hollered for goon two. They both ran out.

"Poc---ket," I gasped to Langly.

He leaned in closer, until his hair touched my chest and his ear nearly laid on my lips.

"Say that again." he said.

"Pocket." I'm not sure how I managed to say the whole thing. God likes me or something. As soon as I said it Langly hands felt all my thighs. He was very warm, breathing hard as he reached into my right pocket and fumbled out an inhaler.

"This?" he said but didn't try to make me reply, he put the plastic tube in my mouth and I inhaled, twice. I felt the medicine in my throught, opening the way for air. I took a few harsh breaths before nearly regaining a fast, but nearly regular rhythm.

"Don't do that again, okay?" Langly said, he looked very drained and a mousquetto drank from his forhead but he forced a smirk. I know he meant it as a smile.

That's when wingus and dingus caught up