Chapter 2: Who in the hell are you?

Special thanks to Matthew Ceakin for my first. Review. EVAAAA! Well, first in a while anywhosles. Merci beaucup, and keep readin', 'cos it's only gonna get better!

            007 edged out of the car. He realized where he was. Statue Park. Wade had brought him here earlier, he remembered. It was quite creepy in the half-light of the crescent moon and dimly twinkling stars. Slowly threading his way among the shattered and broken relics, a strangely familiar voice calmly remarked, "Hello, James." If he were not the uber-collected 00 agent that he was at all times, he would have had a bit of a seizure. Just a little one. Even though he did freeze, quickly spin and point his gun towards the voice, and froze at what—at who—he saw.

            Alec Trevelyan, formerly 006, slowly stepped forward into the light, wearing a smirk and a quite painful-looking scar on his face.

            "Alec?" Bond asked slowly, feeling his heart sink.

            "Back from the dead. No longer just an anonymous star on the memorial wall at MI-6." He paused, seeing the stricken look on Bond's face. "What's the matter, James? No glib remark? No pithy comeback?"

            James could only gasp out "Why?"

            Alec laughed bitterly. "Hilarious question, particularly from you. Would you ever ask why? Why we toppled all those dictators, undermined all those regimes? Only to come home 'Well done! Good job, but sorry ol' boy! Everything you've risked your life and limb for has changed!'"

            "It was the job we were chosen for," Bond steeled himself, feeling that all his beliefs were going to end up on his shoes.

"Of course you'd say that." Alec sighed with an air of resignation. "James Bond, Her Majesty's loyal terrier. 'Defender of the so-called Faith'. Oh please, James, put it away," He indicated the gun. "It's insulting to think that I haven't anticipated your every move."

Bond lowered his arm, knowing that his old friend was right. "Yes…I trusted you, Alec."

"Trust. What a quaint idea." The slightly shorter man mused.

"How did the MI-6 screening miss that your parents were Lienz Cossacks?"

"Once again, your faith is misplaced. They knew. We're both orphans, James. While your parents had the luxury of dying in a climbing accident, mine survived the British betrayal and Stalin's execution squads. But my father couldn't let himself or my mother live with the shame of it. MI-6 figured I was too young to remember. And in one of life's little ironies, their son goes to work for the government who caused a father to kill himself and his wife." Trevelyan finished somberly.

            "Hence Janus." Bond nodded. "Two-faced Roman god come to life."

            Alec was mad now. "It wasn't God who gave me this face, it was you. Setting the timers for three minutes instead of six."

            "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Bond asked incredulously.

            "No. You're supposed to die for me." Alec slowly turned away.

            "This is all very touching, truly it is. Honestly." If the two men had lived about eight years in the future they would have recognized the drawl as a Jack Sparrow impression, but as they didn't, they turned towards the voice, guns drawn.

            "Oopsie."

            There was the sound of a slap. "Nitwit."

            "Couldn't help it, Boots." A pause. "I believe it is safe to say that we are hoddaited and amullundated. Shall we reveal ourselves then?"

            "Well at least we're wearing our normal clothes, I'd feel a bit silly in what we were wearing before, ne?"

            "Yesyes. Rather."

            "Certainly."

            "Indubitably."

            "Uh-huh."

            "Nyork. I think they're getting annoyed." It was true; the two men were beginning to question the brilliance of their idea.

            "Oh, auta miqula orqu, loon."

            "Orcs are all ucky. I would much rather kill them than kiss them. Now Boro…" The sound of fangirlish drooling was heard.

The once-friends both asked "Who in the hell are you?", then looked horrified at having the same thought.

"Hoom! Do not be hasty." One said in a very Entish manner. A white washcloth was taken out of a pocket and tied to a stick.

"Shoot us not, please. We are unarmed, except for our sharp wits and…stuff. Yes." The shorter one said, standing up and waving the makeshift flag.

"Mae govannen, mellryn nin." The blond one bowed.

"Twit, you just said 'Well met, my mallorn trees.' It's 'Mae govannen, mellyn nin', not mellryn."

            "Oh yeah. Ehehe. I remember when we said that in front of Haldir once and he went berserk."

            "It's still cool, though."

            "So 'tis." They both noticed that the two men were looking at them like they were from Mars. "Uh, hi. I don't believe we've met…"

            "To restate what I asked earlier, who in the hell are you?" Alec asked.

            The dark-haired one looked at her partner in madness. "Should we do it Team Rocket style?"

            "Why in the name of the almighty Sean Bean would you ask me that? Of course we should!"

            "I dunno, it might scare them."

            "Okay, okay." The blond one sighed. "Hi, I'm Kitkat. Kitkat the Uber Gecko. I like horses."

            "And I am Kitty, the Outcast of MI-oh bugger all." Kitty stopped mid-title, as she was in exactly the wrong continuum at exactly the wrong time with exactly the wrong people to finish.

            "No, no, do go on." Bond said pleasantly. "The Outcast of MI-what?"

            Kitty gulped. Holy Valar, she was in trouble. "The Outcast of MI-6."

            Bond raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."

            "It's only a stupid title I made up, doesn't mean anything." Oh smeg, I revealed the title I based on Trev-san in front of him, smegohsmegohsmeg… she thought.

            "And who might you gentlemen be, oh ones-who-are-holding-the-guns-that-are-very-painful?" Kitkat asked to divert attention from her friend.

            "Why should we tell you?" Bond again.

            "Eternal skepticism of the mad British mind." Kitty observed.

            "She's got you there." Alec smirked.

            "Who asked you?"

            "We did. Hey, at least we told you our names."

            Bond smiled disarmingly. "I suppose it would be unchivalrous…Bond, James Bond."

            "Alec Trevelyan."

            Kitty smacked Kitkat a high-five. "What did I tell you? I WEEEEEEN! I was RIGHT!"

            "Right about what?"

            "Nothing in particular. And now, back to your regularly scheduled verbal torrent."

            "Oh, and by the way, I did think of asking you to join my little scheme, but somehow I knew, 007's loyalty was always to the mission, never to his friends." Alec walked off. Bond raised his gun, but was tranqued by a sniper.

            Alec slowly meandered back towards his old friend. "For England, James."

            "COOL!" Kitty yelped. "So, uh, can we follow you around? Please?"

            "Why? You'll probably get killed." Alec asked bemusedly.

            "Because we want to and we have nothing better to do. Oh, and the fact that we think that you're uberly-cool." Kitkat nodded sagely.

            "Do I know you or something?"

            "No."

            "Ah."