M sat back in her chair with a deep sigh and closed her eyes. She was getting too old for this. After a few moments, she took a deep breath. Through the intercom she asked Moneypenny to come with tea, Earl Grey specifically. M looked through the files of her two agents while waiting. When Moneypenny brought the tea, M just motioned toward the small table between the two large arm chairs in the corner of her office. Without a word, Moneypenny retreated, and M pushed the middle of the hidden buttons underneath her desk. A small door in the back of the panelled wall opened.

"Come in, Ethan."

Her voice was quiet and she sounded as tired as she felt. She looked up when the young man entered the room silently. He looked around as if expecting someone to hide behind the heavy furniture.

"They're gone, Ethan."

"The wolves as well?"

He had a pleasant, low-pitched voice.

"You saw them?"

M indicated for him to sit in one of the large armchairs. She opened one of the drawers in the desk and took out a bottle of Lagavulin and a she went over to sit opposite Ethan in the other chair.

"No, just felt them. They are strong, both of them."

"Yes," M fell silent for a moment, pouring herself a glass of whisky. "I don't think I'll be able to find a second guide. Someone who would be able to cope with the other one as well."

Ethan contemplated M's word, holding the cup of tea in his hand.

"You'll be sacrificing one of them? Wouldn't the other one refuse to work for you?"

M closed her eyes.

"I can't let them continue like this, Ethan. And if you manage to bond with one of them—it may take some time, but no, he wouldn't turn down the work. Not in the long run. Both of them need the work. It takes precedence over anything else."

Ethan sipped his tea, in deep thought.

"I won't be able to make the choice for them. But you know that, don't you?"

"I know. But it must be done. You must find a way to make them choose."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, mother," Ethan said with an almost smile. "It's the aftermath, I'm uncomfortable with."

M watched a small black cat walk under the desk. Her eagle owl was throning on one of the other chairs, watching the cat with a restraint interest.

"She's so small," M said, frowning. "Why is she still so small?"

"I don't know, mother."

Ethan watched the cat stroll towards the owl, jumping up on the chair and without any hesitation, snuggle in between the owls large claws and soft feathers. The owl was not moving, just blinked slowly with her large eyes as if pretending not to care what the cat was doing.

"I'm fine. He," Ethan paused. "He was good for me. We weren't a perfect match. I think that's why she hasn't grown much."

"You were too young, Ethan."

M didn't look at her son. She held her glass with both hands, elbows resting on her knees, lost in thought.

"Mother," Ethan had reached out and tentatively put a hand on M's shoulder. "He was good for me. He taught me so much—how to control this. How to take care of myself, block out the world if need be."

When M just shook her head, Ethan sat back in his chair and took another sip of tea.

"Look at her. She is content now. It's been a year."

M turned her head and looked at her son. At a glance, he looked young, in his early twenties. But small crinkles, lines carved by laughter more than sorrow, the solemn look in his eyes hidden behind glasses, presented an older, maybe even wise man.

"They don't know you're a guide, do they?"

Ethan tried to change the subject, but M could hear a genuine curiosity in his question. He had never been at MI6 before. She had kept him away from this part of her life, hoping she would be able to protect him from the this dark side of government and society. It was a necessity, but took its toll on everyone who had to make decisions about life and death.

"Only very few people here know. And it's better this way."

"You would be strong enough to be a guide for one of them."

It was an innocent suggestion. Something, M herself had given a bit of thought. Again, she shook her head.

"It wouldn't work out. Not in my position. I'm not even sure we would be compatible."

Ethan watched her closely. She had to look away. He knew her too well.

"You still miss father."

She shrugged. Yes, she missed him. Every day, every hour. When he died, she had thrown herself into work, had climbed the ladder, become head of MI6 in no time. She was respected and known for her ruthlessness, towards herself as well as her employees. Her son had been a well guarded secret. But she couldn't lose both of her best agents. Not now, with the challenges facing England and the world. And Ethan would be a valuable asset for the agency.

She poured another glass of whisky and allowed herself to relax a bit. Ethan took some more tea and together they started reminiscing about a time, when the world had been a more peaceful place.