SPECTRE – Silence Alludes Me
James Bond was not meant for such a life
James knew the truth about himself, even as he walked away from MI6, as he ran off to some dark, quiet corner of the world with Madeleine. It was easy to forget the years in the service, the faces of the men he killed, the kisses of the women he slept with (the smile of the woman he loved) when Madeleine looked at him just so, when she touched his face and he felt worthy of such a woman.
But he knew. He knew what he was, and he knew that whatever calm he was about to dive into, it would never last long, much like his 'death' after being shot down from a moving train, something few people (if any) could claim to have survived pretty much as unscathed as he did. However lovely a life with Madeleine could be, and by all that was precious in the world, but he wanted to spend all the quiet moments of his life by her side, James Bond was not a man who could do 'soft'.
Softness was for men who had not beaten the life out of countless others, who had not seen the people he loved die, who didn't feel rattled by the heaviness of their bones after so many years just running from one mission, one problem, one lover, one near death experience to the next. Softness was for men who were known more for their own name than a transitory, blank number such as 007. He'd never been told outright, but he knew some other sad sap would take up the mantle of his Double–0 codename, and that would be that. James Bond's name would be erased from the ranks of MI6, like he never existed.
Just like Skyfall, he would become a fleeting memory, forgotten when something brighter was build on top of all the misery. As much as he tried not to think about it (no time, no time), James knew he was made of destruction and unshed tears and burning anger that never found the right outlet, for not even being an MI6 agent could cool his heart.
Madeleine, brilliant as she was beautiful, looked at him with piercing, knowing eyes and he wondered what the daughter of a man like Mr. White and the lover of a man like James Bond, 007, could see. Could she sense that they were doomed from the start? That a man like him was too used to a life of action to be able to sit back as she went about putting her bright mind to work to help others?
She would come home one night and find him either with a bullet in his head or just gone.
"This is a lovely place" – she mumbled against his lips after they made love and laid in a heap in front of the fireplace.
"I suppose" – he replied, not particularly enthusiastic about their current location, a small house in the French countryside. The local vineyards were a plus for him, but it still made his skin crawl to be in such a defenseless place, so full of innocents. His brand of living didn't suit civilians.
"You are having deep thoughts" – she mused with a small huff.
"Forgive me, darling"
"Do you really not like this house? We can certainly look elsewhere"
"No, it's fine, really"
"Hm"
Just like that, James knew that his days of leisure with Madeleine Swann were dying out. A intelligent, elegant, fierce woman such as her should not settle for someone like him, an aged agent with little else but blood and booze in his hands. As much as she told him she had no particular desire to have a child, he could easily see the kind of love she would be able to bestow upon however many lucky children she had, and he knew he was neither the marrying kind nor the fatherly type.
A week later he left Madeleine after a bout of unforgettable sex, and she didn't look that broken up about it. She was a smart one, but then again, James had always been attracted to pretty faces holding sharp minds behind them. He would miss her ever so much, and look out for her in the future (who knew if anyone might like to harm Mr. White's daughter even after the fall of SPECTRE), marvel at the marvelous life she was bound to build.
The trek back to London and MI6 was a short one, and when he stood in front of Moneypenny, he wondered if he should have been offended by the surprise in her eyes or amused. M was likewise startled by his sudden return from his vacation as it were, but the man got on his feet quickly enough and shook his hand firmly.
"Welcome back, Bond"
"Good to be back, sir"
"Hm. And to think I was just about to hand the 007 title to some other agent"
"Any good?" – M's lips twitched as Bond smirked.
"You arrogant bastard. Sit. I believe I have some mission you could get into without much trouble, get your feet wet before you dive back into the fray"
"I believe I have rested enough, sir" – Mallory sighed long and hard and pushed a file in Bond's direction – "Going old school, sir?"
"Enough cheek, 007. Report to Q for an evaluation. Hopefully you have maintained some degree of conditioning while you were off... Wherever you were"
"It's good to get out of the office sometimes, sir, you should try it"
"When the assholes of the world give me the time, I shall" – Bond nodded once and got up to leave – "007?"
"Sir?"
"We will take care to make sure Ms. Swann is well in her new establishment" – the agent didn't change expressions.
"I'm afraid I do not know who that person is, sir, although she sounds lovely"
"She is. Off you go"
Q was the only one who did not show any surprise at his return, simply pointing at a random door and raising bossy eyebrows at Bond until the blond decided it would probably be best for his well being to follow Q's orders (for the moment, anyway).
"I see you once again failed to return my equipment in prime condition, 007" – the younger man mumbled at him after his tests were done with.
"Forgive me, Q, I must have had other things to consider at the time"
"I'm sure" – was the dry response he got – "See that you try to return this as is, agent" – he demanded, handing Bond his preferred weapon and a cell phone.
"Should I refrain from knocking the bad guys out with these, then?"
"I am much too busy to entertain your brand of humor at the moment, 007, so if you would" – he turned around to fiddle with his computer, and Bond left with a snort.
It was good to be back.
His life with Madeleine would've been boring, beautiful, peaceful, but he knew he was meant for Moneypenny's sharpness, M's missions and Q's quips. It would never be the kind of life he would've imagined for himself when he was a child, but he supposed such was the life of an adult.
And don't let Q and Moneypenny trick you into thinking James Bond, 007, was anything but an adult, thank you.