Chapter 05

***Olivia Mansfield***

Olivia stayed frozen in time for few minutes. Her brain tried to excuse his reaction, but it was not good enough. She knew Bond, well she thought she knew him, but all this pent up anger from him was trying her nerves. He was always quick to judge and see the worst in people. He worked best under pressure and she learned to press him just enough for him to be mad with her and have something to prove to the both of them. Not that she needed him to demonstrate his abilities. He was her best agent without a doubt. She was fond of him even before the events at Skyfall.

However, this level of fury was unsettling. Something happened in that church. Apart from the obvious - her dying and paramedics stabilizing her. The administration informed everyone in MI6 that she had died. It was a strategic move that she would have approved of in her position. Mallory was keeping her safe this way. They couldn't make it public knowledge that she lived. No one could know about the former head of MI6 being incapable in any sort of way nor what brought her to this. It would be like waiting for vultures to settle on a corpse. She would be a sitting duck for anyone to attack or interrogate. She had made many enemies over her years of service.

James did a very good job with taking her to this remote location. He put some thought into his plan. No one would know about her whereabouts. She was alone with her most trusted agent. Even if by some miracle danger did follow them, she didn't have any doubts about him taking care of everything. He had already saved her once.

Maybe the problem with all of this was that the agency had lied to him. Mallory and his stupid idea of Bond seducing her. Really? What the hell was Mallory thinking? That someone like Bond would take her to bed In her current state? As the head of MI6, she commanded Bond to do a lot of things she wasn't proud of, just for the safety of their nation. However, this really was a new low for Mallory. Bond would never agreed to something like that.

She tried to move again and adjust the towels as she tried to sit up and find the clothing he told her he bought. This snail pace was killing her. Every single muscle in her body protested against movement. Every single bone screamed with her age. Seventy really wasn't the best time in someone's life. She should have been dead and if she were she wouldn't have to work with the most petulant of her agents.

M found the bag and gingerly pulled out some of the clothing. There was a soft dark blue blouse with a matching blue floral skirt and a white jumper. She left the jumper for now. She was also horrified to find that he had purchased knickers for her. M looked at the bottom of the bag and couldn't help but shake her head. There was a bra and it appeared to be her size. Her wound would not allow her the mobility to try the item on, so she dropped it back into the bag. There was no way she was going to ask him to help her with it.

M pulled the knickers on, followed by the matching blue floral three quarter length skirt with a gentle elastic waist made from a nice soft knit. She gingerly put the blouse on and buttoned it up slowly. She slipped on the flat elasticized blue shoes to see if they would fit. They were not dressy, more like the casual trainers that a much younger woman would wear. M supposed she shouldn't be at all surprised by the fact that James Bond seemed to know her size.

Winded and out of breath M sat on the bed to wait for Bond's return. When he decided to honour her with a visit again, she was thankfully clothed and it improved her mood tremendously.

"Thank you for the clothes, 007."

He didn't have to know how much it hurt to dress herself. "It was nothing, ma'am."

M hated Bond's murmured answers. This was not normal for him. What the hell happened to suddenly change his behavior so much. What could she do or say?

"Are we safe?"

"For the time being, yes." He put a gun on the bedside table. In a minute thanks to some instant soup and hot water from the kettle, he produced her dinner. "Bon appétit."

Soup. She eyed the content distastefully. She would kill for a good cup of tea and something solid, anything would be better than soup.

"You've been on a liquid diet for four days. You can't eat anything else, sorry."

"Do you see me complaining, Bond?" She couldn't let go of her imperial scowl and her harsh tone. It wasn't necessary in their situation, but she couldn't be seen as weak. Not by him. Not by her fellow MI6 operatives. She wanted her position back, however unlikely. This wasn't her retirement plan or so she thought.

"No, ma'am. Just wanted to apologize in advance for the food."

"You don't have to apologize to me, James," she said with a sad sigh. God. The worst idea ever. Her lungs felt like combusting. Damn that snake Tiago! If he had only lived, then she would have had the chance to torture him just for fun. She knew Bond grabbed a lot of supplies, but if only he had managed to take painkillers with them. He had done more than anyone else to save her. She started to eat very slowly.

"You alright?"

"I'll live." She just managed to breathe again without killing herself in process.

"I should give you some painkillers."

"I'm alright, Bond."

The regret was on his face. When the hell did his face start to become so easy to read? This change was puzzling even to her.

"Clearly."

"Stop acting like a drama queen. I will live. What's your plan? How long till we get there?"

She really should be nicer to him for all he had done for her.

"We're going back to Skyfall. No one would suspect us going there again. Certainly not the

government. I called Mallory, and told him I will contact him when we reach our final destination."

"What about me?"

"You will be safe. Far away from any bullets."

"I can help." She could almost picture his disobedience. It didn't take him long to sneer at her the same way he always did. However, Bond was silent now. He didn't correct her, didn't tell her she can't help because of her condition. It was unnerving. Something was wrong with him.

The soup wasn't that good, so she put the remains on her bedside table. "I can help. You will need me as bait. They had to have watched me, seen me on camera and will try something."

"Out of question."

"Bond..."

"Out of question, ma'am."

"Would you stop with this 'ma'am' business! You know very well..."

"The most important thing for you to do is to stay out of harm's way. I will not let them come near you. You will recover gradually at Skyfall and then we will go back to MI6. Until that moment, I'm in charge of your body...ma'am."

He added 'ma'am' just to spite her. Her anger was good, it finally felt like home when she was furious with him.

"I'm still your boss. When I say I will be a part of this, rest assured, I will, 007."

"I will NOT let you. You died in my arms less than a week ago. You deserve to have time to get back on your feet. For god's sake, give yourself time to heal, woman."

"In our line of work, you know very well, there is no time. I can rest when the situation is solved. You don't have to keep an eye on me, Bond. Stop addressing me like I'm some bloody woman who doesn't know anything about you. I will do whatever I want, not what you tell me to!"

Olivia watched him as he took a long breath. The tension seemed to travel right up his spine and was palpable. They had to resolve this situation soon. The anger was good to release the buildup of tension, but too much arguing was hurting her physically. She couldn't spend long fighting with him in this condition. Her lungs hurt and her head had started to pound. He was still turned away from her, showing her his his back.

"It's time to sleep."

Sleep? Well, maybe he was right. They were both tired. Emotions were too close to the surface between them, they always were. "Yes." She wanted to get up and properly cover herself with blanket, but it really wasn't an option with her limited mobility. She just maneuvered under the covers as she laid back on the bed.

"You need to take antibiotics, just to be on a safe side," James pulled out a box with pills and handed her two, placing the remainder on the nightstand.

"We only have a few painkillers I didn't think to check as we rushed out the door, sorry."

"It's all right. I'm not a wilting flower. I can manage some pain. Just give me one and I will try to wean off them."

James failed to respond to her comment. Usually he would have had a quip or barb at her expense.

What was he playing at? James Bond was nothing if not confrontational when they spoke under normal circumstances. However, these were not normal circumstances.

M stared at the dark ceiling of the hotel. The pain was settling into a dull throb as she focused on her breathing. She was sharing a hotel room with James Bond of all people and on the run yet again. It was going to be difficult to get any sleep.