***Olivia Mansfield***

Olivia slept surprisingly well, despite their previous conversation once she allowed her brain to shut down for some much needed rest. However, Bond was the first thing on her mind the moment she woke up. Bond was on the floor still fast asleep. He looked peaceful, much younger and relaxed.

She had been so hard on him. Truth be told, she had never seen him look or act like this before. Not even after Vesper. After her death he worked like a single minded killing machine as she needed him to.

Perhaps that was the issue, James Bond morphed in everything she needed, but she didn't understand or recognise the reason why. He had worked doubly hard for her, not from some sudden understanding or inspiration of service for one's country but for her...specifically. Tiago, he did the same and she had reason to worry. There was a comparison to be made between the two men separated by geography and circumstance, yet there was also correlations between the two.

James had always had an angry look. Always fixing his features into a scowl, or just a tough expression with lips pressed together when challenged. Bond tried to never to let anything readable appear on his face, except for a smirk or challenge when he dealt with M.

It was better like this. Seeing him unguarded for one and almost vulnerable while sleeping. She shouldn't stare at him like this. It was wrong to study his features while he was unguarded, but she know he did the same to her in that hospital room and in the car.

M's shocked by what James said to her yesterday, or at least implied with his gestures, glances and somewhat restricted conversations about protecting her for the rest of his life.

What was she suppose to say to him today? After the adventure from last night, hell they're still on the run. James awoke as if he knew he was being watched or that she was awake. Turning to look at the clock on the wall, she noticed it was going on 20:00 hours. She had slept the majority of the day thanks to their morning escape.

"James. We should discuss what you implied and we talked about earlier."

"It's nothing we have to discuss further. I will look around and then buy you something to eat. We're leaving as soon as possible. You can shower, if you like. I will change the dressing, once I'm back."

"Another shower sounds good. Do you think you could get me..."

"What would you like to eat, M?"

"I'm an English woman, Bond and I would kill for a tea right now."

"Ma'am." He said with a knowing grin.

M waited for him to visit the bath for a quick shower and then leave. Finally alone, she started to move slowly and painfully. She took one more of the painkillers. She would be grateful for almost anything that would take the edge off.

Two steps from bed and she was again drenched in cold sweat. Her body wasn't young anymore and it took so much longer for her to recover. She hated every second of this weakness, but there was nothing she could do.

A crash sounded behind her. Instinct made her fall to the floor beside the bed the moment a bullet shattered the window.

How did they find them? Something went obviously wrong. Where the hell is Bond! She is helpless on the floor, a wounded hunted old woman. She managed to grasp the gun from her nightstand. Ten bullets with the one in the chamber. If they enter the room she has to remember to count and save the last one for her. Her knowledge of MI6 and British government system was to powerful to allow into the hands of kidnappers or terrorists.

Where the hell was Bond?

She aimed the gun upwards and towards the door, when someone slammed into it and then it opened suddenly.

Bond. Thank god!

M was tired and in a hell a lot of pain. Her grip slackened and she pressed her hand to her forehead in relief.

"Are you hurt?" James was kneeling by her in a second, both hands on her cheeks.

"Olivia?"

Shaking her head must be enough. She ignored his impertinence with her first name.

"We have to go!"

She wasn't physically strong enough. The pain was excruciating. Anything would be better than this.

"Arms around my neck!"

It was not a request, but an order. M was used to orders from the Prime Minister and some others in Her Majesty's government. She didn't even question Bond. He lifted her off the floor and rested her on the bed as he gathered their things quickly.

M managed to move to sitting on the bed. "Don't move too much, ma'am."

Bond took the cardigan jumper he purchased for her out of the bag and wrapped it around her as she helped him. Bond took the gun from her and put it in the back of his trousers.

He grabbed two bags slinging the straps over his neck and then lifted her off the bed.

"The shooter's dead. I don't think he had any back up." He carried her to the car and laid her back in her reclined seat. James had realized that the fall to the floor must have stunned and hurt her already battered body.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm fine," she whispered. She couldn't even raise her voice, she just felt so broken, she would probably start to cry any moment.

"M?"

Bond's fingers covered her hand. She didn't even realize that she had them twisted in her jumper.

She left her eyes closed. "I'm fine." Her voice sounded traitorously weak and indicative of the way she felt.

"Are you bleeding? Can you...check yourself?"

"Pulled my stitches. I'm fine," she tried to convince him the last time.

"Do you need a doctor?"

The stress in his voice was killing her. "I'm bloody fine, Bond!" She looked at him with a flash of anger in her eyes. "I'm pretty sure you can look at my stitches and fix me up the moment we're somewhere secure. You've done it to yourself a hundred times before. There's no need to find a bloody doctor for me... just mind the road and don't crash."

"I had to ask. For a moment it looked like you're giving up."

Even if her entire existence was pain, her body screaming for her just to stop. M could never lie down and drown herself in misery. No. She would survive. She was nothing if not a stubborn survivor.

"M?"

"Can we have a discussion about my weaknesses later?" She closed her eyes in defeat. She was too old for this adventure. She had to focus on something else. "How did they find us?"

"I don't know. I thought of everything, or so I thought."

Of course it wasn't his fault. "Stop at the nearest motel."

"M?"

She knew they didn't have time for this. "It's me. They had to have put a tracker in me."

She knew it must be inside her it was the only logical explanation. He was staring at her and it felt like little prickles on her skin. "Unless it's you and if I remember correctly, I tried to put one in you a long time ago. It never seemed to stick so unless you've been implanted in the last week it's me."

"No. There is nothing in me."

"They operated on me. It makes sense. You will have to look inside. Lucky for you my stitches have ripped open again from all this movement. Our lucky day, wouldn't you say?"

She finally gathered enough strength to look at him. Maybe he didn't share her confidence, because he remained silent and looked upset. She decided to close her eyes again to try and get some sleep to numb out the pain.

Olivia woke up the second something touched her right cheek. Her eyes took a moment to focus. Of course it was Bond. He was standing over her to look at her and his fingers traced a pattern on her skin. His eyes made her somewhat uncomfortable.

"Are you awake now?"

Maybe she was still dreaming. "Yes."

"I already paid for our room. I will carry you inside."

"Alright." Why would she protest? Her head immediately settled on his shoulder, she couldn't be bothered to look around. She just wanted to sleep for a few weeks and wake up healed. She was vaguely aware of him walking to a door and opening it. He placed her on the nearest bed and disappeared as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

***James Bond***

James couldn't believe her stitches ripped open...damn it! After all she already had to deal with. He carried her as gently as possible into their room. He watched her drift off into sleep for a moment before heading back to get their bags and the medical supplies.

James carefully took everything he needed out of the bag, before boiling some water in the electric kettle to sterilize his knife. It wasn't surgical, but he had used it on himself enough to know it would do the trick. Putting everything he would need on a towel, he placed it on the bed beside M.

They were in a rush that he hadn't even had time to examine the wallet he taken from the shooter he had left dead over an embankment near the hotel. He had tossed the shooter's gun in the boot so that no one from the general public came across it. He called and spoke to Q about the body and where to find it so MI6 could dispose of it.

Turning his attention back to M he gently opened her jumper and unbuttoned her blouse. Trying to ignore her nakedness, he quickly placed the other towel he had grabbed over her as he gently pulled off the bloodied bandage away from her wound.

It had not yet soaked through enough to destroy her new clothing, but it woke her up. He wished that she could have slept through what happened next. James started to cut through her old stitches with the scissors and paused.

"M... M, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf, Bond." M said irritated as she gritted her teeth against the discomfort.

"I talked with Q. He thinks the same that you must have a tracker. It was a risk, but I've always trusted the young man and you must have as well since it was you who hired him. From now on, he will be our ears and eyes in the agency."

"Hmmm... yes... he is a good lad."

"I have to remove the tracker and put new stitches on you. Try to relax and go somewhere else in your mind. Tell me if you need me to stop, but the faster I do this the better it will be. Perhaps you should take the last of the painkillers and some more antibiotics before I cut you open."

"I am aware. Give me the pills and then make it fast, Bond."

"I don't have any anesthesia, unfortunately and not even a bottle of whiskey and a wooden spoon for you to bit down on. Take these pills." Bond propped her head up on two pillows and brought a glass of water to her lips.

"How very wild west of you, 007. I guess we are all spoiled by modern medicine. Don't worry about me- I've given birth twice and this cannot possibly be worse than that."

"I don't like to be the one causing you extra pain, ma'am."

She looked at him calmly. "I am aware it's not your fault. I'm not senile, yet Bond. Do what you have to do. I will be alright."