Chapter 12

**Olivia Mansfield**

They didn't hear from Bond. He hadn't called again, didn't leave any messages.

After a month of healing Olivia terminated her sick leave and by official channels, took back her position as a head of MI6. She spent the last two days catching up with news. She'd finally started to feel like herself again. Weeks of personal chaos were finished, now she was left with naught but work chaos. Her life had purpose again and she viscously let people feel her anger, specially those who contributed to the negative situation she'd just survived.

To her surprise, the powers that be had not officially declared her dead, there wasn't a death certificate. The Prime Minister allowed her to reclaim the status as of head of MI6.

Occasionally she even forgot about Michael. His near to silent footsteps, constantly behind her. Well, almost. What she couldn't forget was Bond. What he had done for her and the comfort she felt with him close to her.

Of course; there were signs of Bond's survival. There had been a higher body count in morgues around London as of late. The bodies of those involved with her abduction and confinement in that facility, are not escaping 007's wrath. The news was ripe with the talk of a professional serial killer from the amount of political sycophants and lawyers dead since Skyfall.

Another sign was the sudden arrival of expensive Scotch in her office at work and as of right now in her bedroom too. Michael had followed her upstairs to check the rooms for any invasion.

Michael noticed the bottle on her night stand. "Ma'am?"

"Bond's trying to get back on my good side, the one in my office was from him as well." She assured him calmly.

"Bond gets on your good side by breaking into your home and office?"

Olivia watched his jaw fall open. To tell the truth most people would probably think this strange. That she knew how Bond's mind worked.

Boss and employee should not be so close. However, circumstances between the two of them were complicated to say the least.

"This won't be the end of it, Michael. If you have to shoot him, aim for a flesh wound and not a vital organ. I need him to finish the mission first." M said as she shared a joke with her now devoted bodyguard. The poor lad was too scared to leave her sight after being threatened by Bond.

"As you wish, ma'am." Michael relayed with a slight smile as he said goodnight and left her alone. She hoped that he would stop being the permanent fixture in her spare room soon.

Once M had finished with her bath and changed the dressing on her wound, she carefully situated herself in bed. After her husband's death, what seemed like a lifetime ago, she hated the silence in her flat. Now it was welcoming. After all the hours she was spending in her office with agents always watching her every move, it felt calming.

She was suddenly aware of a soft knocking on her bedroom door. Michael wouldn't have the nerve to do that, unless there was an emergency. In this case the emergency was likely Bond.

"Come in, Bond."

"Ma'am?"

Olivia saw his gaze fall to her palm that was laying on her chest protectively over the wound. "What did Michael say?" She hoped he informed the other agent. Today she really wasn't in the mood to have her home invaded by the MI6 operatives just for Bond to proved the others how skillful he was at breaking and entering.

"I called him first," Bond assured her.

"Status?" She didn't want to think about Michael's reaction. Whatever he thought could wait for tomorrow.

"Six dead, Q's checking our leads at the moment and Tanner is fine. Currently at the hotel room. If we're right, we're going to have a busy night."

"Who is the primary suspect?"

"At the moment, the Prime Minister."

Well, she never saw eye to eye with him. Not that much surprising. But Bond could still be wrong. "Do we have a motive?"

"No."

"So it's a wild guess?" God, she hated this slow pace of information. Did she have to spell every question out loud? Couldn't he talk in longer sentences and update her on the progress? Of course not. He wanted her to ask, to demand the answers, because he held all the information.

"A bit... How do you feel?"

"Well enough to tell you to go to hell!" He was infuriating her again. He had nothing solid on the mission.

"Ma'am..."

"Not another step closer, Bond!" she ordered him sharply. "Do you have anything to report?"

"No."

God, she hated this power play. Attempting to intimidate her in her own bedroom. This is the way Bond managed his missions...sneak up on the unsuspecting woman in her home and then… "So I think you should be on your way to Tanner."

"M..."

Olivia pressed on her chest and with all of the strength pushed the covers from her legs and was on her feet in a next second, thanks to the adrenaline.

Before she could remind herself Michael slept just across the hall, she was yelling at him.

"You have some bloody nerve, Bond! Breaking into my flat again! You're officially on a mission and you're here! You have nothing to report to me, but you're breaking into my home in the middle of the night? You have the cheek to come to my bedroom! And you have the nerve to inform my protective detail about this stunt? Do you know what it means if this gets out?"

If this information escaped, it would be a disaster and she is still painfully recovering from the last disaster.

"Get the hell out of my sight!"

Olivia hoped he would try to explain himself, but not now, because her lungs were hurting. Not badly, but enough to leave her breathless and with limited ability to continue this argument with him. He was as brash and bloody insolent as normal. What the hell was he thinking? Why the hell isn't he already gone?

"I just wanted to ask how you're feeling," Bond answered quietly.

He didn't have an excuse to be in her presence, so he'd created one for himself. For God's sake, she's too bloody old for this drama!

Her shoulders sagged. "I'm feeling better," M whispered tiredly and now upset for yelling at him for his concern. "Now, go away." She needed him gone. This was beyond inappropriate behaviour and she's being so closely watched, it will embarrass her professionally.

Why is it Bond cannot get this through his thick head? Why is he being so damn stubborn with this intrusive behaviour of his?

It's like a bloody crush…gone to some strange extreme. Why now? Was it his fear of death?

Olivia died and this triggered everything. She had much to think about. She needed time to heal and consider what these problems with James Bond really meant.

Bond had difficulty meeting her gaze. "Sleep well, ma'am."