AN hope u like tis one!plz review!xoxox

Clare held her breath as the secretary passed the deserted warehouse. A small thump indicated clare would have to step in. She dashed out discreetly and raised her eyebrows at bond. The man would have a big bruise tomorrow. GNB had just hired a new desk secretary and this was the part Bond would play. They sedated the man and took his passes. Clare had already made her own fake I'd and Bond's. Both had the GNB blazers on. Mr Seater's assistant had taken a sudden 'illness' and the temporary replacement was clare. Q branch had interfered with the call to a employment agency and now clare, or Samantha Lee was working for them. She had dyed her hair red and curled it so she looked completely different, not to mention all the white make-up and contacts. All her distinctive features were changed yet still Bond felt that pull to be near her, which most men seemed to feel as well. Q had taken a very big liking to her, and even the heartless Mallory had fallen for her sweetness and her charm. The only flaw in the plan was Jason, the tour guide with the hots for Clare, or Maria, as he knew her. She would have to keep her distance, and to be honest, that made Bond very happy.

"You couldn't have just restrained him and let me sedate him? The bruise will raise questions, and once they know we're onto them we're screwed." She handed him a gun, just like he had used in Malou, when he had basically fed a sex trade bouncer to a giant lizard.

" Jason's been calling me all day. I can't...I just can't see him again? I don't want to do that to Tony. He's here you know. New Jersey. His bands got a gig here tonight, its all sold out"

Clare looks so broken for someone so young Bond does something so out of character it scares even him. He reaches out to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder as they walk. She doesn't even notice how hard this is to do for him. 007 didn't really look like himself either, Clare had done an amazing job. He had shaved well and Clare had put a lot of foundation on and jsome other cosmetics he could not name. He looked around twenty years younger and happier. His icy blue eyes had not been tampered with though, had felt very strongly they should be left un tampered with.

"Here we are. Now remember your name Bond. Your Charles Aiton. Not James. Remember that, and please do not call me clare. I am now Samantha Lee. Weirdest name ever but we're American. Have you been working on your drawl?"Clare asks Bond, her voice edging on condescending.

"Yes ma'am I have"Bond says in the worst ever American accent ever.

"Just try not to speak okay?"

The approached the front desk of the deserted lobby and checked in. Bond sat in his seat and put on a headset. He refitted the mouth piece so it would come round from his left ear rather than his right, as that was where his earpiece was. He didn't want to spill their plan to an unsuspecting caller or talk about GNB studies in physics to M.

Clare stood in the lift and pressed in the bit 'P' at the top of the set of buttons. The lift reaches then 7th floor before it stops and Mr Seater himself gets on.

"Ah! You must be Miss Samantha Lee!

My new assistant! Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes eh?eh? Hahaha!"

Seater laughs heartily at his own terribly joke and holds out his hand.

"I'm Alfie Seater, head of GNB lab testing and experimental physics. So, my pretty little newbie! First five minutes on the job what'd ya think eh? Marvellous isn't it?" They shake hands and Seater begins yapping on about all his achievements so Clare decides to go in for the kill.

"My friends working in the New York lab, she's one of the head scientists there, head of radiation and consumer advice, she has always wanted to meet you! Apparently their working on a huge project at the moment, but my friend couldn't give me details, she said it was classified. Surely a nice, open, company like this has no skeletons in the closet?"

Still smiling widely, Seater steps closer to her, trapping her in the corner of the lift.

"Well, Miss Lee, you are right, GNB have no secrets. I don't think anyone has ever told you this but you would be quite the journalist! You have confidence, sources, and pretty looks to manipulate your case into doing as you please"

The last part was less of a mild conversation, more of a seductive growl as he looked down on her, breathing his stale, cigar filled breath in her face. As the lift doors opened he backed away from her and left the small space. She dashed out after him and followed him to his office, where, just outside, she saw her desk. Sitting down she had a peek in all the drawers and through the files on the computer. Sticking in her memory pen, she downloaded everything from the desktop to the hard drive, history, documents, saved sites. She deleted the memory of the memory pen ever being in the computer and was looking through her files when an Email popped up.

"There is a package for you in the mailroom. Please come collect. Littleye"

She read and re-read the last part 'littleye' but could not think of any code it resembled. But the band, Tony's band, and only one person she knew knew about them was-

"Bond" she muttered to herself. She got up and asked a man at an other desk what floor the mail room was in her sweetest American accent and he. Gave her exact directions to the little station was situated and then she briskly hurried off, not wanting to be missed by Seater. She went to the basement and turned left like she was instructed to and there, was bond, looking young fresh and heart achingly beautiful. She had been warned, especially by Eve, that she had in no way to get involved with Bond, not even casual flirting. She had to throw out her fishing wire, which she had done and now all he had to do was grab on and she would have him, and her and Mallory's plan could begin.

"Yes? Where's my package Mister Aiton?" Clare drawled, keeping up her disguise. Bond ignored it and began talking in that jumped up aristocratic English accent of his that drove her insane.

"Have you got anything on Seater yet? I've tried to get onto quite a few files but I can't arise suspicion to myself. Q is on the line waiting but be quick, I think they might be able to catch transmitting signals from our earpieces, that's why I did just tell you through the transmitter, that and I wanted to see, well I just want you to be careful up there! You never know what that man is capable of! Well you best get back up there, but if you need me desperately, just call"

Bond left Clare and hurried back to the lingering shadows,Where he seemed to thrive. Clare also backtracked to the lift and zoomed back up to the top floor. She spent the next half hour filing a lot of useless files and playing 'Taxi Gone Wild' on the computer. She beat her high score over five times, then checked the Email account they had made up for 'Samantha'. There was one Email waiting for her...from Seater.

It read;

'Hello Samantha.

I have a meeting later, and I have some documents you need to file. They are downstairs. Why not accompany me down in the lift to the Docx room?'

She quickly typed back and went back to the most well-known place in the building for her, the lift.

"Hello Samantha, on our way to get those files are we?"

"Yes Mr Seater, I am"

Clare put an emphasis on the 'I' and clenched her fists when the lift did arrive. Empty. She felt very venerable in that small space with Seater, and felt the comfort of the hilt of her gun in her suit jacket strap. As they stepped into the lift, Seater stood very close to her, and managed to situate himself behind her, in a very seductive position.

"Mr Seater, are you sure that's highly professional?" Clare said gulping. He just chuckled and began to run a hand up her thigh, then past her butt to her waist, and just before he was about to touch the hilt of her gun, she whipped it out and had it trained on Seater's head.

Clare was about to get some answers when the lift doors opened revealing the notorious two Russian henchmen. They both had they're Army style machine guns pointed at Clare.

then...

They died.

"Hello Mr Seater, I'm your new secretary, the names Bond, James Bond"

Show off, thought Clare as she backed away from Seater, her gun still pointed on his head, but desperate to have as much space as she could between him and her.

Where the lift door was situated, the whole front entrance to the GNB building could see her and Bond and they're guns, that's when the panic began. Screams rang out as people tried to flee through the twirling doors, but got stuck as so many people were surging through the one exit. More and more Russian henchmen were marching towards them and Bond had already began taking action on them. He had shot to kill three of them already and had a direct hit all three times. Clare, was different. She did not have a licence to kill, but was supposed to be earning that now. Two kills for two zeros. Double-oh-four would be her title if she succeeded, but she wanted those deaths to matter, be for the good of people, not just random Russian terrorist workers. A spray of bullets from her Walther PPK/S XD sent five Russian flying, most hit in limbs of not so vital organs. Not deaths, just early retirement for them! Her and Bond sprinted towards the door, the big metal staircase to the main desk full of scared crazy GNB workers. Clare had a super sky moment and jumped up then slid down the metal rail. Bond had to top that so he simply forgot about the stairs and hopped the rail. It wasn't that far, her exit had been awesomer. Though, of course, it wasn't a contest. They were greeted at the door by a huge man, six or seven feet tall, will ugly scars, tattoos and bulging muscles. He practically growled at them and Clare shot him square in the chest. A Stone cold killing. They ran out the doors and round through the streets, other Russian men in hot pursuit. Clare was shocked and horrified by her actions but had to pull through and get her and Bond out of this alive. She grabbed his hand and ducked into a alleyway, through into an abandoned warehouse and out the other end through a very gang like apartment block and then they took a sharp right, back onto the main street. The men that had been chasing them had vanished, probably lost in a warehouse or something. They got a cab back to the hotel and headed up to they're newly tidied room. As she entered, the grief suddenly hit her of what she had caused. A poor suffering family were grieving because of her choice of shot and accuracy, and she of all people knew the depths of loss. She wanted to scream at Bond, who was fixing himself a scotch or whisky or something. Clare did not associate herself with alcohol, especially on the job. She looked in the mirror and saw a messy haired redhead with sad green eyes and blood on her shirt. Then she realised who the blood belonged to. Sprinting to her room she ripped of her clothes and threw them to the floor not knowing where she would go but knowing it had to be somewhere loud and full so she couldn't hear her own thoughts. She removed the contacts from her eyes and brushed out her hair so it was slightly straighter, but still red. She pulled on the dress she had brought with her and put purple flats on her feet. She pulled on her leather jacket and a grey suede cap to hide her features. She then grabbed some cash and left the room without stopping to answer Bonds questions. She just had to breathe