Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters featured. Although I have shared their adventures

Title: The Guy Who Loved Me

Author: Just G

Rating: K+

A/N: A continuation from You Only Love Twice. Hopefully it's not turned out too bad.

He liked to gamble. It suited the cold, calculating side of his psyche. He was a skilled player, who made his own luck. But his luck had been out with her. That rarely happened. When he saw something he wanted, he usually got it. He wasn't used to losing. At anything. He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feelings full stop. Feelings got in the way, made things complicated, made a man lose his edge. In his line of work feelings were a luxury. They could easily get you dead. He was cold, sometimes heartless but no one could deny he was good at what he did. He was one of the best.


He lay in his bed thinking of her. It was no coincidence that they met again at the casino, or was it. He knew she was involved. Not for the first time had their paths crossed. Had she been at the casino by chance or was there another reason. He couldn't be sure. She would have no way of knowing. Or would she. His mind could become clouded when a beautiful woman was involved. They were his achilles heel. He wondered if his enemies knew this. They surely would His mind drifted back to their conversation.

"Bond. James Bond." He held out his lighter to light her cigarette. All the time he was aware that she was sizing him up. But in what way. He did not let his gaze falter. There was something suggestive in her manner. It was reeling him in.

"You play?" Bond asked, motioning to an empty seat.

"Only when the odds are in my favour. I think I'll watch for now Mr Bond." The dealer had dealt the cards. He looked at his hand, the cards were poor. He tried to concentrate on the game but could feel her presence and smell the subtlest hint of her perfume. The other players were deep in concentration. He had placed a small amount of chips down as his wager, fearful of risking anymore with the cards he held. He no longer felt her presence. Casually he glanced over his shoulder and noticed her walking off towards the bar. His male pride was wounded. No matter what he did, he could not get his mind in the game nor chase her from it. He waited patiently for the hand to finish. When it had he took the first opportunity toleave the game, mindful that she may in fact be leaving or have already left the casino.

He addressed the table. "I'm afraid I must bow out gentlemen", he handed the croupier a fifty franc chip as way of apology. "Apologies again", he nodded at his fellow players. His leaving received a mixed response, only one said goodbye, the others merely shrugged. He made a mental note of their faces, hoping the chance would present itself to relieve them of their money at a future time. As he walked away from the table his antagonism towards the men lessened but his anger towards himself grew. Somehow, he had let her get inside his head. It had taken no effort at all. Was she even aware of it or was his mind playing tricks on him. He felt bewitched. He did not like it one bit.


On approaching the bar he noticed her sat alone, drink in hand. Several men stood close by but he could recognise indecision in their faces. Not one made a move towards her in spite of their desire to do so. Did her beauty intimidate them or was it something else.

"I'm guessing cards are not your strong point Mr Bond?" She had been watching his arrival in the mirror above the bar.

"Sometimes I like to play for fun, sometimes I like to be serious. I was merely killing time", He noticed her lips curl up ever so slightly. He could not decipher the true meaning. "Did the excitement get too much for you?"

"I like to watch sport Mr Bond, not a group of fat old men sat around a table playing cards. Why go to a casino when I could go to a retirement home to see such things."

"So why are you here then?" He was willing to play games if she wanted. But if she was hiding something, sooner or later she would let it slip. They always did.

"Boredom mainly. And they serve drinks." She held up her near empty glass.

"May I?" Bond motioned at a seat close to her. She nodded her assent. He sat down and called the barman, gesturing to the mystery woman's drink and requesting two more.

"You do not strike me as a gin and tonic man Mr Bond."

"I appreciate a fine gin and tonic like I appreciate any fine thing in life Miss - he had never noticed a ring -. He let the words hang in the air and his gaze linger longer than usual. She was not put out by this but took it in her stride.

"Scherbatsky. And yes I'm am a Miss. Very perceptive Mr Bond. "Indeed I have no husband," she held up her ringless left hand. "But I do have a jealous boyfriend." He figured her name was eastern european, most likely Polish or Slavic. It may be something but then again it could be nothing. He would contact London later and have them run a records check. He smiled at her words. A jealous boyfriend or husband was nothing new. Nor was it something to stop him. He viewed women as a perk of his job.

"I'm sure he would be. And does this jealous boyfriend call you by a first name."

"Robin." She smiled softly. "He calls me Robin, that is when he has the time." She didn't look bothered, largely indifferent to the fact. Maybe she was just another beautiful face married to some wealthy businessman. But he sensed, was convinced differently. He studied her again. Her relaxed state only served to highlight her true beauty. He wanted to close his eyes and lock the image away in his mind forever. Her daywear dress undoubtedly came from one of the prestigious fashion houses of Milan or Paris, most likely Chanel he thought. He expected a woman to be well dressed but his interest in female fashion extended no further than whether the garments were on or off. He noted that the small unassuming items of jewellery she wore were in fact each worth more than he could make in a year. The way she carried herself, the clothes and jewellery she wore meant she either came from a moneyed family or her boyfriend, if he existed, was undeniably a wealthy man.

"So he's a busy man?" He wanted to probe further.

"He has many interests. Big and small but I don't bother myself with them." He sensed she was hiding something. Most people would have been convinced but he was too well versed in deception.

"Too busy to take you to dinner perhaps?" She merely scoffed at his question, the implication being all too clear. His expression remained unchanged. "What does he do? If you don't mind me asking."

"No only are you perceptive but persistent too Mr Bond. Is there no end to your charms?" The intention may have been sarcasm but he wasn't so sure. "Property." Her answer came back short and abrupt. She was either becoming bored of the conversation or wanted to change the subject. "Enough about him. What about you."

"Me. I work for a London import/export business. Pretty boring really. Though it can be a real killer. But still, it has its moments."

"Funny, I would never have pictured you for that line of work. You don't look the type."

"Just how do you picture me Robin?" He leant in closer whilst talking, a playful glint in his eye. She sat quietly, almost smiling. He was sure she was about to say something when they were interrupted.

"Miss Scherbatsky. Sorry to interrupt but I have a note for you," a somewhat nervous casino employee handed her a folded piece of paper, nodded then scurried off.

She looked intently at the note, her demeanour remained unchanged. She stood from her seat and reach into her purse to pay her for her drinks."I'll take care of that", his hand touched hers as he did so but she instantly pulled back.

"No that's ok," he noticed a definite change in her tone.

"I insist," he deemed the matter closed. "You can always buy me a drink the next time."

"If you must." She looked at him, there was no great expression on her face and the expected thank you did not arise. Her demeanour clearly said there would be no next time. And with that she turned and left.

He knew the note was the reason for her distress. She tried to hide it but he knew. He watched her leave in the bar's mirror. As she approached the stairs to exit the casino she was met by a tall man who grabbed her arm and spoke in her ear. They both walked outside. For a moment he felt he should follow them but decided against it, after all she went quite willingly. She had distracted him from his real purpose for long enough but deep down something told him she might become a permanent distraction.

He wondered who the man was. Not the boyfriend surely, he just couldn't see it. He tried to focus his mind and sear the man's image in his memory. Six foot three approximately, maybe two hundred pounds. Brown slightly unkempt hair and a generally dishevelled wore an American style suit, apparent for its less tailored cut. The man looked slightly imposing but not dangerous . He tried to focus harder..


"Stinson...STINSON."

"Uh, yeah," he replied without thought, still shaken by the abrupt end to his dreamings .

"Well do you have the monthly figures or not?"

"Sure, they're right here." Barney fumbled through the papers in front of him.