I'm back, my lovely readers! ;D I apologize for my long absence, but I have now found the drive to write again! I think school is the best time for me to write. 'Of Immortal Time' is a wonderful break ;P
I have made my move successfully, which is a relief. Boxes are still everywhere, but we still fight a gallant war! My new school is huge and I can't wait to get started! High school, here I come!
Without further chatter, here is the seventh chapter!
Chapter VII
A week later…
"Excuse me?"
Mallory sighs, but fixes the stunned double-oh with a no-nonsense look. M places a manila folder on the table before Bond. The double-oh picks it up, a shadow of confusion pacing over his eyes. And then Bond narrows his eyes, his mouth tightening in distaste.
"You're assigning me a partner?" Bond asks, his tone colored with disbelief.
"Don't sound too excited, 007," remarks Mallory with dry sarcasm. He stands up, a cue for Bond to rise from his chair. Both exit M's office, M walking half a pace ahead of Bond.
"Sir," begins Bond, the folder still clasped in one hand.
"Don't whine, 007. You sound like a child," scolds M. His comment makes Bond hold his tongue. M continues talking.
"As I was saying, I have decided to partner you up with a new agent. She has shown admirable skills and she might be worthy of double-oh status."
"And you have chosen me because…?" Asks the double-oh, questioning M's choice. It didn't make much sense. Not at all. He, James Bond, of all people should be dead last on the list for partner choices. Hell, Bond shouldn't even be on that kind of list.
M gives Bond a slide glance, "I want your judgment. I believe you can make the decision concerning our new agent." Bond didn't know what to say to that statement. Mallory turns down another hallway, heading down the familiar hallway to Q branch.
People walk along the main hallway, turning off into their various places. Harsh lights outline small, thin stalactites that hang from cracks in the concrete. Dark rooms and hallways branch off the main hall, closed with yellow caution tape. The sharp smell of new, industrial equipment mingles with the musky smell of the unused tunnels buried underground.
M walks into Q branch, nodding at those who greet him. As always, Q branch is bustling with activity. While scanning the room, Bond spots the lanky form of Q at his desk, talking to a woman. M nods to Bond, following his gaze. The two men advance to meet the newest agent.
"And this is your new Walther PPK," says Q as he hands the new agent the gun. The Quartermaster's eyes flick up at Bond and M's approach. The new agent turns, her soft brown eyes running over Bond even as the double-oh studies her. He is struck by how young she looks. Maybe she is in her mid-twenties?
The new agent's eyes peek out behind long lashes, her, dark brown hair framing her face in what used to be a bob hairstyle. Her high cheek bones give her an exotic appearance. She stands a handful of inches shorter than the double-oh, even with heels. She wears an elegant, simple navy blue dress. A pair of silver earrings adorns her ears, half hidden by waves in her hair.
"I want this back, if you please. Don't feed it to anything," the Quartermaster instructs her, giving Bond a half-glare. Bond raises his hands in mock surrender. Q is the only one besides Eve who can tease him without worried about any sort of… penalty.
"I don't try to destroy everything you give me," he says in defense. Thinking back on it, Bond never makes plans to destroy his gifts from Q-branch. It seems to just happen. Much to every Quartermaster's annoyance. The double-oh is quite sure he leads the agents in the race to drain M16's bank account.
Q rolls his eyes. "You let a Komodo dragon eat it, 007." The other agent gives them a small smile. Dimples appear in her tan skin. She extends her hand to Bond. Her nails have been manicured, for the tips arch in perfect curves and they glisten under a clear coat of polish. Don't ask how Bond knows these things.
"Rebecca Sparrow," She introduces herself, her smile spreading. Bond gives her a smile in return. So far, Bond hasn't found anything wrong with the new field agent. She is young, pretty, and she must be smart to get into M16. But if she can handle herself in the field, under fire… that's something else entirely.
"Bond, James Bond."
M nods, pleased. "Now, I have a simple task for both of you. You two are going to work together to complete it. I want a report as soon as you get here. Q will give you the details."
Q then tugs the folder out of Bond's hand. The Quartermaster looks over the file before handing each agent another folder. Bond receives another gun, giving Q a hurt expression when this one can't read his palm print. Q laughs and tells Bond he better bring it back. Then he will reconsider.
"Hopefully, this shouldn't be too complicated. You need to tail your target…." Q begins, pulling up pictures on his laptop. Bond meets Sparrow's eyes before they both settle themselves to listen to their briefing.
The next day
"Are you nervous?" Bond asks after he secures the luggage above his head. The morning sun files in from the small windows on the side of the airplane. Quiet now, the great engines lay in wait for take-off. Flight attendants pace up and down the aisle, assisting passengers by answering questions, proving help if they need it, and anything else their job requires.
"A little," Agent Sparrow admits, pushing her purse under the seat when Bond sits down. Her wavy hair has been pulled up into a high bun again, giving her a no-nonsense look. She wears a deep red V-neck, a simple silver pendant hanging from her necklace, and black slacks.
"Are you afraid of flying?" The double-oh questions her, noticing her tense shoulders. Agent Sparrow fiddles with a delicate ring around her left ring finger. She must be married. Her soft brown eyes look up to Bond's blue and she blushes a little, "Flying doesn't bother me, but heights do."
The double-oh reclines in a more comfortable position in the chair. Other people occupy a few other seats, but, thankfully, it isn't too crowded. Two business men sit across the aisle, two rows down, talking to one another in quiet voices. A woman rests a few rows behind the agents, her eyes closed. No one sits near Bond and Sparrow, and the double-oh assumes Q had something to do with it. Some privacy is nice, but Bond knows it is never absolute.
"Really?" he asks, accepting a drink from the stewardess. "Are you going to be fine when we take off? Do you need me to hold your hand?" teases Bond with one of his infamous smiles. Rebecca gives him a withering, but equally teasing glare.
"As if I'd want help from you," she retorts. Bond chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.
"I'm sure you're going to want my help before this is done. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into." He murmurs, keeping his voice low. As long as this new 'agent' could aim and shoot with accuracy, the mission shouldn't be too painful.
Welcome to my new OC! Rebecca Sparrow! Before anyone starts worrying, No, Bond is not going to fall in love with her. I have something else planned ;3 It is so great to see y' all again.
If you can, reviews would be wonderful! I want to know what you guys are thinking. I won't be afraid to accept other ideas and criticisms. Have at me!
