For any of you who have ever been to Iceland and you find a mistake, please don't be afraid to correct me!
And my readers got lucky this time around. Over two thousand words in this chapter! It's Christmas!
Clouds tumble over one another, playing among the great expanses of the open, clear skies. A small breeze weaves in and out, seeking for its own source of fun among the small Icelandic town, Heimaey. The buildings and houses sprawl in the valley, mountains border lining the coast. Volcanic rock had intruded onto the harbor's waters in the beginning of the year, 1973. While destroying half the town upon Heimaey-meaning 'Home Island', the lava had increased the size of the 13.4 square kilometers (5.2 sq miles).
Somewhere in the center of the town's population of almost five thousand, a couple chats over cups of steaming hot chocolate. To any onlookers, the two seem to be long lost friends or romantic partners, for allusions are made to shared anecdotes with laughs and inquiries about others.
The man laughs after a particularly funny anecdote, his expressive blue eyes bright with humor. The ebb in the conversation lets both parties enjoy their warm drinks. Mischievous brown eyes peer over the rim of the ceramic mug.
"I never thought this would be so much fun, Brad." Rebecca Sparrow teases, referring to James Bond by his alias. Her fingers wrap around the mug, soaking in the warmth. The sun has yet to chase the night chill away from the Icelandic island. That explains the green, fleece lined jacket and silver scarf that she wears. And the flared jeans that makes Agent Sparrow look really good. Not that Bond noticed.
'Brad' relaxes in the wooden chair, his black leather jacket unzipped over a grey sweater. The double-oh looks impeccable as always, even in everyday clothes. Rebecca discovers that Bond doesn't need a well tailored suit to make him look sculpted. Bond already is.
"Oh, you'd be surprised, Kate." Bond replies, finishing off his own drink. "Sometimes you just need to be away from work for a bit." He replaces the mug back onto the table and checks his watch. It is almost half past nine. The hiking tour would be leaving soon. Devin Warren, the target of Bond and Sparrow's tailing mission, would be joining the tour of the Icelandic mountains.
To the seasoned double-oh, the mission could not be easier. All Q required was that a small device would be placed near Warren's laptop while the man was busy doing other things. Then Q-branch would have enough time-and the means-to hack into his laptop. A mission that required no interrogating, no killing, and absolutely no explosives. The scrawny little Quartermaster had hammered that idea into Bond's head. The mission should go off without a hitch.
To Rebecca Sparrow, the newest field agent in MI6, this mission meant everything. She had the luck-or misfortune, depending on what rumors she listened to- of landing 007 as her first partner on her first mission. Everyone talked about Bond's competence. He is unanimously voted as the best agent within MI6. But that doesn't mean dark rumors haven't been sneaking in and out of Sparrow's ears the past few days. Everyone, it seemed, feared for her life. Bond prefers to work by himself, not trusting anyone else. Rebecca hasn't seen any sign of that behavior -thankfully.
Maybe Bond was so accepting of his partner because she doesn't know any habits that he doesn't like. She didn't have any habits in the first place, so there is no need for Bond to correct any bad ones. Whatever the reason, Rebecca has found this mission almost enjoyable. If she forgot about the fact that she is supposed to be planting something onto her target, this trip to an Icelandic town could almost be counted as a vacation.
"Are you ready for the hike?" Bond inquires, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets. Rebecca takes one last sip of her heavenly hot chocolate before put it-a bit reluctantly- down next to Bond's. The sorrowful expression on the young woman's face makes the double-oh chuckle.
"We can always get more, babe." He says with a laugh, standing up before offering Rebecca his arm. Agent Sparrow accepts his offer, but arches an eyebrow at him.
"Mmm...babe?" She whispers the last bit with a teasing smile. Bond kisses her lightly on the cheek. Rebecca blushes-the perfect reaction-and intertwined their fingers.
"Of course. We've just got married, remember?" Bond replies with another smile. He raises their hands to study the simple ring that adorns the fourth finger on his left hand. To not draw any attention to themselves on this mission, Q had proposed as going as a newlywed couple. This trip's excuse could be their honeymoon.
"How could I forget?" Rebecca replies, returning Bond's kiss. And by forget she means remember. Q's underlings had downloaded pictures of the ceremony to both of their phones and cameras. It just so happened that she let them photoshop her own wedding pictures. Rebecca had to admit, some of the employees had way too much time on their hands if they could make it look like Bond was really there.
Bond hums in response, blue eyes gleaming. The two undercover agents make their way to the bus stop, holding hands and walking in step. And all sorts of other small motions that designate them as a couple.
Their target and his wife wait on a weathered wooden bench, a map open across their target's lap. Warren, a supposed businessman on holiday with his wife, pulls no extra attention from the crowd. His broad shoulders and small waist label his very typical body type as male. Warren's aquiline nose, knowing hazel eyes than gleam beneath his brow, and broad jaw cast gentle morning shadows across his face.
His wife, a blond, wispy kind of woman, points out various places on the map. Rebecca raises herself onto her toes and whispers in Bond's ear. The corners of his eyes crinkle when Agent Sparrow refers to the wife as a 'fragile little thing." It seems the newest agent is not impressed with Warren's spouse.
As planned, Rebecca stumbles when they walk by Devin. She reaches out with an outstretched hand to steady herself. Devin Warren, being the gentleman he has pretended to be, catches her wrist to provide a solid support.
"I am so sorry!" Rebecca apologizes, straightening up with his help, Bond already reaching forward. Her other hand brushes against the side of his laptop case. No one but the double-oh could notice the small black device that snags on the fabric.
"Are you alright?" Warren inquires, brown eyes studying Rebecca and Bond. Nothing gives him any reason to be alarmed. A couple on a vacation shouldn't draw a second glance, and they don't.
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Rebecca recovers, taking her hand from Warren's. She brushes the wet dirt from her jeans, darkening the fabric. She frowns at the stains, patting them with more vigor. "These were my favorite jeans." She sighs, giving up.
"Dirt will come out," Bond soothes, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. Janett, the wife, jumps up from her seat brandishing a few napkins from a breakfast restaurant.
"Here you go, dear. This might help." Mrs. Warren offers, kneeling down next to Rebecca. Rebecca thanks the older woman many times while they both attack the dirty jeans. Bond stakes a few steps out of their space.
"Never get between a woman and her favorite pair of jeans," Bond comments aloud, watching Rebecca with an amused expression. Warren chuckles next to him.
"I agree," Warren replies. He then turns to Bond and extends a hand. "Devin Warren."
Bond accepts his hand with a firm shake. "Bradley Curtis." He introduces himself, then motions to his wife. "This is Kate, my wife." Rebecca looks up and smiles at them both before returning to her task at hand.
"You are from England, yes?" Warren inquires, placing Bond's accent. Bond nods affirmative. The american doesn't miss anything. He had to be good if he organized smuggling across the middle east.
"We're on our honeymoon," Rebecca interjects, slipping under Bond's arm. She pulls her jacket tighter against her body, shivering. Bond, in turn, wraps an arm around her waist and gives her another kiss. Both play their parts beautifully.
"Congratulations, dear!" Janett gushes, beaming at them both. Devin exchanges a loving glance with her. He could remember the evening after their wedding and the honeymoon that followed. The chance to share a vacation with someone who he loved had made its lasting impression.
The bus arrives while Janett and 'Kate' chat about their wedding experiences, talking with increasing enthusiasm. 'Brad' and Devin board the bus after the two women, settling into a commonplace discussion about business and other mundane topics such as the weather. Bond sends a text to Q stating that they have gotten themselves settled and they are about to begin the hike. In other words, Q-branch has the go ahead to hack into Warren's laptop. Four hours should be more than enough time for them while Bond and Rebecca enjoy the crisp weather.
The lock chirps as it accepts Agent Sparrow's room key. She pushes open the weathered wooden door to their room. A large, king-sized bed takes up the middle of the room. Pale yellow wall paper with soft designs, white and light blue bedding, and sand colored carpet give the room the idea of a beach. Two suitcases sit empty in the open closet, their contents either hanging above them or in the drawers of the dresser. The weathered furniture adds a hospitable aura to the charm. Bond had been pleased with the room while his partner had fallen in love with the jacuzzi within the first few hours.
Rebecca tosses her backpack next to the closet with a well aimed throw before collapsing onto the bed in a fit of giggles. The young woman buries her head into the pillow, brown hair spreading about her in a halo effect. Bond raises an eyebrow in an amused expression, closing the hotel door behind him.
"Is there any particular reason why you are laughing or do I need to be concerned?" Bond inquires, setting his own backpack next to his partners. He chooses to recline in the very comfortable leather chair that makes the table into a desk. It already has been adjusted to the double-oh's preferences and the indentation of his back could be seen if someone peered close enough.
Rebecca sits up in the middle of the bed, stifling her mirth and wiping her eyes. "Oh, there are multiple reason, Mr. Bond." Bond gives her an expression that encourages an explanation.
"Is it nerves?"
"Yes, that and then some. You know how frightened I was to realize I would be paired with the most dangerous agent in all of MI6? On my first mission, no less? After all I heard about you and the field." Rebecca laughs quietly to herself. Yes, hysteria seems to have touched her voice, after all. Bond doesn't worry about it. The first mission is always the most nerve wracking.
"You shouldn't listen to the gossips. They have nothing better to do besides sit at a desk and file paperwork." Bond replies, pulling a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge before tossing it in Agent Sparrow's direction. She snags it out of the air with ease. The seal on the cap pops as she unscrews the lid and drinks some water.
"You know about the rumors?" She questions after having calmed down a bit. The danger-for the most part-has passed and now she and Bond could relax at the hotel before their next plane.
Bond's smile turns predatory. "I encourage them."
Rebecca chuckles at that before finishing the bottle. She lays back down right as her stomach complains with an audible grumble. The young woman blushes embarrassed pink when Bond laughs.
"Did that hike give you an appetite?" Bond looks up from reading Q's text. Q-branch had gotten a hold of everything they needed and left no trace of their passing. They had enough evidence to pinpoint the source of the smuggling and put a stop to it. Devin Warren should be in court by the end of the month.
"One thing you should know about me, Bond, is that I am always hungry." Rebecca responds with a smile. Her hair tumbles down in a messy cascade, almost covering her eyes. Bond can't deny that Rebecca is a beautiful woman with a sparkling personality. Whoever married had to be very lucky indeed.
"At least you aren't afraid to admit it," he mutters. He gets a pillow thrown at him for his troubles. It hits the side of Bond's face with a soft whump and falls to the floor. Blue eyes snap up in disbelief.
"Was someone being snarky?" Rebecca demands with a touch of humor. Another pillow is fisted in her hand, waiting to be thrown.
Bond raises his hands in surrender, mouth crinkling in a grin. "I surrender! Would room service be part of the conditions of surrender?" He teases, ducking under another launched feather-stuffed projectile.
Rebecca's smile twists into a wicked grin. "Add the hot chocolate and I will consider."
"Done," The double-oh replies without missing a beat. Yes, James Bond might be looking forward to working with young Agent Sparrow.
This is just a fun chapter dedicated to setting up the relationship between Rebecca Sparrow and James Bond. Does everyone think this is all right?
And LilyLunaPotter142 pointed out that I have been writing 'M16' instead of 'MI6'. I do apologize for the mix-up in later chapters. I was typing on my dad's old computer and he used to write army stories. The computer was automatically correcting my spelling even though I didn't need it to. I'll be working on that over the next few weeks. Thanks so much, dear!
This is also the first chapter typed up onto my new laptop 3 I now can work on this during school! I hope all of you that are still in school are having a blast!
Remember that reviews make my day!
