It was a sight to behold. The trim, broad shouldered, blue eyed mans' man running with quick sure steps in the park. He looped around effortlessly, making exercise look easy. He did not pant or gasp, he barely seemed to sweat, but that was not why people were looking. No, their focus strayed from the man to the cantankerous, red faced, soaking wet brunette just behind him.

"Why on God's" pant "green, bloody earth," gasp "did I decide to go jogging" pant "with you?" The last few words were cut off by the complete surrender she gave in to, holding onto a guide rail bent over the waist. She could feel her lungs slowly disintegrating and her heart sputtering in indignation. She begrudgingly relayed this to her companion.

"I'm fairly certain your heart is unable to sputter," his reply was smooth, voice completely unaffected despite the distance they had run.

Olivia looked up at the man in front of her, looking just as put together as he always did. The outfit was a change however. His normal 'business' look of slacks or a well fitted suite was replaced by casual black sweats and a dark grey hoodie. He looked particularly normal, despite is freakish good looks.

"Well for once, Mr. Bond, you are wrong. There are few words I can think of to describe the current state of my poor sad, completely out of shape heart, but stuttering seems accurate."

"I see that while you may be on the brink of death, your wit still thrives."

"It will be the last to go, after my dignity and soul." She replied while leaning heavily against the rail that held her up, trying to get her breathing back to a normal rhythm.

James simply observed her. He knew they drew a few looks, most out of cautious curiosity. What, with her huffing a puffing it was no shock that others glanced their way. He had a feeling that the male eyes stayed due to the movements below his companion's neck however. He hadn't had the chance to run behind her, but he had fairly good idea why he would catch stray eyes when he turned to check on the brunette.

"You need better exercise cloths." He stated the fact outright; their relationship did not have much space for beating around the bush. She looked up at him incredulously as he said his peace. She looked down at herself and frowned.

"You know James, you've a real knack for kicking a girl while she's down, you know that?" Shaking her head Olivia was happy to find her breathing almost human like again.

"When was the last time you bought sweats?" He was suddenly struck by the pure and utter ridiculousness of their conversation. He, James Bond, master spy and bringer of death and destruction, was asking after she shopping habits.

"James Bond, are you trying to plan a shopping trip with me?" Her smile stretched so wide he thought something would crack. "You know all you had to do was ask. We could always stop by that boutique on McArthur and 3rd. I bet you've been dying to-"

"I have no desire to go shopping with you," he knew how she got when she was in this mood. Olivia Grayson was an absolute pain in the arse at times. Once she found a way to tease him she followed that thread to the horse and then beat it to death continuously.

Eight months of friendship had taught him this. He had seen it a million times. He would say something completely inconsequential and she would latch on like a god damn leech. For a super secret undercover spy (her phrasing not his) he sure found himself in a heap of trouble and on the wrong end of more jokes than he would care to admit.

"James don't be so shy-"

"Just buy some new jogging gear," he slipped in before she got going again.

"Gear? What am I going to be doing? Storming a Scottish castle?" Bending down to tie her loose shoe laces, Olivia looked up at him through her lashes, a glint in her eyes.

"Your pants are too tight." He blurted out loud and then promptly slammed his eyes closed in exasperation. He was an adult damn it, a serious, brooding, hit man for the love of god, yet around this woman he blurted out his inner most thoughts without preamble.

She would be the death of him.

"My pants are most certainly not to ti-"

"You really thought you were outrunning that group of cross country first years?"

"I…" James simply lifted an eyebrow before grabbing the water bottle he had set down on the bench next to him and took a swift drink, eyes never straying from hers. "You've ruined my day." She finally replied in a deadpan tone.

"You said you wanted to get in shape, I was not-"

"Zumba! Or yoga! Those were my ideas of getting in shape. I don't plan on running a bloody marathon."

"Maybe you should. At this point you would die first in every horror movie scenario."

"Excuse me?! First of all I should not have shown you the wonders of B rated horror movies, and second I was always going to die first!"

"And why exactly would you be the first?"

"Because the rational one with the plan always dies first!" She was back to breathing heavy again, her chest heaving. They were face to face now and James tried to hold in the smile he could feel coming on.

Olivia Grayson was an anomaly in his life. What started out as simple coffee was becoming a stable friendship. He had never had one of those. Not in the foster family he grew up in, not in school, certainly not at the agency. He had also never spent so much time with a woman, a singular woman that is. Other than M he had wracked his brain for a woman he had seen more than three times and not promptly slept with (a fact Olivia often found the gall to poke fun at the bloody harpy) but came up empty handed.

They had ventured from coffee to lunch, from lunch to dinner, from dinner in public to dinner at her apartment. That one was completely by accident. (She had an emergency at work and forgot to inform him she wouldn't be able to make it. When she hadn't shown up, he worried. Up until that night she was unaware he knew where she lived. They had a small fight about boundaries, then she invited him in for cold left overs and bad television). From there they saw one another at least three times a week when schedules allowed. They had an understanding. When Bond was out on missions, they had been less lengthy as of late (M was still weary of deep cover assignments, something he both resented and understood) he would contact her when he got back into town and they picked up where they left off.

This was something he had never experienced, something he wanted to experience, and something he feared to experience. She was a touchstone now, when the darkness got to be overwhelming and he felt that panic and terror set in. She grounded him.

"You also need a new shirt, most likely a new sports bra, if you don't want the first years to purposely outrun you." With that cheeky reply he took off again, running at a casual pace.

"I need your middle name!" It was not the response he was expecting. He turned around, jogging backwards, confusion and exasperation coloring his expression.

"Why do you need my-"

"So I can yell your full name in exasperation and anger." She was jogging lightly again, her face completely stoic.

"I'll tell you my middle name… if you beat me to the end of the track," then he took off running at full tilt. The smile he was holding back came crashing onto his face, shaking his head as her voice reached him.

"I'm putting mushrooms on everything you eat for the next month!" A small part of him realized that telling her his hatred of the fungus was a mistake. He may be the spy in the relationship, but she sure knew how to use information against him.

It was then he realized, a moment of complete clarity, that he wouldn't have it any other way.

This is something I visit on occasion; not promising any other updates but my phone was blowing up with email notification about followers and favorites this week so I felt inclined! ALSO: I was waiting for a friend at a restaurant this weekend and she was late, thus I made an outline for the further chapters that I may someday, maybe, perchance, write:

5- Jogging *this one

6- MIA

7-Just another (explosive) day at the office

8- Coffee vs. Tea

9-It's kind of what I do…

10- Oh I'm fine, calling to see how you are… you know while slowly bleeding to death

11-My calling made you mad?

12-Trope City, a date to remember

13-Funny, how things seem so clear in the midst of panic and grief

14-Epilauge