Probably, James is aware, he should've spoken to Pelagia weeks ago; probably, he knows, there is a very specific conversation that they should've already had. Unfortunately (or very, very conveniently; he hasn't decided), home office had called him in and sent him off again, bung wrist and all, so he'd had no more time than to leave a note for her ( Read more... )

The strange adjustment coming off assignment is one constant in James's life- there are more of those than you'd think, although it'd be a challenge to get him to name many of them. Ordinarily he spends it loafing around his London haunts or pretending the flat doesn't feel like a cage, but when he signs himself (somewhat painfully) out of the ( Read more... )

"You're a bloody idiot, Bond ( Read more... )

[19:48] * Treize laughs a little. "Twelve billion people on the Earth and her colonies. Not everybody likes me. How could they?"
[19:49] * James politely refrains so pointedly that it must be a joke.
[19:49] Treize: "My /dear/." James.
[19:49] James: "No, no. Go on."
[19:50] Treize: "But I can feel you /staring/."
[19:50] James: "I must be ( Read more... )

Some men of a rare and almost uniformly peculiar breed have the opportunity that we all know we don't want as much as we might say we do: to read their own obituary. M penned the obit for James Bond that ran in the Times, and in his flat there's a copy of it that he knows he didn't save (being, at the time, otherwise occupied) but nevertheless ( Read more... )

( The character expression meme! )

Box seats for Don Carlo at the Royal Opera House do not require all that much effort for James - by which the narration naturally means the procuring of these tickets somewhat at the last minute was promptly delegated to someone else and it's just better not to investigate that matter deeply. Arrivals for the six o'clock performance - besides ( Read more... )

All things being equal, this assignment ought to be a cakewalk: go to the Poseidon, confirm the (former) agent's identity, find out what he's there for, and get the hell out. As such, James is automatically concerned for the presence of a wrench in his plans. So far nothing, but he's only been in the hotel proper for seven hours - the last five of ( Read more... )

2AM, London, two and a half weeks after he left it.

Not exactly, James acknowledges wryly, unpacking the cases out of the trunk and locking the car behind himself. He stops to collect his mail before he goes up to the flat, still favouring his right side a little, and sorts through it as he fits the key into the lock. (Bill, bill, bill, letter he ( Read more... )

( and after that, the upwards fall, and were we angels after all? )