007

    ❝ no offense intended, sir, ❞ james starts, pushing the office door closed.  ❝ but you look like you’ve had a trying day. ❞

      life has been hectic for me lately and muse has been non-existent-- but i’ve got a burst of it right now so i’m going to try and take advantage lmao.

there’s the James she knows and loves. Maria waves him off as he leaves, typing one handed and shrugging out of her jacket. “oh no, i appreciate the comments.” she grins back at him, pointing at the television. “keep watching that, i’m going to change.” it’s a little early to know if they’re actually going to have the opportunity to break into any rooms tonight, but the outfit that she’s currently wearing isn’t was not meant to be comfortable enough for lounging. she’s got a short and tshirt set that fits nicely under her tactical suit (just in case), and she pulls it out of her luggage. “why don’t you call down to room service then?” she calls over her shoulder, tugging her blouse off and reaching for the zipper on her skirt. “i trust your taste in food.”

   she opens her mouth to comment on the request — but she stops herself just before pointing out that that might be counterproductive. besides, people are usually begging her to shut up, not asking her to keep talking. but instead, caroline just looks back down at the paperwork, a small smile playing at her features before she speaks.  ❝ oh i’m just trying to figure out if i can categorize you stealing and crashing a car as an us expense — because you technically stole and crashed it — or if i can convince them that it was technically the enemy’s fault because they left it unlocked and the keys within reach. ❞  caroline furrows her brow, taps her pen a few times, and then shrugs.  ❝ i’m going with it being their fault. ❞  don’t put james bond near anything you don’t want to be a weapon. it’s common sense. flipping a page, she jots down a few more things before setting the paper aside and grabbing another one, glancing up at him briefly and feeling herself start to smile again before she looks away.  ❝ — did you seriously lose ten million dollars gambling with a wannabe-terrorist? ❞

                      Oh wow, that’s how he wants to play this? If he thinks Bucky will cave in now just because Bond brings the women into play, he’s sorely mistaken. They start to giggle even louder at his question, and the taller one has the audacity to say something about Bucky being American as if that alone is a reason to declare him a naughty boy. Bucky only smirks, still leaning casually against the elevator wall, though his hips have an almost lazy lead tilt to them that’s directed at the other man. “Well, you look like the type to put misbehaving boys in their place, Mister Bond,” he points out in a sort of coquettish voice before licking his upper lip slowly. “So I think you’d be a match for me, don’t you agree?”

she smiles and rolls her eyes, passing James a pen and a pad of paper. “i’d tell you to start writing in the waiting room, but my assistant might not survive the encounter,” she says dryly. his charm is even more potent when he’s not trying, more’s the pity. Maria turns to the cupboard behind her desk, opening it and pulling out a kettle. the perks of having a fancy office; she doesn’t have to leave to get coffee or tea. “black, green, or herbal?” she offers. her smile turns rueful. “you know, i’m hoping this is over soon, but it is nice to see you.”

  He waits, listens, but the noise isn’t repeated. They can only hope they aren’t being attacked – M does have a gun with him, but since the mission isn’t authorised, any kind of shootout would be quite impractical. Still his hand disappears in his open jacket. Just in case.

“You think it’s possible someone saw us?” he asks Bond in a hushed voice, eyes darting around to try and see anything suspicious, out of the ordinary. Everything is lying in perfect silence, though.

      james continues to walk  backwards out of the street with m, his gaze drifting around the street for a moment. there doesn’t seem to be any more sounds coming from the darkness, so he relaxes just a little, and leads m around the corner.

                     He fakes a scandalized gasp. “My, JB, I’m getting some serious gay and also very kinky vibes here,” he points out as he leans against the lift wall, letting his eyes wander up Bond’s general appearance with a smirk. Two can play this game, you know; and frankly, Bucky is too old to give a shit anymore what people might think of him and his sexuality. Is he gay? He wouldn’t call himself that. But he’s also very definitely not straight. “I think I can be a very good boy.” He timed that last sentence a little badly because the lift doors ping open and there are two women waiting to get in – and they definitely heard him if their half-choked giggle is anything to go by. Oh well. Bucky is always up for ruining a MI6 agent’s reputation.

“you’re not about to turn to the dark side, are you?” Maria teases him. she’s heard the way that everyone at mi-6 talks about the american agencies. not that she blames them, they do their own share of trash talking the brits. she rolls her eyes fondly when he leaves the room, turning back to the computers and slipping into the hotel’s system. by the time he comes back she has the cameras they need playing on the television, and the computer program their techs came up with is skipping through the check-ins. “i’m tempted to ask if you always live in the gutter, or if it’s just these missions that bring it out in you,” she says, continuing their conversation as James comes back into the room. “do you think we should grab some popcorn while we watch the stunningly exciting comings and goings of the hotel?” 

        >> ⚔️ <<            CONTRACTS OF THE GROWING    calibre,    while not something he enjoyed,    would get done regardless of the steps required.    he   CARED    too much about what he knew already and how it     hurt    innocents in the first place to stop where he was at in the hunt just because    SOME AGENCY GOT INVOLVED.

           ❝              IT ISN’T.    though what’s the use of intelligence if it does not stop the threat before it happens,          ❞         the comment isn’t accusatory as it aims to merely point an issue out into the open some    ;    brow    raising    at the comment of non   -    human trafficking.   that could mean a lot of things    (    or species,  considering some humanoid still,   in his world,    potentially    COULD    be an elf of some kind    ).    he does not however,    reaching out to take the phone that was offered,    scrolling through    INFORMATION AND BRIEF.

      he can tell that Geralt isn’t particularly THRILLED about having to work with MI6, but that doesn’t really matter. James is going to be working this regardless of whether or not Geralt wants him there-- whether they work together will be determined by the man’s attitude, really. 

    Bond’s reaction – or lack thereof – surprises him. He expected him to give one of his infamous remarks, but not this. Not this silence. It’s good, though – less to explain. “Desperation, I suppose,” Mallory admits truthfully. “It’s the final lead, I’ve followed every other one and they all ended in…nothing.” Disappointment, mostly. Years of work, and then back to zero. Again and again.

“I came across his name multiple times during my investigations and—“ A noise behind them has him stop, and Mallory turns. It is too dark to see anything, though. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation someplace else…” he suggests in a whisper.

      it’s out of respect for the older man that James doesn’t immediately start asking him questions-- this isn’t really the time and place for it, that can be done at a later date. because he will want to satisfy his curiosity regarding what actually went down.  ❝ ah, i see. what was the official finding at the time? what did they say happened? ❞

                      The thing is, Bond is probably right. Bucky would do a lot if he could keep this car, and spilling some or Fury’s secrets ain’t that bad, anyway. That asshole loves to keep everything hidden. “I mean, I gotta be honest here, it would be nice to be on the other side for once, you know. Being seduced instead of doing the seducing. It’s a modern world now, right?” he points out with a grin as he climbs out of the car. Unfortunately, he can’t get away with just pocketing the keys, so he drops them into Bond’s open palm with another big sigh. “You’re a goddamn spoilsport,” Bucky mutters. Who knows, maybe they can take the car to that gala event. Or he really needs to fire up his Barnes charm and do some seducing. “Okay, lead the way.”

     She can’t tell whether he’s patronizing her or not, but it doesn’t really matter. Elektra’s already got a mental map going of the nearby bridges and roads off the beaten path that are less likely to see traffic at this time of night. Bold arrogance of this one to try to commandeer her vehicle. Oddly enough he’s hasn’t threatened her, though, and perhaps it’s this combination that leads her to believe he might be worth having a conversation with. She spares him another glance. “Anyone could see into that room,” she replies like her being ‘found out’ is a non-issue. “Besides, I came in through the front door.” Invited and perfectly legitimate, thank you very much. She actually does know the man who occupies that office. While that area was definitely off limits and she’d be escorted out, such an outcome would’ve been small potatoes. “So you tell me— what is your stake in this?”

.

      James hums softly as she speaks, a small smile playing across his lips for just a moment.  ❝ i was invited. ❞ just not into that room, but that’s besides the point. neither was she. a few strings had been pulled to make sure James had an actual paper trail and invite here, given who was in attendance. the last thing he’d need was to be thrown out before he could get up to the office, and it’s much easier if you don’t have to sneak around and not be seen at all. when she asks what his stake is, James arcs a brow slightly and glances at her. he can practically hear M’s disapproving voice telling him to say nothing and just get the drive.  ❝ i need some information that was on that drive. ❞ he tells her, deciding that it’s highly unlikely being vague is going to get him what he wants with her.  ❝ someone’s been up to something questionable that’s going to affect my organisation. ❞

she has to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling at the question, even as she shakes her head in response.   ❝ not a word. ❞  caroline smiles,  ❝ but i think i’ve learned a few new creative insults? ❞  although she can’t really be sure that they were insults. his latter question makes the smile dim somewhat and caroline shifts in her seat, hesitating only a moment before she nods.  ❝ mhmm. ❞  a lie. and a pathetic attempt at one at that. caroline watches as he sits up, worry creasing in her brow as she studies him for any sign of pain or discomfort. for a moment, she considers lying again. but the question is…well it’s comical, really. he’s laid out in a hospital bed. bandaged and bruised and hooked up to every manner of machines — and he’s asking if she’s okay.  ❝ would it sound totally pathetic if i admitted i don’t want to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it? ❞  everything feels safer, with him around. and maybe that’s a lot to put on one man’s shoulders but he’s james bond.  ❝ — and that’s not in like an…overly dramatic soap opera, ‘i’m secretly in love with you and am pregnant with your babies’ type way. it’s just… ❞  her hand lifts, mussing with her hair for a moment before she finishes the thought.  ❝ we need you. and there was no one else here. and that’s…that’s kind’ve bullshit, honestly. someone should be here. so i’m here. — do you speak spanish? ❞

    Admittedly, it is somewhat fascinating to see Bond work; there is a damn good reason he is chosefn for the most delicate operations, even if the man is often enough getting on M’s nerves and testing him. So far, however they both manage to pull themselves together, and while Bond gathers the information, Mallory makes sure they aren’t interrupted by uninvited guests. So far so good. He closes the gate as they leave, setting the lock into its original position, his gaze shifting over to Bond. Of course these questions had to come eventually.

“I suppose I do owe you an explanation.” He sighs and gestures for the other to come with him, away from the warehouse. “I have…reason to believe that this man…Alvarez…is responsible for…certain deaths.” He glances up, into Bond’s eyes, his own features soft. It takes him a lot of effort to finally say it, and when he does is voice is quiet. “My…wife’s death.”

      James’ brows pinch together for a moment as M starts to explain, but the answer definitely isn’t what he’d been expecting at all. he’d figured that it was something personal, but he’d assumed maybe it was an old open case that M wanted to see closed himself. not that this man might’ve murdered his wife.

❝ please, like you’ve never killed someone with a piece of paper before. ❞ a small scoff leaves her as she turns, pretending to sort through some of the papers as he moves towards the couch, getting himself settled. but as he lies back, she finds her gaze lifting to study him. it’s ridiculous to be worried about someone she doesn’t really know. it’s not like they’re friends, or anything. she just tends to bug him when he comes into the office, which isn’t all that often. but he looks tired. and he’s been through a lot. and it’s not like MI6 is at all worried about the toll it takes, doing what he does. and it’s also not like he has anyone else looking out for him. and — she stops the train of thought, looking back down at the mountain of papers and exhaling before she pulls her feet up and tucks them under her, grabbing a pen to start filling out some of the forms.