#bondfic

Ghost figures it out the second MacTavish hops off a transport truck and bumps him in the shoulder, all obnoxious cheeky grin and stupid accent. 

Through five layers (the leather on MacTavish’s tac gloves, the poly under that, his pullover, the henley under that, and the compression shirt under that,) he feels the jolt in his shoulder, up his neck and down through his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost mutters, gaze tracking MacTavish as he jogs across the tarmac and up the ramp of the waiting C-130, because MacTavish (“Soap,” Jesus Christ) doesn’t seem to have noticed anything at all, let alone anything amiss. 

So Ghost doesn’t say anything. Why would he, he doesn’t need to. They’re in close enough proximity most of the time these days that it does’t really matter. And MacTavish is fuckin’ touchy, puffed up little twat that he is, so it’s fine. 

It’s a problem after Las Almas. After Las Almas he has to tell Price.

Posted up in the church tower feelin’ like his fuckin’ skin was gonna melt off, MacTavish ducking corners and Shadows alone in the streets, two days holed up in a shitty safehouse after that, living in each other’s pockets, MacTavish’s shoulder warm and solid against his in the American approximation of a pub in Chicago. 

Yeah. It becomes a problem. 

Price stares at him for a long time after the words “MacTavish and I are bonded,” fall gruffly out of Ghost’s mouth, half a day after his mandatory two week post "North American adventure" leave ended. 

He’s jittery, bond sick his piecemeal medical education supplies helpfully, even as he contains it to cracking his knuckles and jerking his head side to side to crack his neck.

“Fuckin’ what,” Price says finally, “since fuckin’ when?” 

“Does it matter?” Ghost asks, rolls his shoulders, first one, then the other, then the first again, then both together, “He doesn’t know.” 

“He doesn’t know? How does he not know?” Price is incredulous, which is fair enough, Ghost supposes.

“Didn’t notice, I’d guess, when it happened,” Ghost shrugs. MacTavish, for once, isn’t the issue here. The issue is that Ghost’s gone and bonded himself to the little fucker, and now he can’t spend two weeks in his shit flat drinking shit bourbon by himself like an adult without getting fuckin’… weepy about it. About him, and what’s he’s doing on his leave, up somewhere in Scotland, without Ghost to watch his six and keep him out of fucking trouble. 

“Simon.” Price digs his knuckles into the inner corners of his eyes, presses them into the bridge of his nose, elbows on his desk as he hangs his head, “Are you seriously telling me that you bonded to Sergeant MacTavish an extended period of time ago and just didn’t say anything?”

Ghost thinks about it for a long minute and then says “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” 

Vague spoilers for No Time To Die

~~~

Can it really be as bad as everyone makes it out to be? Q wonders as he walks up the steps of the museum. Surely, it's an exaggeration.

He's heard whispers of the trails of broken hearts and even more broken bodies in the man's wake, heard tales of his charms and his exploits and how he usually gets what he wants. How he's damn good at his job, and damn good in bed, and damn good at getting anyone who comes close killed.

Q shakes his head. Exaggerations, surely.

Besides, who's foolish enough to get attached to someone like James Bond?

Fandom: James Bond (Dalton Movies) / Licence to Kill (1989) 

Rating: Teen & Up Audiences 

Relationships: James Bond/Original Female Character

Summary: For the prompt "forehead kiss".

Fandom: James Bond (Dalton Movies) / Licence to Kill (1989) 

Rating: Teen & Up Audiences 

Relationships: James Bond/Original Female Character, James Bond & Bill Tanner

Summary: "He hates this.

Hates that he can’t sleep. Hates that all he can think to do is shoot the living daylights out of things in the vain hope that it will inject some kind of feeling, some kind of life back into him.

What he hates the most, though, is that she’s not coming back."

Summary: Inspired by the prompt "things you said that I wasn't meant to hear" from @milverton 

Fandom: James Bond (Dalton Movies) / Licence to Kill (1989)

Rating: Teen Audiences

Warnings: None

Relationships: James Bond/Original Female Character

Summary: Kate waits for James to return from working abroad.  

Fandom: James Bond (Dalton Movies) / Licence to Kill (1989)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Relationships: James Bond/Original Female Character

Summary: “What do you mean I’m not going to work?!” She protests. “I’m giving myself five minutes, then I’ll get up and take some paracetamol or something.”  

Fandom: James Bond (Dalton Movies) / Licence to Kill (1989)

Rating: Mature Audiences

Warnings: None

Relationships: James Bond/Original Female Character

Chapter: 2 of 5.

Summary: four times james is jealous; one time kate isn’t.