#ooooooooooooooooooooooo

“Are you really incapable of keeping people alive?” You scoff, throwing your things into your suitcase and listening for a response from across the hall. Having the cabin was rather nice for a change. Being able to openly discuss without anyone hearing and having space to stretch out - and get away from Bond - was nice. You also didn’t have to share a bed which was a blessing in and of itself. 

“If I wanted to do that I would’ve gone to medical school.” He teases. With most of your belongings packed you stalk into his room, only to find him shirtless and dabbing at a very gruesome injury. 

“Maybe you should have with how often you’re resolved to doing this.” You scold, approaching him and looking to the first aid kit, moving to help when he pulls the case away. 

“’M fine. I’ve got it handled.” You watch him retreat before glancing at you. “Now, as for the matter at hand - he would’ve rat us out if we hadn’t killed him.” 

“We? We? Sorry, who pulled the trigger? Right, I believe it was 007? And last I checked I was 005? So.... you. You killed him.” You correct him before catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You then returned to your room to take a shower. 

That was three days ago. 

You’re now on day four of waiting on extraction - there’d been a hiccup somewhere along the chain of command and no one was sent to fetch you from the cabin. So, you’d been stuck avoiding James as long as you possibly could’ve. 

You’re getting up from your reading spot with your empty tea cup, moving to go and refill when you spot Bond at the counter peeling an apple. He’s pretty honed on to the task - until a board under your foot gives you away. His head’s popping up to look at you mid turn back to your room when he clears his throat. You sigh as he begins to speak. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been avoiding me.” 

“Avoiding you? Now why on earth would I do that?” You mockingly speak as you enter the cabin’s shared space. He gives you a questioning brow as his hands continue to move.

“Do I dare mention the pile of dishes at the foot of your door?” You freeze a little and give a glance to said pile. It was much larger than you remember it being initially.

“Maybe I’m treating this like a paid vacation. After all that’s kind of what it’s become.” You’re not wrong though. MI6 had paid you for ‘inconveniencing’ you and you got to actually enjoy the glamorous cabin that they’d put you up in for the mission. You’d hoped that it’d last longer than the expected 4 days - spoiler, it had and hadn’t. With James killing the mark, you were only on day 2. But with the four days of waiting, you were here for nearly a week already. 

“Right, right.” He’s finished cutting the skin off the apple, cutting it into slices he eats off the back of the paring knife. “Clue number two. You keep avoiding my eyes.” Were you?  You’d come to sit at the edge of the island where barstools were lined along the way, playing with the string on your bag of tea. 

“Am not.” 

“Are too.”

“Am not.” The childish bickering ends at his next statement. 

“Fine. Look me in the eye then.” James positions himself to lean on the counter, waiting for your gaze to meet his. Hesitantly, you do so, looking at him directly in his cool blues. In your peripheral, you can see the stopwatch function on his watch spinning. 

“Are you timing me, 007?” 

“Maybe I am, 005.” 

You two sit there, unmoving, staring for some time. As you do so, you find yourself drifting. Melting almost. You’ve always been so cautious as to not get caught in staring, but now... he’s giving you the chance to do so. You’re counting wrinkles in his furrowed brow, noticing the way his shirt sits snugly against him. The popped collar and unbuttoned fasteners leaving a small peek of skin between creme fabric of his Henley. Your gaze drops at the ringing of a phone - his - sat on the counter, vibrating against the granite. You look back up to him, seeing his gaze is still solid. 

“Are... are you gonna get that?” You mumble the question, watching him pick it up - eyes unmoving to you. When he does so, he’s answering questions briefly before hanging up, still staring you down. 

“They had an equipment failure. They’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He relays the information to you and you give a slow nod. You’re starting to move from your seat when he speaks your name. 

“What?” You ask, seeing his expression has changed even as you move to the electric kettle. Turning it on, you’re getting a new tea bag, turning to do so when you see him leant up against the counter, back to it, arms crossed. “What, Bond?” You try again, seeing him lift a hand and pull his index finger in a silent ‘come here’. After almost five minutes of his gaze, you’re following, just out of pure intimidation, approaching carefully. You stand in front of him, watching him cautiously. His hand moves to cup yours - instinctively you move to grip his wrist, which is what prompts a word out of him. 

“Easy, angel.” He hums, thumb carefully caressing your cheek. Before you can retort anything, he’s pulled you to him, his lips meeting yours. You can taste the remnant apple juice left on his lips from his snack. Mixed with the intoxicating smell of his body wash - cologne - whatever the hell it was that made him smell so good, you’re too lost in it to notice the way his hand pulls your hip closer to you, your neck craning back a little. 

In all the times you’d imagined kissing Bond, none of them have ever gone like this. Your frame is frozen in place - scared to move - scared to pull away. Until the breaking of a latch from the far side of the cabin rings into the building. 

The two of you both pull away, quick to draw weapons from concealment, aimed to the direction of the sound. 

“Finish this conversation later?” He questions.