#skyfall

A/n: How James met his wife~

James Bond first noticed you because you nearly made him miss a surveillance target.

He had been sitting at a café in Venice, watching a suspected arms broker across a crowded square while pretending to enjoy an espresso that had long since gone cold. The mission was straightforward, which usually meant something would go wrong eventually. What he hadn’t anticipated was an American tourist barreling into him while carrying a camera, three shopping bags, and enough enthusiasm to power an entire city.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!”

Coffee splashed across the front of his suit, you stared at the damage in horror asJames stared at you.

Then, to his complete confusion, you pulled a crumpled twenty-euro note from your pocket and offered it to him.

“For emotional damages.”

It was one of the strangest apologies he’d ever received.

It would not be the last.

Over the next several days, you appeared with alarming frequency. James saw you taking photographs of pigeons. He saw you following a street cat through three separate neighborhoods because, according to you, the cat looked “like a distinguished gentleman.” He saw you somehow get invited into the home of an elderly Italian woman despite speaking almost no Italian whatsoever. By the end of that afternoon, the woman was feeding you homemade pasta and introducing you to her grandchildren while you smiled as though you’d known them for years.

The truly terrifying part was that none of it seemed unusual to you.

James initially suspected you were CIA.

Then he overheard you spending twenty minutes debating whether a souvenir would fit in your suitcase.

The CIA theory died immediately.

You were simply a tourist.An unbelievably friendly, hopelessly distracting tourist.

Unfortunately, you also had the worst timing imaginable.

One afternoon James was pursuing the very criminal he’d been sent to track. The man spotted him and broke into a run through the crowded Venetian streets. James followed immediately, weaving through tourists and market stalls as the gap between them slowly narrowed. Another minute and the chase would have been over.

Then the suspect collided directly with you.

Your gelato flew one direction.

The suspect stumbled another.

You windmilled your arms in surprise and accidentally shoved him.

It wasn’t a hard shove.

It wasn’t even intentional.

Unfortunately, the suspect happened to be standing beside a canal.

The man toppled backward, disappeared over the edge, and struck his head on a support beam during the fall.

The resulting silence was deafening.

You slowly stepped toward the water and peered over the edge. “He’s fine, right?”

James looked into the canal, turned to look at you then back into the canal. “No.”

"Oh poo."

The next few hours involved police officers, witness statements, and several apologies from you directed toward practically everyone in sight. When MI6 learned what had happened, M’s response was surprisingly simple.

“Please make sure the American doesn’t get arrested.”

James had spent years serving his country.

Never once had he imagined his duties would include supervising an accidental tourist homicide.

Yet that was exactly what happened.

The longer he spent around you, the more bewildering you became. You befriended bakers, fishermen, shop owners, and entire families. You joined a cooking class after accidentally wandering into the wrong building and somehow ended the afternoon with three new recipes and an invitation to a wedding. You could not walk past a dog without stopping. You photographed cats like they were celebrities. You treated every stranger like a potential friend. The photo's on your camera proved it, everyone loved you.

And somehow, despite himself, James began looking forward to seeing you.

It happened gradually.

He started wondering what ridiculous thing you’d do next.

He found himself listening when you talked.

He laughed more.

Smiled more.

Worried more.

The realization was deeply irritating.

Then one morning he watched you board a train and leave. The station felt strangely quiet afterward.

James informed himself that this was a good thing, he realized that his life could finally return to normal.

Then several days later he found himself staring at a particularly fat pigeon and wondering if you would have taken its photograph.

That was when he realized he might have a problem. The problem became considerably worse when you suddenly reappeared in London.

James had been enjoying a peaceful afternoon at a café when your voice rang out behind him.

“HI!”

He lowered his newspaper and nearly choked on his tea

You stood there smiling as though crossing paths in another country entirely was the most normal thing in the world.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

You looked confused. “In London?”

“Yes.”

“Oh!! I’m backpacking across Europe.” You said it like that explained everything.

“It does not explain everything.”

“It kind of does.”

Then you informed him that driving eight hours in Texas was normal and James spent the next ten minutes questioning whether Americans understood geography.

From that point onward, you seemed determined to insert yourself back into his life.

One afternoon you spotted the fattest bulldog James had ever seen.

You gasped so dramatically that half the street turned to look. “BYE!”

Before he could react, you abandoned him , chair scrapping entirely and sprinted toward the dog as you waved the man down. “WAIT! LET ME TAKE A PICTURE OF YOUR DOG!”

James spent the next twenty minutes standing beside a stranger while you conducted what could only be described as a professional photoshoot. The bulldog’s owner proudly displayed hundreds of photographs. You examined every single one.

James should have been annoyed.Instead, he found himself smiling.

The truly dangerous moment came months later.

The two of you were sitting beside the Thames when you casually mentioned that your trip was ending.

“I should probably head home soon.”

James frowned. “Home?”

You nodded. “I can’t travel forever. I don’t have unlimited money.”

The idea hit him much harder than expected.

You were leaving.

Not moving to another city.

Not boarding another train.

Leaving.

Returning to America.

Returning to your State.

Returning to a life where he wasn’t included.

You stood and smiled warmly, gaze softened as you held your hand out.“It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Bond.”

James felt panic unlike anything a gunfight had ever inspired. “You’re welcome to stay with me.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

You stared.

He stared back.

For a long moment neither of you spoke.

Then your smile softened. “You don’t want me to leave.”

James hated how easily you’d figured it out, that was the worst part because you were right.

A year passed.

Somehow, somewhere between transatlantic flights and late-night phone calls, the two of you became inseparable.

Then came the day he finally flew home with you.

Your family lived in Texas, which James had already learned was approximately the size of several European countries combined. The moment your parents’ house came into view, your excitement became impossible to contain.

James had met world leaders.

Terrorists.

Royalty.

Assassins.

But for the first time in years, he felt nervous. You, meanwhile, looked delighted.

The front door burst open before you even reached it.

You threw your arms wide and announced at maximum volume, “COME MEET MY HANDSOME BRITISH BOYFRIEND!”

The house exploded into chaos.

Family members appeared from every direction. Dogs barked. Someone shouted. Someone else started crying. Your mother immediately declared James handsome while your father stared at him like he was attempting to solve a complicated puzzle.

James stood there surrounded by loud voices, warm smiles, and enough affection to make him slightly dizzy.

Then he looked at you.

You were laughing.

Happy.

Home.

And looking at him like you’d never doubted he’d be standing beside you.

Years earlier, he’d thought you were simply a tourist he’d never see again.

A strange American who chased pigeons and accidentally killed an arms dealer.

Instead, you’d become the person he called first.

The person he missed most.

The person he loved.

As you slipped your hand into his and pulled him deeper into the house to meet yet another relative, James realized something that would have horrified the younger version of himself.

He couldn’t imagine his life without you anymore.

Charles winning Austin 2024

Max winning Brazil 2024

Not a coincidence, right??