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31_days2006-04-22 11:38 pm
tortillafactory.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-04-22 11:38 pm
[22 April] [James Bond] Queen and Country
Title: Queen and Country
Day/Theme: April 22 - Of cabbages and kings
Series: James Bond
Character/Pairing: Nah, figure it out.
Rating: PG-13
"I'm a professional stranger," he said, smiling. He took a pull from his cigarette. "How can you be homesick if you don't have a home?"
The girl shook her head. "I would be homesick everywhere, I think. I would always want to belong." She gauged his reaction carefully. His smile was cruel and wild and wolfish and it frightened her a little.
Shrugging abruptly, he said: "I grew up cosmopolitan. I haven't got a culture of my own, and I like it that way - I can't think of one that particularly suits me."
No rules, no constraints. This man was as undisciplined as any savage animal. To this girl, raised prim and proper in a family with money, he seemed to be of a different species. "It's not a matter of finding one that suits you," she insisted. "Everyone needs a home."
"Why?" He tossed the spent cigarette aside, and sat up straighter. "When I work, who am I working for? The man who orders me around? Well, where do his orders come from? Who am I really working for? Queen and Country? Or am I just working, to put food on the table?" He let out a breath. "Either way, the world keeps turning. I'm a fatalist, you know. I always have been. I imagine I always will be."
"That seems like a dreadful way to live."
"Not especially. I'm free to do what I want." It was obvious what he meant by this. The proper response, the girl knew, was to turn away demurely and let him know she wasn't interested in his propositions. Instead she felt a light in her eyes, she felt herself leaning closer to him. She thought of how she had watched him kill that bleeding deer who had wandered into the party grounds - not wanting to bother the host for a firearm, he had gone after it with a rock. The girl, breaking free from her parents' apron-strings for once, had followed him on his trek. It was, he explained to her, merely a mercy kill. Some idiot had shot it and left it to die a long, painful death. This was best for it.
None of this explained the glint in his eyes as the last of the deer's life ebbed away.
She knew well the supposed intimacy between an animal and the one who kills it, but she couldn't help but shiver at the cruelty of this dark, handsome man. She feared him, and the fear excited her.
What would Mother think of me now?
"It can't be so much fun," she insisted. "Just doing what you want all the time. I'd be bored after a while."
That grin again. "I seriously doubt that, Monique."
Suddenly she looked at him. "Why did you kill that deer?"
This came out of nowhere, and he was appropriately bewildered for a moment. "It had to be done."
She had expected no other answer.
He touched her hand as it lay on the table; his was warm and rough. Before she knew it he was there, kissing her, and she melted because she couldn't help it but the fear still twisted in her heart.
"Andrew..."
It was a heartbreaking whisper, but Andrew Bond was not prone to heartbreak. He took her chin in his hand, fiercely, and kissed her again.
///
NOTE: Andrew and Monique Bond are James' parents, as revealed by Ian Fleming in the novel You Only Live Twice.
Day/Theme: April 22 - Of cabbages and kings
Series: James Bond
Character/Pairing: Nah, figure it out.
Rating: PG-13
"I'm a professional stranger," he said, smiling. He took a pull from his cigarette. "How can you be homesick if you don't have a home?"
The girl shook her head. "I would be homesick everywhere, I think. I would always want to belong." She gauged his reaction carefully. His smile was cruel and wild and wolfish and it frightened her a little.
Shrugging abruptly, he said: "I grew up cosmopolitan. I haven't got a culture of my own, and I like it that way - I can't think of one that particularly suits me."
No rules, no constraints. This man was as undisciplined as any savage animal. To this girl, raised prim and proper in a family with money, he seemed to be of a different species. "It's not a matter of finding one that suits you," she insisted. "Everyone needs a home."
"Why?" He tossed the spent cigarette aside, and sat up straighter. "When I work, who am I working for? The man who orders me around? Well, where do his orders come from? Who am I really working for? Queen and Country? Or am I just working, to put food on the table?" He let out a breath. "Either way, the world keeps turning. I'm a fatalist, you know. I always have been. I imagine I always will be."
"That seems like a dreadful way to live."
"Not especially. I'm free to do what I want." It was obvious what he meant by this. The proper response, the girl knew, was to turn away demurely and let him know she wasn't interested in his propositions. Instead she felt a light in her eyes, she felt herself leaning closer to him. She thought of how she had watched him kill that bleeding deer who had wandered into the party grounds - not wanting to bother the host for a firearm, he had gone after it with a rock. The girl, breaking free from her parents' apron-strings for once, had followed him on his trek. It was, he explained to her, merely a mercy kill. Some idiot had shot it and left it to die a long, painful death. This was best for it.
None of this explained the glint in his eyes as the last of the deer's life ebbed away.
She knew well the supposed intimacy between an animal and the one who kills it, but she couldn't help but shiver at the cruelty of this dark, handsome man. She feared him, and the fear excited her.
What would Mother think of me now?
"It can't be so much fun," she insisted. "Just doing what you want all the time. I'd be bored after a while."
That grin again. "I seriously doubt that, Monique."
Suddenly she looked at him. "Why did you kill that deer?"
This came out of nowhere, and he was appropriately bewildered for a moment. "It had to be done."
She had expected no other answer.
He touched her hand as it lay on the table; his was warm and rough. Before she knew it he was there, kissing her, and she melted because she couldn't help it but the fear still twisted in her heart.
"Andrew..."
It was a heartbreaking whisper, but Andrew Bond was not prone to heartbreak. He took her chin in his hand, fiercely, and kissed her again.
///
NOTE: Andrew and Monique Bond are James' parents, as revealed by Ian Fleming in the novel You Only Live Twice.