Completely Pointless
Dec. 23rd, 2005 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrThis is probably the dumbest four pages I've ever written. I know zilch about the verse -- be it cannon or fannon. I don't even know if there *is* a fandom, though I'm sure there is.
But basically it amuses me that, minus his cohorts, people want either to kill or fuck him. There's no inbetween, really. So I figured if there are completely random women who pop up out of nowhere who want to jump him, why not a guy? And I think you'd be hardpressed to argue the man is completely straight; he just likes bedroom athletics too much.
Anyway. This chunk is crap, b/c I know thismuch about it and right now don't feel like getting into it. But I was amused enough to write it (and have been able b/c *everyone* except me is asleep right now). May someday expand it into a respectable fic, but for now please note only that the character and 'verse do NOT belong to me. Am only having fun.
“Right this way, Mr. Porter.”
James didn’t bother to hide his appreciation as the woman stood up and began to lead the way down a hallway. He wasn’t sure who had written the rule where secretaries under the age of forty had to wear short, tight skirts but if he ever met the man he would thank him profusely.
From the tolerant smile she threw over her shoulder, it looked as though this assignment would have all the usual perks. Assuming he didn’t have to blow things up too soon. Well, he would know soon enough.
“Here you are, Mr. Porter.” Elisabeth stopped just outside the door. “He’ll be with you in a moment.”
“Thank you, Elisabeth.” James smiled at her, and got a look that was definitely an invitation in return.
A woman faster than he. Those were always fun.
James set thoughts of Elisabeth aside and turned his full attention to his assignment.
The room was relatively plain; no fancy trappings or intimidating gadgetry here. His estimation of the targets went up a few notches; he got so bloody tired of the showy ones. This was nothing more than a simple office. A trifle cold, but given the heat outside he could understand. No real design scheme, just a blue carpet and good, simple office furniture – bookcase, table, and a large, l-shaped desk.
But the man behind the desk was far too young to be the one he was supposed to be meeting. “You are not Donald Kelter.”
The young man grinned – James realized it was hard to determine his age, which annoyed him. “And you are not Mr. Porter.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You are Mr. Bond. James Bond. Or would you prefer double oh seven?”
James smirked. “And whom might you be?”
“Leslie Phillips.” His fingers flew over the keyboard for a few seconds, then he pushed away from the desk and stood.
Had to be mid-twenties, James surmised. Any younger and he would have done something incredibly stupid, and someone older was less likely to have such a lithe, bony frame. He was tall – perhaps a hair or so taller than James – and had the pale skin of those who spent most of their time indoors. He moved with lazy grace, and seemed at complete odds with the professional atmosphere in carpenter jeans and a tight green t-shirt, one ear with four piercings and the other with three. But he thought the kid – man – was about as lazy as a jungle cat.
An impression reinforced by sharp green eyes that traced James up and down, the too-easy way he leaned against the desk and continued to stare. A cat who had nowhere to be and plenty of time to waste.
And, if James were honest, a very pretty cat. The kind of mouth you wanted to watch lick cream – and then lick cream from. Elisabeth and her tight skirt suddenly did hold as much appeal. Huh. It had been a long time since he’d traveled that road.
This mission was becoming less boring by the second.
“Most,” Leslie said. “Simply call me Lez.”
“And how do you know me?” James asked. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He kept his eyes on Lez’s face.
Lez grinned. “Only an idiot in Kelter’s line of business wouldn’t know a double oh agent on sight.” His grin widened. “Elisabeth, by the way, is an idiot with anything beyond reception and fucking.”
“I see,” James said idly. And he did. It meant the only information he’d get out of her would be inadvertent, and probably none at all. “Where is Mr. Kelter, by the way? I doubt he asked you to take all his appointments.”
“He snuck off for a nap after he managed to crash his computer for the fifth time today.” Another quick grin. “Left me to fix it and made me promise not to tell Elisabeth that he’d gone off. She’s very serious about everyone keeping to schedule, even her boss.”
James nodded. “So you’re a tech.”
“Yes. I control everything except security. As Mr. Kelter is hopeless with anything more complicated than a wind-up pocket watch…there are plenty of things to keep me busy. But mostly I fix his computer and the wireless system he manages to wreck at least once a week.”
“Quite busy indeed…” James agreed. Also quite informed, then. Lez probably knew at least as much, if not more, about what Kelter did than even Kelter himself knew. But where precisely was this headed? “A cat is only supposed to take the cream his master leaves for him.”
Lez looked more like a cat than ever as he licked his bottom lip. “It’s not my fault he always forgets to put it away.”
“How does the man manage?”
“He wouldn’t, without me.”
James lifted one brow. “And what? Now the little kitty wants to share his cream? Why?”
“This kitty,” Lez said, eyes locked with James’s. “Has his reasons. Those I won’t be sharing. But I’d be more than willing to cooperate with you, Mr. Bond.”
James didn’t break their locked gaze. “What do you want?”
“A location.”
“Location? I can recommend several, it depends on what you’re looking for in one.”
“A man. I thought working for Kelter would give me his location, given that they’re business partners. I’ve had no luck.” Lez smirked. “Even a kitty gets impatient. I’m certain you’d be more than capable of learning it for me – probably with a mere phone call. Give me that and I’ll give you Kelter and whatever else I can.”
James’s eyebrow went up again. “It’s not someone under our protection is it?”
“Certainly not.”
“Well, then.” James smiled. “I believe we can work something out.”
Lez relaxed, legs spreading a bit wider as he let his weight fall more fully on the desktop. “Excellent.” Teeth flashed as he gave one of his quick, sly grins. “And here I always heard you were so difficult to work with. But I guess you could be lying.”
“Oh, I’m normally quite difficult. Though in my defense, they always start shooting at me first.” James took a step closer. “So I try to take full advantage when something easy falls into my lap.” Another step.
Lez reached out and snagged him by the tie, tugging James across the remaining space between them. He let go of the tie and let his finger trail down James’s chest. His breath was sweet as he tilted his head up to speak. “Is that what you’re going to do? Take full advantage?”
“Any objections?” James asked with a smirk. He let his own hands explore, feeling what was surprisingly developed muscle beneath worn denim, his other hand inching under the too-tight t-shirt to see what it might find there.
Lez wrapped wiry arms around James neck. “None. I’ve heard quite a bit about the infamous James Bond. I’d like to see how much of it is true.” He licked James’s lips, manner lazy and slow.
Like, James thought, laughing at himself, a cat enjoying a bowl of cream. He took over, kissing hard, deep. Lez tasted like he’d just finished his tea, and like he took it with lots of sugar and cream. “Kitty really does like cream.”
Lez laughed into his mouth and flicked his quick, pink tongue out to lick James’s lips again. “Mmm, yes. But only the finest.”
“Then I am surprised you did not seek me out sooner.”
But basically it amuses me that, minus his cohorts, people want either to kill or fuck him. There's no inbetween, really. So I figured if there are completely random women who pop up out of nowhere who want to jump him, why not a guy? And I think you'd be hardpressed to argue the man is completely straight; he just likes bedroom athletics too much.
Anyway. This chunk is crap, b/c I know thismuch about it and right now don't feel like getting into it. But I was amused enough to write it (and have been able b/c *everyone* except me is asleep right now). May someday expand it into a respectable fic, but for now please note only that the character and 'verse do NOT belong to me. Am only having fun.
“Right this way, Mr. Porter.”
James didn’t bother to hide his appreciation as the woman stood up and began to lead the way down a hallway. He wasn’t sure who had written the rule where secretaries under the age of forty had to wear short, tight skirts but if he ever met the man he would thank him profusely.
From the tolerant smile she threw over her shoulder, it looked as though this assignment would have all the usual perks. Assuming he didn’t have to blow things up too soon. Well, he would know soon enough.
“Here you are, Mr. Porter.” Elisabeth stopped just outside the door. “He’ll be with you in a moment.”
“Thank you, Elisabeth.” James smiled at her, and got a look that was definitely an invitation in return.
A woman faster than he. Those were always fun.
James set thoughts of Elisabeth aside and turned his full attention to his assignment.
The room was relatively plain; no fancy trappings or intimidating gadgetry here. His estimation of the targets went up a few notches; he got so bloody tired of the showy ones. This was nothing more than a simple office. A trifle cold, but given the heat outside he could understand. No real design scheme, just a blue carpet and good, simple office furniture – bookcase, table, and a large, l-shaped desk.
But the man behind the desk was far too young to be the one he was supposed to be meeting. “You are not Donald Kelter.”
The young man grinned – James realized it was hard to determine his age, which annoyed him. “And you are not Mr. Porter.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You are Mr. Bond. James Bond. Or would you prefer double oh seven?”
James smirked. “And whom might you be?”
“Leslie Phillips.” His fingers flew over the keyboard for a few seconds, then he pushed away from the desk and stood.
Had to be mid-twenties, James surmised. Any younger and he would have done something incredibly stupid, and someone older was less likely to have such a lithe, bony frame. He was tall – perhaps a hair or so taller than James – and had the pale skin of those who spent most of their time indoors. He moved with lazy grace, and seemed at complete odds with the professional atmosphere in carpenter jeans and a tight green t-shirt, one ear with four piercings and the other with three. But he thought the kid – man – was about as lazy as a jungle cat.
An impression reinforced by sharp green eyes that traced James up and down, the too-easy way he leaned against the desk and continued to stare. A cat who had nowhere to be and plenty of time to waste.
And, if James were honest, a very pretty cat. The kind of mouth you wanted to watch lick cream – and then lick cream from. Elisabeth and her tight skirt suddenly did hold as much appeal. Huh. It had been a long time since he’d traveled that road.
This mission was becoming less boring by the second.
“Most,” Leslie said. “Simply call me Lez.”
“And how do you know me?” James asked. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He kept his eyes on Lez’s face.
Lez grinned. “Only an idiot in Kelter’s line of business wouldn’t know a double oh agent on sight.” His grin widened. “Elisabeth, by the way, is an idiot with anything beyond reception and fucking.”
“I see,” James said idly. And he did. It meant the only information he’d get out of her would be inadvertent, and probably none at all. “Where is Mr. Kelter, by the way? I doubt he asked you to take all his appointments.”
“He snuck off for a nap after he managed to crash his computer for the fifth time today.” Another quick grin. “Left me to fix it and made me promise not to tell Elisabeth that he’d gone off. She’s very serious about everyone keeping to schedule, even her boss.”
James nodded. “So you’re a tech.”
“Yes. I control everything except security. As Mr. Kelter is hopeless with anything more complicated than a wind-up pocket watch…there are plenty of things to keep me busy. But mostly I fix his computer and the wireless system he manages to wreck at least once a week.”
“Quite busy indeed…” James agreed. Also quite informed, then. Lez probably knew at least as much, if not more, about what Kelter did than even Kelter himself knew. But where precisely was this headed? “A cat is only supposed to take the cream his master leaves for him.”
Lez looked more like a cat than ever as he licked his bottom lip. “It’s not my fault he always forgets to put it away.”
“How does the man manage?”
“He wouldn’t, without me.”
James lifted one brow. “And what? Now the little kitty wants to share his cream? Why?”
“This kitty,” Lez said, eyes locked with James’s. “Has his reasons. Those I won’t be sharing. But I’d be more than willing to cooperate with you, Mr. Bond.”
James didn’t break their locked gaze. “What do you want?”
“A location.”
“Location? I can recommend several, it depends on what you’re looking for in one.”
“A man. I thought working for Kelter would give me his location, given that they’re business partners. I’ve had no luck.” Lez smirked. “Even a kitty gets impatient. I’m certain you’d be more than capable of learning it for me – probably with a mere phone call. Give me that and I’ll give you Kelter and whatever else I can.”
James’s eyebrow went up again. “It’s not someone under our protection is it?”
“Certainly not.”
“Well, then.” James smiled. “I believe we can work something out.”
Lez relaxed, legs spreading a bit wider as he let his weight fall more fully on the desktop. “Excellent.” Teeth flashed as he gave one of his quick, sly grins. “And here I always heard you were so difficult to work with. But I guess you could be lying.”
“Oh, I’m normally quite difficult. Though in my defense, they always start shooting at me first.” James took a step closer. “So I try to take full advantage when something easy falls into my lap.” Another step.
Lez reached out and snagged him by the tie, tugging James across the remaining space between them. He let go of the tie and let his finger trail down James’s chest. His breath was sweet as he tilted his head up to speak. “Is that what you’re going to do? Take full advantage?”
“Any objections?” James asked with a smirk. He let his own hands explore, feeling what was surprisingly developed muscle beneath worn denim, his other hand inching under the too-tight t-shirt to see what it might find there.
Lez wrapped wiry arms around James neck. “None. I’ve heard quite a bit about the infamous James Bond. I’d like to see how much of it is true.” He licked James’s lips, manner lazy and slow.
Like, James thought, laughing at himself, a cat enjoying a bowl of cream. He took over, kissing hard, deep. Lez tasted like he’d just finished his tea, and like he took it with lots of sugar and cream. “Kitty really does like cream.”
Lez laughed into his mouth and flicked his quick, pink tongue out to lick James’s lips again. “Mmm, yes. But only the finest.”
“Then I am surprised you did not seek me out sooner.”
no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 03:28 am (UTC)I did, babe. Will have'em too you by Sunday, 'less you need'em sooner.