Work Text:
A young man with two pairs of bizarre eyebrows in term of thickness was busy staring at a particular painting. The so-called particular painting was depicted an old British warship named HMS Temeraire in her ‘last breath’ according to the author. A tired sigh then escaped from the young man’s mouth, later a melancholic smile showed up on his lips.
Suddenly someone sat beside him and obviously he looked at that someone. One thing that quite certain for the young man was the new museum visitor who sat beside him was taller than him.
“That painting unfortunately doesn’t perfectly captured how majestic Temeraire was. She was grand, beautiful, and of course deadly.” Said young man tried to open up conversation with the man beside him without never left his eyes off of the painting.
“I don’t know about that; I never saw it with my own eyes.”
A small smile crept up onto the young man’s lips.
“I agree.”
Both of them fell to comfortable silence.
“This is my second time I visit this museum.” The older one of the two shared his confession, sounds strange but he had his own reason to say that.
“I hope you have great time here, as for I... I’m both enjoying it and kind of no... not hate this place. Hate is strong word. Maybe, have some aversion to this place is the correct term?”
Now the older one turned his head to face the strange young man.
“Oh really? My first visit was kind of irritating because I met someone who’s on the young side yet he’s pretty obnoxious. I really hope you’re not that kind of person, Mister.”
A small smile began spreading on the young man's lips, “I think, I have someone like that in my work line. Young, yet so noisy and worse of that person, he’s you can say, an overbearing one. But despite like that... My former enemies and families are the one who consider me annoying.”
“Former, huh? Sounds like your line of work isn’t safe.”
The young man clasped his hands and he then looked at older one’s forehead then he noticed a small scar on it, “sort of. Yet not life threatening unlike yours it seems...”
The older man has stubble on his lower area of the face. His eyes look tired despite how sharp his haircut and ash-coloured suit pressed neatly on body. The Blond young man with thick eyebrows stared at older man with a concerned look.
“Are you okay?”
A sudden question which made older man was taken aback, he could only blink few times, then opened up his mouth but ended up closed it again.
“I managed.” short reply and the older man broke his gaze to avoid his recent conversation partner.
The young man snorted out with undignified manner that shattered his formal and gentlemanly manners from before, “don’t lie, my Boy. I can see those tired eyes miles away in my lifetime. Not in small numbers too.”
He moved his sitting position from man-spreading to cross one leg over the other. His hand leaned on his chin to support the head then sharply stared from top to the bottom. But then, he only sighed tiredly and averted his gaze to go back to the painting again.
“Oh, so you’re a psychologist?”
“No, but I know a lot about this country history, you’re... James Bond, one of my important background players of this country to serve and protect. Remind me of that ship on that painting.”
Both of them kept silent, the older man in appearance who named James Bond could only stared suspiciously. To know his name without his famous introduction alarmed him. His fingers were twitching because his instinct flared up to defend. The young man beside Bond noticed those movements and once again, let out a tired sigh.
“I’m not your enemy, especially not to this country too. Too much hassle to kill one person when there are many people will replace you to serve this country, My Dear...”
Bond clasped his hand and then looked down to his shoes, “you said that I reminded you of painting in front of us. Why?”
A small smiled was shown while he looked at painting with melancholic smile, “Temeraire was... deadly, majestic, and famous too. But the important part was deadly and truly patriotic.”
A light snorted escaped Bond’s nose, “those assessment of yours about me are too romanticized myself, Sir.”
The young man moved his gaze to Bond again, “My name is Arthur Kirkland, it is pleasure to meet you,” he paused.
“-yet those are what defined you, for me personally. Just like her, one day you will leave your duty, Mr. Bond. And I have high hope if you can leave as majestic as her, to the last breath still clinging to serve this country, despite... maybe this country disappoints you one day.” Last words were expressed with low and sad tone by Arthur, a rare occurrence for the young man because how big his pride was.
Bond’s lips thinned upon listening Arthur’s rambled.
“... I’m too pathetically patriotic and loyal to be disappointed by this country.”
Arthur closed his eyes, “and I’m grateful for that one...”
Bond’s took a deep breath, he pondered at the moment to search for right words to reply an unusual young man unexplainable grateful. He once again stared at his foot, then moved to both of his hands.
“but that ship was remembered by everyone. Me? What I know either secrecy or betrayals. Quite the opposite, Mr. Kirkland.”
Arthur eyes were exhibiting a sad look. “Then I’m on the same boat, Mr. Bond... We’re on the same boat.”
Those two closed their bizarre conversation with a silent agreement and saw the famous painting in front of them without a word.