Chapter Text
Sent: 14 November 08:00
SUBJECT: Mision info
!! CLICK HERE URGANTLY !!
Importent mission info from Malery Pls read soonest
In this link pls click it right now
must Read for her Majesstys’ Secret service
here’s that link again !!
IT <[email protected]>
Sent: 14 November 09:13
SUBJECT: Spearphishing Exercise
Dear Mr. Bond,
The cybersecurity team at Mi6 recently conducted a spearphishing exercise designed to test the agency’s cybersecurity awareness. Unfortunately, you have been flagged in the system as failing this exercise, and must complete mandatory cybersecurity training within the next five (5) business days or you will be locked out of the Mi6 computer system. You may find your training module here.
We anticipate it will take you approximately 8.25 hours to complete.
Following are some common signs of suspicious emails. In the future, if you receive an email falling into this category, please do not open any attachments or click any links. Instead, you may forward the email as an attachment to [email protected].
Signs that an email is illegitimate:
- Grammar and spelling errors;
- A sense of urgency;
- A mismatched or spoofed email;
- A request for sensitive information the sender should already have or that is beyond their remit;
- An unfamiliar tone or greeting;
- And many more!
All the best,
Your Cybersecurity Team
Sent: 21 November 11:43
SUBJECT: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
007,
I have been informed by IT Services that you failed a recent spearfishing exercise, and have yet to complete your mandatory training.
For reasons beyond me, M has forbidden me from simply locking you out of our system indefinitely, and so it falls upon me to request that you do said training within a further three (3) days or risk serious administrative consequences.
Kind regards,
Q
PS — It is not in the least bit credible that you actually fell for that email. It was from “mi6.com,” for goodness’ sake. I can only conclude that either the pain medications from your recent broken leg are clouding your judgment, or that you are maliciously bored from being on desk duty pending medical clearance to return to the field. If the latter, please refrain from taking it out on IT Services. They have been stretched very thin by Tanner’s recent fiasco with the copiers.
Sent: 25 November 14:01
SUBJECT: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
007,
I am again informed that it has been four (4) days and you still have not completed your mandatory cybersecurity training. Please do so immediately.
Regards,
Q
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 25 November 14:04
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Dear Q,
I have learnt my lesson and will not be clicking any links for the foreseeable future, including the ostensible “training” link sent by “IT Services.” If a training is in fact required, I assume there is an analog version with which I can be provided.
Sincerely,
James Bond
Sent: 25 November 14:14
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
007,
There is no analog version. It is a cybersecurity training. You may click the link to access the module.
Regards,
Q
PS — There’s really no need to sign your emails with your first and last name. I am quite aware of who you are.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 25 November 14:23
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Dear Q,
Nice try.
Maybe I’ll ask Tanner to print it for me.
Sincerely,
James Bond
PS — Quite aware, eh? ;)
Sent: 26 November 09:52
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Don’t you dare. Tanner has been specifically banned from using printers for the foreseeable future, as you are well aware.
Just click the link, James.
PS — And never use the winking emoji again, it’s unbefitting of your advanced age.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 26 November 09:55
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Dear Q,
I will not click the link.
I don’t know if you’re aware, but in addition to my broken leg, I scraped my hands terribly on my recent mission, on account of punching through a glass window in service to my country. Clicking through an electronic training for 8.25 hours sounds like it might strain my recovery, and no one wants that, least of all M.
Perhaps you could come by medical and conduct my training in person. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m still in traction. As a result of the aforementioned service to my country.
Sincerely,
James Bond
PS — I’ll show you advanced age.
Sent: 26 November 10:38
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
This is completely absurd, 007, and you know it. Your hands are fine, or you wouldn’t be emailing me with such frankly imposing frequency.
But fine. I’ll stop by around the lunch hour and then we can finally put this to rest.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 26 November 10:40
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Dear Q,
My sincere thanks. I look forward to receiving your close, personal training in a more intimate setting.
Sincerely,
James Bond
Sent: 26 November 10:41
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Oh my God.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 26 November 10:42
SUBJECT: Re: Your Cybersecurity Awareness Training
Dear Q,
Is that what everyone says when you show them your module?
;)
James Bond
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 27 November 08:15
SUBJECT: training
Dear Q,
Thank you for coming by my room yesterday. At the risk of sounding sentimental, and though I know you will no doubt disbelieve me, I’ve missed seeing you.
On a less sentimental note, I greatly appreciated your time in conducting my cybersecurity awareness training. The most interesting part was, by far, your brief lesson on the history of British computing, though I suspect that was not in IT Services’ electronic module. I could have done with fewer direct citations to the relevant regulations on information technology systems for the civilian and military services, but needs must, I suppose.
In that regard, I have remembered that the initial email from IT Services informed me that this training would be 8.25 hours. As you were only with me for .75 hours (rounded up), I believe I need another 7.5 hours in order to be considered compliant with the training requirements. When can you stop by again to remedy this?
Sincerely,
James
Sent: 27 November 08:44
SUBJECT: Re: training
My salary is simply not high enough, nor indeed could it ever be, to adequately compensate me for spending another 7.5 hours conducting in-person cybersecurity training for you. I’ve already cleared you in the system.
You are evidently still bored, as evidenced by both your latest email and the fact that you put up with my extensive digression on Alan Turing yesterday (for which you have my apologies). As it happens, I made rather too much curry last night—if you like, I can pop by medical and bring you some for lunch, if only to keep you from further abusing the agency’s computer network by clicking on more suspicious links.
Q
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 27 November 09:04
SUBJECT: Re: training
Dear Q,
As it happens, I’m a great admirer of Turing. He was a genius and a hero and was treated abominably, as of course you know.
I’d be happy to hear more of your thoughts on him, or indeed on any other matter, at any time.
I’m also a great admirer of that lovely blush you get when you think you’ve digressed for too long. You may digress as much as you like with me.
Please do bring by your curry.
Sincerely,
James
Sent: 27 November 11:11
SUBJECT: Re: training
You are an insufferable flirt.
I’ll be by shortly with your curry.
Sent: 30 November 08:46
SUBJECT: enchiladas
James, I was so sorry to hear that you’re likely to be stuck in traction for another week and a half. It would be a lot for anyone, but I imagine especially so for someone as used to being in constant motion as you.
I can’t do anything about the leg, but I made a pan of enchiladas at the weekend, and I’m happy to share if you’re tired of the food in medical. Just let me know.
Q
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 30 November 08:50
SUBJECT: Re: enchiladas
You’re an angel. I’d kill for some enchiladas. Where on earth did you learn to make them?
And thank you for the condolences. The worst part is the itching under the cast. I’d take my own leg off if I had a hacksaw handy. Have you got anything that might do the trick down in Q Branch?
James
Sent: 30 November 09:10
SUBJECT: Re: enchiladas
I’ve got Mexican heritage, actually, on my mother’s side. Though I didn’t learn from her—she’s a terrible cook. At least she was when I knew her; we don’t speak anymore.
Anyway, I took a cooking course when I started at Mi6. It was my present to myself once I had a regular salary. But enchiladas are pretty easy—the hardest part is finding the right chiles for the sauce.
You absolutely may not have any gadgets from Q Branch, thank you. Setting aside the risk to your leg, I’m certain I would never see whatever I leant you ever again, and I haven’t got any room in my budget for any more “misplaced” gear.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 30 November 09:16
SUBJECT: Re: enchiladas
While I note with interest your apparent concern (and, dare I say, regard) for my legs, on the rest of it, you injure me with your assumption. I would certainly return your gear in pristine condition. There are no Komodo dragons in medical, for a start.
James
PS — I hope you know this already, and you certainly don’t need me to tell you, but it’s your mother’s loss. You are exceptional, Q, and anyone who doesn’t want to know you is a fool.
Sent: 30 November 10:22
SUBJECT: Re: enchiladas
Thank you, James. That is very kind of you to say.
I’ll see you at noon with our lunch.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 1 December 09:53
SUBJECT: I’ve been dreaming…
..about those enchiladas. You haven’t got any leftovers you could bring by, have you?
Sent: 1 December 10:02
SUBJECT: Re: I’ve been dreaming…
I wish I had. Alas, I didn’t even manage to cook anything for myself last night (you may have heard of the mishap in Prague). I’m sorry to disappoint.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 1 December 10:04
SUBJECT: Re: I’ve been dreaming…
While the enchiladas were delicious, it’s actually the company I was angling for, if you’re not too busy cleaning up 005’s mess. (Maybe this will motivate M to take me off medical leave a little sooner?)
Sent: 1 December 10:06
SUBJECT: Re: I’ve been dreaming…
I believe M’s exact words were, “Ah, well. At least it wasn’t 007 in the field. It could have been that much worse.”
And I can’t imagine why you want my company, but if you do, then you may have it.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 1 December 10:10
SUBJECT: Re: I’ve been dreaming…
Can you really not think of a single reason?
And here I thought you worked at an intelligence agency.
Come when you can, Q. I’ll be here waiting.
Sent: 1 December 23:17
SUBJECT: Re: I’ve been dreaming…
Thank you for the company at lunch, James. I’m sure you must be aware of how much I like talking to you, too, but just in case, well—now you know.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 09:59
SUBJECT: u up?
Wyd? Want to stop by? tysm x
Sent: 8 December 10:03
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
Why in God’s name are you talking like that? Were you kidnapped? Is this a cry for help?
Setting aside the fact that I most certainly am up, given that it is 10:00 in the morning, I can’t come by, as 004 is currently in the process of trying to get herself blown up.
Regrets,
Q
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 10:05
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
I’m not “talking” like anything. I’m emailing. And Moneypenny taught me. She, at least, visits me on a regular basis.
Come by when you can, ttyl ::sad face emoji:: ::doctor emoji:: ::pineapple emoji:: x
Sent: 8 December 10:17
SUBJECT: Why must you torment me?
Why in God’s name would you teach 007 text speak from the 2010s? Do you want me to suffer?
Eve Moneypenny <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 10:17
AUTOMATIC REPLY
I am unexpectedly out of the office. I will not respond to your email upon my return x
Sent: 8 December 10:19
SUBJECT: re: Automatic Reply
You are not out of the office, I just saw you walk by.
Eve Moneypenny <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 10:19
AUTOMATIC REPLY
I am too x
Sent: 8 December 11:00
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
I visit you on a regular basis, James. We had lunch together every day last week, in case you’ve forgotten.
And what in the world is the pineapple emoji supposed to mean?
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 11:04
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
I’ll concede that you do, occasionally, have lunch with me. But a lot can happen in 24 hours, so, you know, you might come by more often. If you wanted to.
And the pineapple emoji was an accident. It was meant to be a sandwich emoji x
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 14:22
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
Thank you for the sandwich xxx
Sent: 8 December 16:30
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
You’re very welcome. And for the record, you only need one ‘x.’
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 8 December 18:51
SUBJECT: Re: u up?
Oh, I don’t know about that, Q. For you, I think I might need all three.
James xxx
Sent: 13 December 17:17
SUBJECT: your news!
James! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me at lunch that you’re out of traction tomorrow and starting physical therapy. That’s wonderful news.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 13 December 19:08
SUBJECT: Re: your news!
This will sound silly, but the truth is I couldn’t bring myself to tell you when I saw you today. I’ll be ecstatic to be out of traction, but I’ve enjoyed our lunches and I don’t want them to end.
This is presumptuous of me, but I’ll still be in the building during the week, even if I’m not in the health unit. I’ll be on desk duty another few weeks until physical therapy is done and medical clears me. If you’d like to keep eating together, I’ll be around.
Sent: 13 December 20:08
SUBJECT: Re: your news!
It doesn’t sound silly at all. I would miss our lunches, too. So—let’s not. Miss them, that is. We can always eat in Q Branch, if you like.
Also, once you’re back living at your flat, let me know if you ever need a lift to or from work. I can’t imagine you can drive, or take the tube, easily, even once the cast is completely off.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 15 December 09:00
SUBJECT:
I know I said it more than once on the ride in, but it bears saying again.
I cannot believe you drive a Ford Fiesta.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 19 December 22:33
SUBJECT: something to tell you
Dear Q,
I could have taken any number of chances to tell you this at lunch today, but something always held me back. It feels right to tell you this way, so I can try to get my words right, the way I’d most like to say them. You might think, given my profession, that I’d prefer to say everything in person, but it’s hard for me too, sometimes, especially when it matters so much. I’m not used to being forthright.
I can imagine you reading this, though. If you’re not asleep already, maybe you’re sitting in a comfortable chair in some cozy pajamas, with those cats I’ve heard so much about curled up on your lap. Maybe you even have a cup of tea—chamomile, to be sure. No Earl Grey for you given the late hour.
What I want to tell you—what I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now—is that I’ve decided to retire from the field. I wanted to tell you, specifically, before you heard it from anyone else, and nothing keeps for long at Mi6.
I had a lot of time to think, while I was in traction. I didn’t think I was going to live, you see, at the end of that last mission. I didn’t think I’d survive the jump from that building, not at that height, and I knew that even if I did, I’d be hurt badly, probably too badly to get away from anyone still chasing me. But I jumped anyway, because it was my only chance, and the last thing that ran through my head before I hit the ground was that I was glad it was your voice in my ear, at the end, no matter how selfish that might be.
But it wasn’t the end. You found me, as you always do, and when I woke up with my leg shattered and my ribs in an uncertain state and my hands torn up with shards of glass, all I could think about was how I didn’t want that miracle to be for nothing. And then I thought about it some more while I was in medical for so long, thought about it methodically this time. I went through all the many ways I’m likely to go absolutely mad in retirement, and still it seemed like the better option. Like a better option than death. You might roll your eyes at me, at how obvious that is, but it wasn’t always obvious for me. Not in this line of work. Not in this world.
But I decided I want to live, and every lunch I’ve had with you since then has reminded me of that. I hope we can continue to have our lunches, by the way. I’m not going far—M has decided, in what is likely the sign of impending dementia or perhaps some sort of hemorrhagic brain fever, that I’d be useful teaching new recruits. Leaving aside for now whatever scars I may leave on their young minds, it seemed like something I might at least want to try. And so I shall.
I’ve rambled at you long enough, but I did want you to know. You’re the only one I’ve told so far, after M. I find you’re the only one that really matters.
Yours,
James
Sent: 19 December 23:59
SUBJECT: Re: something to tell you
Dear James,
I’m honored that I’m the one you wanted to tell, truly.
And I’m so happy for you. I’m worried it seems trite, written out like that, but I don’t say it lightly. I’m not much given to happiness, myself. I don’t say that to be maudlin, although often, as you have probably noticed, I am that. I’ve been fortunate to have many, many sources of joy in my life, and your friendship is one of them. But, unlike that joy, happiness has always seemed so light, and thus a bit far out of my reach. I’m not a light person, however much I might try.
This makes me happy, though. It makes me feel light, in no small part because I have always wanted you to live. I want all my agents to live, of course, and I know how arrogant it may seem to call them mine. But your survival in particular is something I have wanted desperately.
I just felt—I don’t know how to say this properly.
I just felt like you deserved it. I have felt that way ever since our first mission together. I never told you this, but I would sometimes picture you retiring, would try to imagine you walking into the sunset (or more likely driving into it, in some gaudy and impractical car). I had a therapist once who had me try to visualize things as a step toward making them actually happen, and though I don’t suppose it works like that when you’re imagining someone else’s life, I would do that with you, whenever you were off on a particularly dangerous mission, or when you returned home even more battered than usual. I would think of you, doing all the things I thought you might enjoy. I have wanted a long life for you, because you have always seemed so very alive to me.
Oh dear. I hadn’t realized how creepy this might seem until just now. I shall probably regret this quite a bit in the morning.
Anyway, you were right about the comfy chair, the cat, and the pajamas, though wrong about my before-bed drink. You’re not allowed to laugh, but when I want a treat, I have cocoa. It’s comforting. So that’s what I was drinking when I saw your email come in.
Speaking of drinking, I’d like to take you to celebrate your retirement, if it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition. Nowhere too fancy, mind; none of those molecular gastronomy-type places where you have to be a on a weeks-long waitlist and show up in a three-piece suit. But there’s a lovely Indonesian place near my flat that makes an incredible gado-gado, and it’s bring your own beer or wine. I’ll bring something suitably pretentious for the occasion, and then I can appall you by pouring it into the restaurant’s water glasses.
And you may wear a three-piece suit in any event. I dare say it would be a service to the people of the greater London area if you did.
Yours,
Q
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 20 December 06:14
SUBJECT: Re: something to tell you
Don’t you dare regret anything this morning, you lovely, wonderful man.
And I will take you up on your offer of dinner, thank you, and Indonesian sounds delightful. But—ah—I’ll bring the wine, shall I?
Gareth Mallory <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:30
SUBJECT: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
All,
I know we are all very excited about the upcoming holiday, but I would remiss if I didn’t ask you to please save the date for a very special retirement party in the New Year.
Please join your colleagues here at Mi6 on 7th January at 16:00h to help us wish James Bond a very happy retirement. We’ll be in the Smith-Cumming Ballroom, and I’m told there will be martinis.
All the best,
M
William Tanner <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:43
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
James, what’s this, mate? I can’t believe it! It seems I’m the last to know.
Still, I’d like to toast you sooner rather than later. Shall we get a pint after work? My shout.
Loretta Minor <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:44
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
Bill, I don’t know if you noticed, but you’ve just replied all to the entire agency.
William Tanner <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:46
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
I hadn’t noticed, Loretta, thank you. My apologies.
Loretta Minor <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:48
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
You’ve just done it again, Bill.
Fred St. John <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:50
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
LOL. The Cumming Ballroom.
Gareth Mallory <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:52
SUBJECT: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
All,
Please do refrain from replying all.
Fred, please report to HR.
All the best,
M
Loretta Minor <[email protected]>
Sent: 21 December 08:53
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
But you’ve just replied all as well, Sir.
IT <[email protected]>
To:
BCC: [email protected]
Sent: 21 December 08:57
SUBJECT: Re: Save the Date: Retirement Party for 007
All,
As you may recall from your annual cyberawareness trainings, this has been what is commonly known as an “email storm,” which is caused when a number of people “reply all” to a chain with a wide number of recipients. Email storms can have real consequences for both the functionality and the security of agency email systems.
In the future, email storms can be prevented by double- and triple-checking your recipient before responding, and making sure to limit distribution accordingly.
In the unfortunate event of an email storm, the storm can be stopped by moving all recipients to BCC, as we have just done here.
All the best,
Your Cybersecurity Team
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 22 December 22:01
SUBJECT: I thought I’d ask
Q,
I know this is last minute, and rather cheeky of me, but have you got any plans for the holiday? I know you don’t talk to your mum, but I wasn’t sure if you have other family you might be going to see.
No obligation, of course, but if you’re free, I thought maybe we could spend it together. We don’t need to cook a roast or anything quite so traditional, either. In fact, I rather fancy trying those enchiladas again.
James
Sent: 22 December 22:18
SUBJECT: Re: I thought I’d ask
James,
I’d love to.
I rather arrogantly assumed you’d snuck a look through my personnel file by now, but since it seems you haven’t, no, I don’t have any family. I’m an only child. My dad passed when I was young, and my mum kicked me out of the house when I was 12, when she caught me snogging another lad. There were some rough years after that, which I suppose is a story for another time, but I ended up here, and so there’s something of a happy ending after all.
Enchiladas for Christmas dinner sounds lovely. Let’s meet at mine, shall we? You can finally meet the cats.
I’ll see you soon.
Q
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 26 December 06:47
SUBJECT: pushing my luck
Q,
I know I’ve only just seen you, but I wanted you to know that yesterday with you was the best Christmas I’ve had in ages. Maybe even the best I’ve had, ever.
Dinner was so delicious that it more than made up for all the episodes of Star Trek that you made me watch, and I will admit to being fond of the cats, even though I can’t seem to get their hair out of my jacket.
But the main reason it was so lovely was because of you, Q. Just you.
I know I may be pushing my luck, but are you free on New Year’s Eve? The bedroom in my flat has a wonderful view of the fireworks.
PS — I know that sounds like a come on, but it’s not a come on.
PPS — Unless—is there a chance that you’d like it to be? Because if you would, I would very much like that, too.
PPPS — Please give May and Mercury a pat from me. They really are delightful, for cats.
Sent: 26 December 08:51
SUBJECT: Re: pushing my luck
James,
It’s possible that was the best Christmas I’ve ever had, either.
I would love to spend New Year’s Eve with you.
It’s also possible that, potentially, I might be amenable to that terrible line being a come on. You might have assumed that from the way I put my head on your shoulder while we were watching Star Trek (the very best of shows), but then again, you never were the most observant of the 00s. (It’s all right, you have other qualities.)
Yours,
Q
PS—of course May and Mercury are delightful. You needn’t sound so surprised.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 1 January 05:16
SUBJECT: please read
My darling Q,
Forgive me for sending this to your work email, but your phone is turned off, and I don’t know how else to reach you. I trust you’ll know how to delete this from the Mi6 email server as if it never existed, because you’re the cleverest man, and the best Quartermaster, that I’ve ever known. All I ask is that you read what I have to say first.
I woke up early this morning and you were gone. You’d even smoothed down the sheets on your side of the bed before you left, which is the only thing that kept me from going into a panic that something had happened to you, that somehow you’d been taken from me.
I’ve gone over and over every detail of last night in my head, trying to see where I might have done something wrong, something to drive you away. At the risk of seeming like an arrogant bastard, or at least an obtuse one, I can’t think of anything at all. To me, last night was everything.
The only thing that I can guess is that maybe, in the early hours of the morning, something made you doubt us—doubt me—and you didn’t want to stay to find out if your doubts were well-placed. And what I’m about to say is a risk, because if you actually left because you want something casual, or because last night didn’t mean anything to you, then this is only going to drive you even further away, but I’ve got to chance it, because you’re worth every risk to me.
So here we go:
I adore you, Q. I adore everything about you, from the top of that exceedingly willful, gorgeous mop of hair I have now, at last, run my fingers through, to the tips of your toes, which are always cold, even in your favorite argyle socks. You have been one of the wonders of the world to me ever since that first day in the National Gallery when you spoke to me about the inevitability of time, and you always will be, whatever happens between us.
And I would very much like something to happen between us, even beyond the miracle that was having you in my bed last night. You asked me, after, if it was always that good for me, and I fumbled the question, because the answer scared me. I wish, now, that I’d told you the full truth:
No, Q, it’s not always that good. It’s never been that good for me, because it’s never been you before. Every detail of how we were together is imprinted in my mind, from how sweet your lips tasted when I finally kissed you for the first time, to the way you felt, moving in my arms.
I want that forever, but if I can’t have that, I will want you however I can have you. I won’t say that I retired for you, because it was my choice, and you are not in any way responsible for what I’ve freely decided, nor are you under any obligation to me because of it. When I made my decision, I still had no idea how you might feel about me, though I admit I sometimes dared to hope. But I will say that I retired, in part, because you made me see a future that could be worth having. You made me want again—made me want something for myself, something that was only mine, beyond Queen and country and even beyond making the world a better and safer place for everyone to live in. You made me want to make a world that I could live in, and you made me want to live in it with you.
You are my sunset, Q. You are my future, and my tropical beach, and my gaudy (but worth it, you must admit), impractical car. You are my everything. I would be yours, too, if you would let me.
Love,
Your James
PS—It’s still dark, as I write this, and someone is buzzing at my door. I want it to be you, coming back. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. If it isn’t, though, I’ll ask you just in case. Please come back to me.
Sent: 1 January 15:52
SUBJECT: my James
I’ve already deleted your email from this morning from the Mi6 server as requested, and if I saved a screenshot for myself first, that is between me and my god, whoever She may turn out to be. This one should delete itself, too, after you’ve read it, so don’t linger on it too long or you won’t make it to the end.
I’m watching you sleep, now. And it’s possible I’m being creepy again, but this is my miracle: your head in my lap as I stroke your hair, our bodies in your bed, as warm as if I’d never left last night.
I wish I’d never left, James. And I’ve asked you to forgive me a hundred times already, and you’ve said that you have, because you are better than I deserve. But I’m asking you again, here, because, like you, there are some things that are easier for me to say when I’m not looking you in the eye.
So: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left like that. You’re right that I was scared. You were an impossible dream for so long that I didn’t dare believe it, even when it seemed like it might be coming true. You always left with the beautiful woman, James, and yes, you left in the gaudy car. You never left with me. I never dared hope that you would leave with me. I thought, maybe, that the best I could hope for was being the voice in your ear, the quiet and competent colleague that would always get you home, even (and maybe especially) when you didn’t seem particularly concerned yourself about making it there. I told myself that could be enough. And then you failed that fucking spearphishing exercise, and after less than an hour of sitting in the medical unit feeding you my curry I knew I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. It would never be enough, but I would take it anyway. I would have taken whatever you gave me, no matter the cost to myself.
And now we’re here.
I couldn’t get very far, you see. I wasn’t gone an hour before I was back buzzing to be let into your flat again. I’ve never thought of myself as a particularly brave man, except when I’ve had no other choice. But you make me want to be. You make me want to try. And something in you pulled something in me back to your door, and I suspect now it always will.
I want forever with you, too, James. And I’m going to tell you again, as soon as you wake up.
Love,
Your Q
Sent: 7 January 21:01
SUBJECT: happy retirement, darling
If you’ve quite finished toasting every past and future head of Mi6, the Queen, the founder of Aston Martin, and “some, but not all (if I’m honest, really just one or two) members of the FVEY intelligence community” with Moneypenny and Tanner, I’d like to take you home now. I thought maybe we could continue this celebration in private.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 7 January 21:10
SUBJECT: Re: happy retirement, darling
I thought you’d never ask.
Come and take me home, love.
James xxx
Sent: 12 February 08:00
SUBJECT: upcomin travel
hEllo Mr or Ms or Mx James BOND:
Please click this link link link for yor travel ITINERARY!!!
please it’s got your tickets in it so don’t WAIt click now!!!!
Or you won’t get your TICKETYS
linked for your clicking pleasure once AGAIN !!
Sent: 12 February 10:17
SUBJECT: You have GOT to be kidding me
I cannot believe you just clicked that link.
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 12 February 13:01
SUBJECT: Re: You have GOT to be kidding me
Oh dear. It would appear I need more cybersecurity awareness training. Perhaps more one-on-one sessions.
Sent: 12 February 15:08
SUBJECT: Re: You have GOT to be kidding me
You’re an idiot.
…Come by mine after work x
James Bond <[email protected]>
Sent: 12 February 15:09
SUBJECT: Re: You have GOT to be kidding me
Wouldn’t miss it for the world x