Chapter Text
She was on the phone when he returned that night, having what sounded like a very official conversation. His mind went to Mallory, and he tensed as he considered that she may be receiving information regarding his conduct; rather like the headmaster calling his mother. Then he giggled silently to himself. He hadn’t set a foot wrong, so even if it were Mallory, he couldn’t possibly be implicated in some wrongdoing. For once.
Besides, Olivia Mansfield was not his mother. Far from it, even if she had liked to think so at some point. No. She was a woman. She just needed to be reminded of that now and again.
He smirked. He’d enjoyed her bossiness, her domineering behaviour. Perhaps she needed to cling onto her previous life as M. Perhaps she really was dominant by nature. But something told James that wasn’t the whole story.
He heard her hang up, then stepped into the room.
She looked crossly at him. “I take it you heard all of that?”
“Selective hearing,” he said casually. “I was deep in thought, as a matter of fact.”
“Well don’t think too deeply. You might sprain something.” Her eyes danced as she said it. He wanted to indulge in the banter but something about her attitude riled him too much.
“No,” he said dangerously. Her smile disappeared and a question formed in her eyes. He fixed her with a stern look. “You don’t get to do that,” he said. “No more reducing me to a playboy.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again, shifting on her feet. “I wasn’t…” she began.
“Yes you were,” he stated, a little less severely. He approached her, his expression softening a little. “No games. Not tonight. No playing. Can you do that?”
She was grinding her teeth, her face fixed bravely, but eyes wide. “Of course,” she said. It wasn’t convincing.
He stepped in closer but still gave her some distance, trying his best to exude harmlessness. “I just want to talk to you. Man to man.”
He grinned. She rolled her eyes and retreated to the bourbon, pouring them both a drink. “Very well,” she said. “Take a seat.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said graciously, overlooking her natural authority. It was rather charming, after all. He settled on her leather sofa and waited.
She handed him his drink and sat down opposite him in her favourite armchair, sitting matter-of-factly, legs uncrossed, learning forward intently with her elbows on her knees.
“Man to man,” she said, raising her glass to him and taking a good swig.
He smiled and did the same, before coming over quite self-conscious. He throat was mysteriously dry. He forced himself to look at her.
She was staring at him, her trademark frown dominating her face.
He swallowed with some difficulty. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I think you need some time off from playing your role as boss.”
Silence grew between them like a slow shockwave. He swallowed again, throat even dryer. “I think you’re clinging onto some old, and comfortable, behaviour that you believe defines you, when actually you have an opportunity to let it go.”
She remained silent and expressionless. He was certain she could hear his heart beating, because to him it was deafening. He inwardly cursed the fact he was so nervous about this.
“Not all of it,” he added quickly. “Much of you remains brave, valiant, and a natural authority. But your relations with others – specifically me, needn’t be restricted to those old patterns of behaviour.”
He was impressed at this point that she hadn’t said anything, though he couldn’t be sure that it wasn't because she was plotting his assassination.
He continued, feeling gradually more confident. “I don’t presume to know the woman you were in your private life,” he said gently. “But I’ve seen enough to know you have always been more than a leader. And I’d very much like to know the woman you are now, in your private life.”
His heart sank as the light caught the tears in her eyes. He stopped breathing for a moment as she spoke, voice laden.
“You do know her. Who do you think you’ve been sleeping with?” She sounded bitterly hurt.
“No!” he said suddenly. “That’s not what I meant. I know it’s you. I can see you… but it feels like a glimpse. Like you’re only showing me fragments of you.”
She blinked her tears away and scowled at the floor, biting her lip. She turned the glass in her hands.
He cleared his throat and took a shaky gulp followed by a deep breath.
“Olli,” he breathed. It was so tender she looked at him in wonder. “I feel like you’re hiding from me. That’s all.”
She was breathing fast. He could see her pulse in the rise and fall of her chest. She didn’t look sad, or angry, just quizzical and a touch wistful.
Her voiced cracked a little as she spoke. “No-one’s called me Olli in years. It’s mum or granny, or M, or ma’am, or Dame Olivia or Ms Mansfield.” Her eyes scrutinised him for a moment. “Did you know to do that?”
“No,” he said honestly. “It just felt right.”
She gazed at him, quite taken aback, before shaking her head and draining her glass. “It’s hard to know whether to believe you sometimes. You seem so keen to get to me. Should I believe you didn’t work out how…”
“I didn’t,” he said firmly, with a trace of impatience. She looked at him sheepishly.
“I know,” she conceded. “I know you're telling the truth. I’m sorry.”
He sighed. “Finally,” he said.
“Finally what?” she said shortly.
He shrugged. “I’m starting to feel like we’re on equal footing. That I am finally talking to the woman rather than the legend.”
“That’s fresh coming from you,” she snapped. “OO Legend. The irony that you of all people would demand realism.”
She stood and crossed the room, folding her arms across her chest. She kept her back to him for a moment.
James took a moment to register her words. Of course. She had every right to feel like that.
He stood. “What if I told you that I’ve been re-assigned? That without giving too much away, I will be based here in London for at least the next month.”
She turned. “Is it true?”
He blue eyes shone with sincerity. “Yes.”
She just looked at him, enjoying the truth of it. Her expression told him everything he needed to know.
“You know my job better than anyone,” he said. “You know what I’m capable of and what I’m best at. But you also know there’s a short life expectancy. It never bothered me before.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, slipping into her M voice, much to his amusement.
“Mallory and I have come to an agreement. My operations will be based predominantly in the UK for the time being, whilst still very much working for 6.”
“It was that mission, wasn’t it,” she asked softly. “Something happened to you.”
“I’m not retiring,” he said, voice clipped. “I could never do that. But without you to fake my test results, things are getting a little awkward.”
A marked petulance came over her and he chuckled. There she was – the mischievous girl inside the great woman.
“I didn’t fake them,” she said obstinately.
“No, you just lied outright.” His heart skipped as she came dangerously close to a pout.
He crossed the room to her, enjoying the upper hand. “So I’m local for the foreseeable future,” he said.
She looked up at him. “Good,” she breathed.