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It wasn’t unusual for M to spend the evening at his office. A quick trip to have a dinner at the Brunswick House’s restaurant, and he was back to MI6 headquarters, trying not to lose his patience while fixing the mess that one of his supposed best agents had made two weeks ago.
When he arrived at his office, he noted that his new assistant was not at the desk. Another reprimand in order for him, it seemed, and one step closer to another reassignement.
M entered his office, and immediately headed towards the hidden compartment where he put his Balvenie Double Wood whiskey. He was pouring himself a glass when he suddenly heard the sound of a glass clanging from behind him, and a silhouette appeared near the window.
M didn’t even try to restrain his annoyance. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Enjoying death. 007 reporting for duty, M”, a soft, feminine voice answered. The woman didn’t wait for an invitation, and sat down, taking a sip of the expensive whiskey.
“I knew it was too early to promote you…”, M snapped, and an arrogant smirk appeared on her thin lips.
“Well, I reckon double Os have a short life expectancy… So don’t worry, your mistake will be short lived”, she quipped.
“Miss Hooper, may I remind you that the operation in Pakistan was to be conducted discreetly? Nevertheless, you stormed into a foreign embassy, violating the only absolutely inviolable rule of international relations, and why? So you could kill a nobody. We wanted to question him, not to kill him!” M finished his speech with a growl, even more irritated by the way the agent seemed to stay unaffected by his invective, too focused by her drink.
A long moment of silence passed, and finally she replied. “You seem to forget another important fact about my mission. One of your agent nearly killed me, Myc-”
“Utter one more syllable and I’ll arrange so that he will finish the job. Now, out of my office!”, M ordered, and Molly obliged, eagerly closing the door behind her back.
At the desk outside, M’s new assistant was typing at the computer, and Molly couldn’t help but asking “Not enough excitement in Karachi for you, Mr Holmes?”
“I’ve been reassigned. Temporary suspension from field work”, the man answered, not sparing her a glance.
“Oh really, and why?”, she inquired, a cheeky grin on her pale face that seemed to light up the dark room.
This time, Sherlock raised his eyes from the screen and stared at her. “Oh, I don’t know exactly. Something to do with killing 007, apparently.”
“Well, you gave it your best shot…”, she conceded, leaning forward, so that he could take a sniff of her scent. Something citrusy, with a note of sweet (maybe lavender honey?), blended with her natural fragrance. He found it extremely alluring, and she knew it.
“Oh, that was hardly my best shot.” Sherlock stiffened, and distanced himself, focusing once again on the document he was typing.
“Well, I’m not sure I could survive your best…” Molly let a genuine smile grace her small mouth for one moment; it was too quick for him to see it, and when he allowed himself to look at her again, she was already strolling down the hall.
“The problem is, I’m not sure either of us could survive it, Miss Hooper…” He whispered, the words soon covered by his typing on the keyboard.