I have for many months been devising a fanfiction and unfortunatley EON stole a lot of ideas that I wthough would never see the cold light of what. Such as and this is not exhaustive, the return of Blofeld, personality, SPECTRE, QUANTUM, Mr White, Bond running off to get married again, and why not combine Q and Moneypenny. Even the death of M featured hevily in my story although mine was when he had to go get alarms installed in Africa.
Without further a do here is THE LIPS OF AN ANGEL 2 (title subhest to change)
Once upon a time, there was a gunbarrel.
KIND OF CRUEL
When you kill a man you do not talk to him during it. That is exactly what Bond felt like doing as he choked the last peice of breath out of the Mexican. How are the kids? It was like he looked into the man's eyes and could see a humanity he normally did not when it was just him and another man on the floor pounding away. He found himself in this situation a bit too often, at the end of a mission, legs spread and arms forward at the neck of someone who should die right now. Normally there was nothing. But right, right now, just this mometn, Carlos had a softness in his boys. His eyes were softening and it was as if the hardenend features were going backwards in time as Bond choked the life out of the man. He could see the boy behind the man, and suddenly Bond felt his own mortality, and the divide between life and death was a hard black line of mascara hiding the 007 signs of aging.
Bond took a deep breath, stole the mans wallet and placed a phone call.
"Hello M, happy halloween"
"Bond? I thought that you were handling candy at your chelsea flat?"
"Not this year. I emptired all my smart blood into the toilet (this is important later)
"Thats impossible, wait I just checked the smart blood files, why are you in Africa?"
"No time to explain. Lets just say, there's a naobob tree and it's got some forbidden branches. 007 out."
Moneypenny was Eve's dropping at the door. M cames bursting through the door and knocked her back onto her rear end.
"Just checking the carpet sir, you know don't mind me" she said. M grinned and poured himself a hot cup of water then soaked it in ginger and hot warm coffee in the tradition of Naval sailors sailing on the sea. His blue eyes glinted as he took a deep sip of the sludge and then he told Moneypenny all about what she already knew. "Bond is on the scent of something. He's infilitriated NAOBOB and is well on his way to earning his third stripe under my command. He hasn't even made it personal yet. I like it."
Moneypenny grinned so hard. "I know. It's time to call the cavalry."
"I call the shots around here Miss Moneypenny>"
"No I meant your annual local horse club they're wondering if you want to renew your mempership?"
M laughed. Of course not.
Bond was undercover in Africa, on the scent of NAOBOB and closing in close. If only he had a connection. A clue. A piece of something to keep going. A ribbon. A quote in the mouth of a villain with nothing to lose but dignity. Only a week earlier he had dispatched of Blofeld for good by leaving him on a bridge in the middle of London. Madelene was gone when she noticed he wasn't ready for her love, and as it turns out he was quite bored of her. This is the risk a man takes when he drives off with a woman, the quantum of solace sometimes hits the ejector seat and when no candle is left to burn , nobody can pride or provide themeselves on their romantic intentions any longer and the dull buzz of death begins to hum again. What are you doing to do.
Bond made a right turn down the road of Africa and stopped for a break.
"Do you have a restroom?"
"Yes", he asked.
He found a videotape in there was an ancient flute and a few other items. But mostly he found relief in the seat of a toilet. To rest those hamstrings and thighs and such on something other than the vintage discomfort of his Aston Martin from his predecssor.
Bond zipped up and went back outside. What? Someone was speeding off with his car! The dammit bastard! A saxophone was being played by a beautiful girl in the passenger seat as the vehicle spun dust up the backroads of Africa towards the pitching black trees of a sunset. Bond called a taxi but by the time they got there he could not give chase. This never happened to me before Bond thought as he grinned. Kind of cruel. A woman to disguise herself as a sunset, blind Bond with her beauty.
A symphony of sax streamed into the night as Britney Birthday gave it her all into the wood wind.
"And now a desert song, stupid boy, for your head to make it better..."
She placed a call. "Special Relations speaking". She softly played three notes and disconnected the call.
She wailed on it. Who was she? Bond thought. He had a name, a face, and that haunting sound. Who was the driver? Get a look at the driver? Did you manage to see who was driving? No. No. Not at all. All there was, a girl and Bond thought I can think of worse things. He picked up the videotape and brought it back to MI6 to put it on Q's home theater system for analysis.
"What do you want Bond? A sippy cup?"
"Does it do anything?"
"It tells the time"
"First I will break bread with you. Then I will break bad news. Third time I will break your face."