Double Act 4/4

“—ing me in the womb when he had the chance!”

Bond chuckled.  “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Danny stole a quick glance at the watch on the bedside table. Sooner than you think, if I know my brother, he thought to himself.

Danny shuffled his body without losing contact of the stretch of bulk and muscle sprawled on the bed beneath him to straddle him. He lowered his backside onto his stomach and splayed warm hands across his chest. “Richard…?” he said, sliding them forward, glancing over his pectorals, down his biceps to grasp his wrists and bring them up to pin lightly either side of his head.


He released his wrists and leaned back to take hold of something else as interested as the gaze with which Bond was currently gracing him. “How about I absorb something of you to remember you by…?”


“Richard Sterling’s room please,” Eve said curtly and with authority to the desk clerk while Alex fidgeted distractedly with his iPad next to her.

The clerk glanced up before resuming whatever he was pretending to do. “This is a five-star establishment, Madame. We’re not in the habit of giving out those details to people who just wander off the streets demanding…” His diatribe was cut short by the ID card Moneypenny slid across the marble topped surface separating them.

“I suggest you make an exception in this case.”


Bond was dozing between wake and sleep, his normal state of existence, ever aware of his surroundings, his company – his company currently in the midst of dressing himself.

“Going so soon?” he enquired. “Normally I’m the one who loves and leaves. You’re ruining my track record, Alex.”

Alex sat up from tying his shoelaces to lean over and give him a gloriously heated kiss. Bond recognised the move having performed it enough times himself through the course of his career. It was somewhat disarming though he found not at all unpleasant. For once, he felt relieved from the responsibility.

“Plane to catch,” Alex whispered against his lips, pulling back and grabbing the parka from the floor. He strode with confident steps towards the door and turned to flash him a smile. “It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mr Sterling.”

Bond allowed his own satisfied grin to speak for itself. The door closed and Bond closed his eyes to enjoy the afterglow. He had 30 minutes to shower before making his way to Six to meet the new Quartermaster. He thought back to how tense he’d been at the National Gallery, waiting.

Thank you, young Mr Holt.

His peaceful reverie was quickly chased away by the sharp knocking on this door. Bond glanced around the room and spotted the phone, sitting propped against a table lamp on the far side of the room opposite the bed. He hopped out and grabbed it, all the while, the knocking getting louder and more urgent.

“Alright, alright. Keep your panties on,” he mumbled, pulling on his briefs quickly. “Though as I recall you weren’t wearing—“

He swung open the door expecting his recently departed bedfellow who stood before him. 


It wasn’t. 


The conflicting images flowing through Bond’s head were having difficulty reconciling.

“Alex?” Different clothes, different hair, slightly different glasses and a scowl that definitely wasn’t there when he left.

Alex rolled his eyes towards Eve, who in his confusion, Bond had just noticed. “The arsehole gave him my name as well. I swear to God…” he huffed, pushing passed Bond. “Where is he?”

Bond shook his brain internally. “Wait, wait, wait… Back up a minute…!”

Alex swung round to face the agent and caught sight of the phone which he snatched from the loosely hanging limb.

“Eve?! What the hell is going on?” Bond groused.

Alex was looking at his phone, and the still frame footage Danny had obviously recorded during their tryst. Bastard, he thought, when I track him down there will be nothing but a few zeros and ones left to salvage. He pocketed the phone.

Moneypenny was enjoying the moment too much. She shrugged. “I’ll leave it to Q to explain, 007. Good luck out there in the field.”

And much as she wanted to stay and enjoy the display, the sight of Bond standing in his briefs and a fuming Head of Q Branch poised to tear him a new one as she closed the door would have to suffice for now.

Bond’s incredulous, “Q?!! You must be joking!” was just the icing on the cake…

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