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Just look at you, barely held together by your pills and your drink. Don’t forget my pathetic love of country.

James Bond [007] Roleplay blog Semi-selective | OC/AU/Crossover.

Message to plot

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Well, you gave it your best shot. That was hardly my best shot. I’m not sure I could survive your best. I doubt you’ll get the chance.

SKYFALL (2012) dir. Sam Mendes

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Reblog this if you like seeing me on your dash

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Skyfall

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Inspired by this post from Totallycorrectbondquotes

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I think this deserves a reblog

“Keep an eye out.. there could be more lurking in the shadows…”

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Somewhat pensively the ex-agent watched on as Q poured a precise measure into a single glass, the bottle set down thereafter almost in exclamation - or a challenge - to the finality in his refusal to share a drink.

"Stubborn as always Q," Bond quipped with a shake of his head. "You seem to have forgotten my - what was it M said in the report? ‘Dogged determination in the field of duty’..."

The agent pressed on, masking his amusement as he poured another measure into the second vessel. "So this evening you're going to share a drink with me even if I have to pour that bloody tea down the sink where it belongs."

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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What in the bloody hell was this mess? I am so angry that they thought this was the send off Bond deserved. At least I will always have Skyfall..

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"You're permanent fixture in that bloody basement and you know it."

The young quartermaster was of course painfully polite in his refusal to partake in a libation or two, a sentiment backed up by the placement of the solitary glass upon the table before the bemused 007.

James was of course stubborn to the end as Q was soon to be reminded. With extended arm the ex-agent moved to reach into the same cupboard and produce a second identical drinking vessel.

"Live a little, Q." Bond smirked, thrusting the bottle of vintage whiskey into the younger mans hand. "You can do the honours."

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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"Oh, you know me, Q. I can be very persuasive."

From what could only be described as a well-traveled leather satchel the agent goes on to produce a rare bottle of vintage Scottish whiskey; Dunglass, circa 1967.

"I don't expect you to appreciate this, however I would consider this a special occasion." James shoots an amused glance at the quartermaster as he places the bottle down, the brilliant amber liquid almost glowing from within its glass confines.

"The very fact I now know you live in an actual apartment and not the workshop at HQ is cause for a bloody celebration in of itself."

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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That shit-eating grin was spread across his face. He took great enjoyment in her sarcasm and he rather liked the notion that she might be aware of this fact

"And I thought you wanted to visit after-hours to cut out the middle-man," James replied smoothly, taking care to finish what remained of his drink before at last standing, his gait surprisingly well-balanced, all things considered.

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“I don’t doubt it,” Bond replies as he casually begins to pour himself yet another drink from the bank of bottles lining the ornate sideboard.

“I wasn’t aware we were working to a schedule?” A smile crosses his lips as the 00 agent slips into the chair at the head of the table. “You ought to loosen up, Croft..”

“Loosen up, like you?” Eyes boldly and briefly cast downwards just as he’s sitting down. Ah, yes. James was exceptionally loose this evening.

“Perhaps if you weren’t so intent on being inebriated, you might have remembered our utterly boring appointment in a certain someone’s office.” - She shrugs, sarcasm growing with every word. - ”You know, the one with the hidden door that…oh, I don’t know… might have something important behind it?”

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Perhaps James had mellowed in the years since his last 00 outing. There was a displaced feeling of warmth in knowing that such a basic gift could be cherished and enjoyed by someone in a meaningful manner. It seemed so grounded in normality, something that was always lacking from his life.

"And you've still got spots," James retorted in shrouded amusement, lastly breaking a smirk towards the younger man. "Why don't we have a drink, Q? For old times sake.."

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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"Bloody hell," James exclaimed, genuinely surprised by the appearance of the cups, a gift from many years prior. "So you weren't lying when you said you liked them.."

The agent pushed a smile at the younger man and propped himself back against the kitchen worktop, the steam from the tea hot against his face as he took a sip of the dark brew. "It’s been three years, Q,” James said after a moment of quiet. “I’m a ghost of the past to most..”

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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Several picture frames adorned the wall opposite which caught Bond's attention. Faces he, of course, didn't recognise, from years past, perhaps a graduation or even a family event, it wasn't obvious at first glance. "Of course," Bond replied, turning his attention towards the young quartermaster. "Do you ever drink, Q? Not a teetotaller are you?"

James felt the cats brush against his legs as they charged into the kitchen. It was a pleasant room, warm and welcoming. Organised shelves, everything in it's place. Exactly what he would expect of the young man. "I was in the area," Bond replied, sounding vague with regards to the situation.

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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The flat appeared to be small but tastefully decorated, dark walls and ambient light flooding into the hallway from the drawing-room beyond as two cats came charging through leaving the door slightly ajar. "It's been a long time, Q," James began, glancing down at the cats curiously circling at his feet.

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."

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"What makes you think I need something?" Bond asks, casting a sidelong glance at the young Quartermaster. A fleeting moment of tension breaking into mild amusement as Bond does as instructed and follows on behind, touching nothing - for the time being.

“Bond. And here I thought you were dead.”

"You should know better than to listen to rumour, Q.."