Stay still!" "If you keep moving I can't get the bullet!"
Snow; it was practically down James's frozen throat as he arouse up from the vast heap of white.
"Damn Russia and its bloody snow!"
Popping up alongside him was Q the young witted Quartermaster. His thick black hair tasseled with clumps of snow, and glasses fogged up from the heat of his breath in the chilled air.
"It's mid-December in Moscow, what were you expecting" told Bond sarcastically as he got to his feet and brushed off his slightly soaked pants.
They were stranded on the outskirts of a foreign country with no means of transportation. It was the evening, five o'clock to be exact, and the climate was most defiantly going to drop catastrophically as the night rolled by. Just brilliant.
"We missed our checkpoint" stated Q tapping his watch, ridding it of any excesses water. "We only have two day and twelve hours left to complete this mission, and already we're off track"
"I can't help how taken the Russians are with us" contorted Bond fixing the tie around his neck that had gone accuse.
Bond's eyes scanned the barren snow covered land, with hopes of finding shelter that obviously wasn't there. Looking from left to right, their situation became as clear as crystal. They'd have to follow the rail road tracks on foot for two miles east until they reached lodging of some kind.
"Get up, we better move now before night fall" instructed James, the secret agent in him Flooding out and taking control.
Q immediately hurried to his feet, but was sent back down onto the snow cover ground in a fit of pain. Quickly
the lab rat lifted up the hem of his coat looking for the area of distress.
It was more than noticeable. By his upper right thigh was a patch of pant leg that had been coded and smeared in what could only be blood.
The younger man looked up at Bond, his facial expressions protecting more emotions than any words.
Perhaps it hadn't been a perfect escape after all.
The wound didn't look horribly bad, but it was enough to puncture skin, and cause swelling, they'd have to remove the bullet whenever they got the chance.
Without warning Bond grabbed Q's arm and slung the young man's body over his broad back. Who would have thought he'd be carrying a bloody grown man over snow covered land; their situation reminded him of a poorly written, cheesy romance novel.
Shifting the extra weight on his back into a comfortable position, then the blond agent pressed onward into the endless blizzard.
So here they were two miles, four hours and one motel room later.
Bond had thrown Q into the small motel shower, turned on the tap, and tore off the Quartermaster's slacks, all while trying to avoid the thought 'cheesy romance novel'.
"Stay still!" "If you keep moving I can't get the bullet!"
Bond had to practically sit on the lab rat's leg the keep him from flailing it around as he made an incision with his pocket knife he had handy.
As 007 dug deeper, searching for that blasted bullet he became hyper aware of the younger man underneath him. The feel of his pale skin, the way he wrinkled his brow as his muscles screaming in protest to the blades movements.
"Be careful!" hissed Q through jagged breaths. Obviously he doubted Bond's medic skills. Even the Quartermaster was having trouble concealing his embarrassment behind his aloof, calm features It's not every day your plastered to a tiled floor and down to your briefs with a man looming over top you.
"Just stay still"
Q listened to Bond chuckle; it was a deep hum of a noise that settled his nerves. He hadn't realized t
It until now, but their position could be taken completely the wrong way, it sent an enormous blush traveling from either side of his cheeks.
"Here we are"
Q didn't meet Bond's eyes as he began to show him the silver casing of the bullet. He was far more concerned with the slight bulge beneath the thin material of his underwear.
He was hard.