553 replies to this topic

[volante]

Struggling a bit to get 'All The Trimmings' done - ironically, I've got the latter half of the story written, it's the first half that's giving me a problem.

Keep at it my friend; Christmas comes but once a year. We deserve something good!

[terminus]

Thanks, V!

I'll keep scribbling away - hoping that it comes to me in a flurry of typing like the redraft of the first Alec North short did.

[chrisno1]

Heh-heh-heh....

Honed to a lethal edge...

Also, as the story has ran on longer to the point where I had to cut it off, there will be a second part to tie it up before the New Year.

Goddamn, Bryce, how long is it? We only have 12 Days of Christmas!

[Bryce (003)]

It's complete but ran 16 pages.

There is more that's outlined, but I decided to stop where I did. Hence, I'll be delivering the follow up for the New Year.

Still working on what to title it. It won't be as long, but you never know. Again, this will be more narrative, but count on some action and a few more bits of 003's life and history beyond Her Majesty's Secret Service. One new character has been revealed though and they'll change how you view Bryce....For the better I hope.

As to the rest of the contributions by those present, keep at it's best as best you can. I'm certain everyone will bring their "A Game".

Let's all give CBn what it deserves. Laughs and cheers, some darkness along with some gratuitous sex and violence in the spirit of Fleming, Amis, Gardner, Benson, Faulks, Westbrook, Eon and the world of Bond....James Bond.

To quote Sir Winston - "THIS will be our finest hour."

*adds splash of scotch to Jamaican Mountain Blue Roast and continues proofing*

See you all on at noon on Friday - My time. Twenty Hundred Hours GMT.

Cheers!

- 003

[tdalton]

It's complete but ran 16 pages.

There is more that's outlined, but I decided to stop where I did. Hence, I'll be delivering the follow up for the New Year.

Still working on what to title it. It won't be as long, but you never know. Again, this will be more narrative, but count on some action and a few more bits of 003's life and history beyond Her Majesty's Secret Service. One new character has be revealed though and they'll change how you view Bryce....For the better I hope.

As to the rest of the contributions by those present, keep at it as best you can. I'm certain everyone will bring their "A Game".

Let's all give CBn what it deserves. Laughs and cheers, some darkness along with some gratuitous sex and violence in the spirit of Fleming, Amis, Gardner, Benson, Faulks, Westbrook, Eon and the world of Bond....James Bond.

To quote Sir Winston - "THIS will be our finest hour."

*adds splash of scotch to Jamaican Mountain Blue Roast and continues proofing*

See you all on at noon on Friday - My time. Twenty Hundred Hours GMT.

Cheers!

- 003

Looking forward to it.

Like yours, mine's probably going to arrive in two parts, as there will be two very distinct segments that comprise the story. The overall story focuses on Bond and Mary Goodnight (Agent 008) on a joint mission together, with the first part focusing more on Goodnight and with Bond being more of the star of the second part. I don't know if it's going to turn out particularly well (I'm not really happy with it at all right now, but thankfully there's still a bit of time), but the first part will be posted on Christmas and hopefully the second part sometime before New Years.

[terminus]

Can't wait to see it, tdalton!

[Harry Fawkes]

Well, we all seem to be encountering the same old problems that all writers often encounter. Don't worry though, I am sure from all your past works that what you actually come up with in the end will be bloody worth reading. All writers are perfectionists and all that so live with your curse and stick in there.

I've been through all your posts and am happy that we're going to see some fine work by some very talented people. And that, as I have a habit of saying, is a fact.

Like many of you, I am going to be posting in two parts. Got three chapters ready now and will probably proof read it all in the coming days before Christmas.

Yeah, i know the feeling about the direction we take, or try to that is, when it comes to writing a story. You have it all in your mind and all that but when you sit down and put it all on paper it takes a life and direction of its own somewhat. You end up asking yourself: Is this what I wanted to write? Is this the story that was aching to get out of my mind? I can hardly recognize it. The idea is there, true, but I wanted it to be....Well I'm sure you all understand what I'm trying to say.

At the end of the day, the point is to write and enjoy what end product comes to life. Yeah, we all say we can do better but what the heck. I'm sure even Fleming said that when he finished his stuff.


So, where am I with Charm the Devil?

It is moving on beautifully in my most humble opinion. Beautifully because I like what I'm doing and where I've gone with Mister Bond this time. There's a lot of stuff I thought I didn't have inside me when it came to writing another Fan Fic story and choosing what I'm writing now was the best thing to hit me since God only knows.

I'm going to start with a couple of teasers in the next few days, just to build my story up a bit. Oh, and I've decided to post on the main Fan Fic area where I usually post my stories. It's probably too long for this thread. I think someone mentioned it earlier on and I agree. That way perhaps more CBn readers might stumble across it and pay it a glance. After all, a writer does write to be read, no? As for collecting them, you can still print them and put all the Christmas stories together in one bind. I will, having said that, try and put a link on this page.

So, finally, till I pop in again, take care and keep on writing so this Christmas will be a bomb (or should that read a Bond) of a day!

Harry Fawkes

[chrisno1]

Ye Gods!
Two parts, three chapters!
I thought I was pushing the boat at 3000 words
I can't promise any gratuitous sex and violence (it is Christmas!) but I might provide a little festive cheer...
In fairness I think I've only brought my 'B' game to Past Times, but I enjoyed the project and it's a nicely written ditty.
I look forward to a busy Christmas Eve... got a turkey to stuff too as well as read

[MHazard]

It's longer than I anticipated, has at least four short chapters, is as yet untitled and I have a love/hate relationship with it. But its the best I can do for a Bond Christmas story and it will be posted, with appropriate announcement, on the main thread by Christmas. I've got something, but I don't know what to make of it: ripping yarn? dark meditation, channeling ghost of Ian Fleming? We'll see. I can say this: the girl's a blonde, the villain's a killer with a backstory, the friend is wise and the weather outside is frightful.

[terminus]

I am so excited to read everyone's stories

[MHazard]

Draft is done. Still don't know what I have or have a title. But it will be posted by Christmas and the story runs to the New Year.

[terminus]

A tentative draft of 'All The Trimmings' is with one of my fellow posters here to give me his thoughts - it's not so much a story on its own, as an epilogue to the previous tale. A bit more of a character piece exploring the North character's life - though I expect the third story, 'What You Wish For' will be a bit more traditional.

[Bryce (003)]

Great news on all fronts it seems.

Terminus - Looking forward to the rest. There's a brief mention of you which ties into my bit and your story.

Harry - You're in at the start. You'll love it.

Athena, Loelila, The Admiral and Gala - in a very present role as the new 005 - all have their parts. Matt and Joyce get a mention as well.

Bring on the holidays!

[terminus]

Yay

Mine references Bryce, Matt and a few other Double-Oh's - and even a fellow poster as another novelist North enjoys reading. It's set on Christmas Day, so hopefully the chronologies of the stories match up for this to work.

[Bryce (003)]

Very kind of you.

In this crazy world, the Double-O's are becoming a very lethal force of the British empire.

Diverse and perverse and always answering the call no matter what.

A live nuke on the White House lawn? No problem.

A luxury cruise ship targeted by terrorists? Bring it.

A dark alley with ten thugs swinging chains and knives? In our sleep.

Blended scotch? Okay, now you have really crossed the line...

Gala being denied chocolate or Joyce cherries? Give it up...You're dead.

Hell yeah!

Cheers!

[tdalton]

I'm nearing the completion of a first draft of the first part of my story. I doubt that I'll have time to hand it off to someone else to read and give back any criticism before this weekend, so when it's posted, it's probably going to be a bit raw (although I'm going to do my best to proof it as much as possible before it's time to submit). I'm also planning some kind of an interlude for the story between the two parts, which I hope to have posted probably as a part of Part 1 of the story (and hopefully this particular part of the story will give it more of a Christmas-y feel).

Since everyone else is posting teasers for theirs (and since I'd be lost as to how to really tease this story as it's not in any kind of completed state at the moment), I'll provide a short synopsis for it. Members that have participated in the Ultimate Bond project in this forum will recognize two of the characters (the new version of Mary Goodnight as well as Vincent Shaw, who went by the name Jonas Black when he was used in the Ultimate Bond project. I would just say that he's a new character, but since I'm using him in a scene in this story that was originally submitted for an Ultimate Bond project scene but wasn't used, I figured I'd make him the same character as well.)

Part 1 opens with Bond and Mary Goodnight (Agent 008), boarding a train in France headed for Switzerland. Their holiday has been cut short, as they're tasked with an emergency assignment to recover top-secret documents and weapons blue-prints from an enemy agent known as Sofia Knight. She has handed them off to her right-hand, Vincent Shaw, in France with instructions to take them to Switzerland, where she will meet him.

Part 2 centers on a trap that Bond and Goodnight set for Sofia Knight in London in an effort to either eliminate both her and Shaw, or to capture them.

[terminus]

It all sounds brilliant, tdalton!

[terminus]

It's been given a greenlight by coco1997 - so here it is, the second Alec North vignette:


ALL THE TRIMMINGS
An Alec North Vignette


Christmas Morning. 6 AM. The alarm clock roused Alec North from his sleep, bringing him to full alertness in seconds. In his business, it didn't pay to spend half an hour wandering around in a daze - anything more than a few seconds could lead to a fatal accident or death. After flinging the duvet back, he wandered into the bathroom and started the shower running whilst he trimmed his stubble and brushed his teeth. Ten minutes later, with a towel wrapped around his muscular frame and smelling of cranberry and cassis body wash, North returned to the bathroom and quickly dressed - Diesel underwear, a simple pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt that fitted his torso and hugged his pecs and biceps firmly.

Ordinarily he'd have risen an hour earlier, taken advantage of the gym in his apartment building or travelled to MI6 Headquarters, used the gym there and been in his office at his desk by 8AM. Neatly bypassing all but the most eager commuters. Not that there would be much trouble with commuters today - the roads would be virtually empty. He'd be able to get to the office in about fifteen minutes on his gleaming red Ducati 1198. The 'Ruby Beast' as Freeman, one of his fellow Double-Oh's, 006, had nicknamed it in the few scant months since he'd joined the division.

A simple and brief breakfast of toast, a bowel of frosted cereal, a cup of milky tea and a glass of cranberry juice gave him the fuel for the morning - he'd pick up some coffee from the staff canteen that would undoubtedly be open, though running at minimum capacity. North was glad that he'd only pulled the morning shift - that Freeman had somehow wound up with the afternoon/evening shift. He sensed the fingers of 003 and 004 in Freeman getting that much dreaded shift.

North wouldn't have objected to that shift, but when he'd been given the morning shift, he'd started to think about what he'd do with himself. An afternoon of good traditional food, his favourite movies and whatever computer game he pulled off the shelf. But then he'd recieved an e-mail from a young Icelandair steward he'd met in Manchester two weeks earlier - and his plans changed. The steward was flying into Heathrow on Christmas Eve and wasn't due to fly back to Reykjavik until the day after Boxing Day - he'd made arrangements to stay with friends, but wondered if North wanted to meet up whilst he was in London. It didn't take long for North to type up the e-mail inviting Axel Fortemente to join him for Christmas dinner on Christmas afternoon.

And that brought things up to date: the journey to the office was brief, there were few cars on the road as he had suspected. He gave a curteous nod to the guards, stuck his head into the office pool to acknowledge his presence, checked in with the relevant departments and then proceeded to read through and sign off the reports that sat in the in-pile on his desk. A report on the recent mission to the South of France by his fellow Double-Oh agents prooved interesting reading - as did the reports from Caldwell and Fitzpatrick on their recent assignments.

He finished off an after-action report on his own mission to Iceland, responding to some requests for clarification of points from his superiors and fellow Double-Oh agents and had just printed the report off when Freeman rapped on his door to announce his arrival.

"Have a nice afternoon," quipped North, Freeman responding with a frustrated sigh. North headed down to the lockeroom to pull on his motorbike leathers before making his way through the snow covered streets back to his apartment in London Docklands. It took slightly longer to get home than it had to get to work - the snow was coming down thick and fast by the time he pulled into the underground carpark. He hoped that Axel wouldn't have any trouble flagging down a taxi to get to the apartment.

A quick change of clothes, swapping out of the jeans and t-shirt into a pair of tan slacks and a short-sleeve shirt with an intricate silver pattern on its dark purple material. He sprayed some aftershave, checked the turkey that he had put into the oven on a low temperature before leaving for the office and then set about preparing the vegetables and desert, enjoying a glass of cranberry juice with vodka whilst he waited.

Ordinarily he was a fan of popular music, but he enjoyed getting into the spirit of Christmas and put a playlist of the Christmas songs he remembered from his childhood: Johnny Mathis, Boney M, MUD, Wizard. Proper Christmas music. He had even decorated his own tree in the corner of the lounge under which the presents (all unwrapped, contemplated and resealed) had been placed. He'd even bought Axel a present - nothing special, just a jumper. He had very little idea what Axel actually enjoyed, despite the few e-mails they'd exchanged since the initial overture of invitation had been made.

And then the doorbell rang.

Right on time.

North crossed the lounge area, pushed open the door. Axel was standing there - as expected - wearing jeans, a black duffel coat and a red scarf wound round his neck. He looked warm, his tanned cheeks were rosy. He had a satchel slung over his shoulder and a sports bag in his hand. Unlike their previous encounter in Manchester, two weeks earlier, this time the air steward had come prepared to spend the night.

"Come in -"

Axel entered, walking directly into the lounge - the apartment was, more or less, open-plan. The bedroom and bathroom were off to one side. The walls were plain white, a few paintings decorating them - abstracts, as opposed to pastoral landscapes or romantic nudes - and the furniture was stylish. There were bookshelves, containing dvds and books, and a computer games system connected up to a HD television that dominated one wall, as well as the Christmas tree, festooned with tinsel and fairy lights, in one corner.

Axel put his satchel down onto the sofa, the sports bag on the floor. He opened the satchel and removed a present that was wrapped in silver paper -

"I bought something for you, I hope you like it," he said, in his curious accent with its deft hints of Italian and Icelandic. North took the present with a clumsy 'thankyou', carefully unwrapped it - this wasn't a regular present, which would have its wrapping paper torn off, this was a process that was special and something to be treasured - and was presented with the glossy front cover of a paperback book. Not one - two. Glossy covers, FENNA GEELHOED in big letters -

North gasped - "How did you know?"

Axel smiled.

"I saw the book you were reading in Manchester. When I got your invitation the other day, I asked at the bookstore for some ideas and they suggested you might like these. You like them then?"

North nodded: "Yes, very much so," he said, putting the two books down onto the edge of the coffee table and leaning in for a quick kiss with the steward. He pulled back - regarding his companion, drinking in the immaculate hair, the black ear stud, the sparkling eyes.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Surprise me -" his companion replied.

In the kitchen, North considered the shelves of his drinks cupboard. It wasn't fully stocked - there were a handful of obvious absences. Gin, Brandy - even a total absence of lemonade. But luckily plenty of vodka, cola and schnapps - with a handful of fruit juices in the fridge. He was sure he could do some work with the ingredients at hand - racked his mind, then the obvious answer came to him: Sunset Boulevards.

North cracked some ice out of the ice-cube tray and into two highball glasses, added two measures of vodka and one of schnapps, then poured in three measures of cranberry juice. The cocktail was almost finished - just the measure of orange juice to add, which was poured in slowly after the cranberry, vodka, ice and schanpps had been stirred together. If done correctly - and North had - the chilled alcohol and cranberry juice didn't merge fully with the orange juice, creating a layered effect.

After sipping his own cocktail to confirm it was presentable, he returned to the lounge with the two Sunset Boulevards. Axel was sitting on the sofa, but rose when North entered, taking the cocktail. He sipped it - the bite of the vodka and the burn of the schnapps only just balanced by the sweetness of the cranberry juice and orange juice.

"So, what will there be for dinner?"

"Turkey. Gammon. Carrots. Roast potatoes. Parmesan Parsnips. Cranberry sauce, Apple sauce. All the trimmings -"

Axel cracked a smile. He obviously liked the sound of the upcoming meal as much as he was enjoying the time spent with the man he believed was a Universal Exports Fashion Buyer. Unaware that he was actually a well paid assassin for her majesties government, that a business trip to Milan was more likely to involve taking down a terrorist cell than investigating a new and promising fashion house.

"And some stuffing?"

North leaned in for a kiss on the Icelandair stewards lips. Wearing a simple polo-shirt, his thick red woolen jumper had been discarded - he smelled good, citrus, woods, spices. Issey Miyake 'L'eau 'D'Issey' if North wasn't mistaken - a contrast to his own Paul Smith Man 2.

North broke the kiss.

"Oh, I'm sure there'll be plenty of that too."




ALEC NORTH, 0011

WILL RETURN IN

'WHAT YOU WISH FOR'

[Bryce (003)]

OUTSTANDING!

Cheers Terminus!

That kicked off the Christmas spirit well.



Nice pace, detailed but not over done, love the "Ruby Beast" (damn fine bike BTW) and you're cocktail knowledge is spot on. Fenna is going to send you kisses for the nod.

Bloody well done and thanks.

Cheers again!

[terminus]

That's made me smile.

The 'Sunset Boulevard' is a fantastic cocktail, one of my favourite simpler ones (though a Mojito or a Long Island Iced Tea, if done right, are both fantastic) and one I only discovered last Christmas when I got bought a new cocktail making set. It is very nice, but I can't quite get used to the schnapps in it!

[MHazard]

Well done Terminus. I hadn't read an Alec North before. Clearly not your grandfather's secret service and about damn time. Thanks for the early present.

[terminus]

Thanks for the compliment, MHazard. The link to the previous story is in my signature - they're the only two so far, so the character is very much a work in progress. I know the third will be a bit longer - a bit more like a traditional Bond story now that I've got the groundwork for the character in my head.

[Bryce (003)]

Well...After one last read through...

Here we go - I just cant wait and Harry will smack the crap out of me for it -

So, as ever, get yourself a proper cocktail, lock the door, ignore the phone and tell anyone else to piss off.

Get ready.

Get set.

and take...

THE HIGH ROAD

The mere notion of stepping out of a perfectly good aircraft is insane….Unless you’re trained for it.

John Bryce and Harry Fawkes did so willingly.

Both had checked their HALO rigs, masks and oxygen before they dropped from the rear of the RAF C-150 at over thirty thousand feet.

Matthew O’Shawnassey’s voice barked into their ears.

“See you lads down below….Presuming I won’t be scraping you up.” He banked off to the right and headed down on his approach to the field.

Bryce shot past in a full “bullet run” and Harry followed. He was ahead of him by about five meters and flipped over long enough to, with his arms extended, give him the finger before spiraling himself around and then, with his back arched, shooting down into a cloud and through it.

“The Hell you did!” from Fawkes.

“The Hell I didn’t.”

They both passed the three thousand foot mark and the landing area was in clear view. At two-fifty, Bryce crossed his arms and tucked his chin down as he pulled the D-ring. The snap and whiplash effect was harsh while the chute deployed. Grabbing the toggles he slowed himself and hit the bulls-eye crosshairs spot on. He actually came in slow enough so that the impact was light and allowed him to tread out of it without a tuck and roll. He collapsed the chute and removed his helmet. The Jump master supervising from the ground approached.

“Impressive Commander. Good time, pinpoint accuracy and nice landing. However, Mister Fawkes touched down two and a half seconds ahead. Sorry about that. I had a fiver on you. Still…Very well done. I’ll give you a ninety-five rating which is better than most of our lads who are on active duty. You didn’t hear that from me.”

Bryce laughed and saluted the Sergeant Major. Harry’s voice came from behind. “Hey John.” He turned to see the shit eating grin and Fawkes extending both his middle fingers in triumph. The shook hands and Bryce bowed and then gestured in the direction of the officer’s club. They had agreed that the last one down would buy the pints. Matt joined them there and they laughed as he handed over a ten note to Fawkes and reached for his own pint. He scowled at 003.

“See, that’s what I get for betting my money on you. Wanker.”

“Trust me with your life, not your money or your wife.”

“Thank God I never married.”

All three returned to the quarters and cleaned up. Harry explained he was on duty watch for Christmas but that he had bargained with his C.O. for adding and additional seventy-two hours of liberty which gave him almost ten days total anytime in the next year. He was thinking about someplace warm and considering the Bahamas. Matt offered the number for the manager at the Atlantis resort telling him it was nice. Especially if a soldier on leave liked tropical drinks, college girls in barely there bikinis and some casino action.

Harry gave a low whistle of admiration as he walked them out to the lot approaching Matt’s Lagonda.

“I really need to think about getting work with you guys. She’s a beauty. I bet you can blast around in this like nobody’s business.”

Matt smiled; “You have no idea how right you are.” Bryce winked and gave a ‘thumbs up’. Harry saluted.

With that, they said their goodbye’s and both agents rode back into London.

Two days later Bryce cleared the inbox sitting on the desk finishing one last folder and signed off on the circulation list. It was just after three. He checked the computer and only a few updates appeared. The third of January for his range qualification was the only thing of note. He found himself yawning and slowly glanced towards the decanter on his filing cabinet debating an end of the day sip. He paused and then took the stack from his tray and walked out to Loelila. She held a cup of tea as some pages printed out.

“Saving me a trip?” She smiled as she retrieved the documents.

“’Tis the season to be jolly…and yes.” He placed the folders on her desk and asked if there had been any word from the man upstairs and she removed her glasses shaking her head but offering to call. He waved a hand telling her not to bother. If he hadn’t heard anything by four, he’d go himself. He had put in the leave request at the start of November for just five days. It was to begin on the next day – 22 December.

Having earned nearly three months for the year, which, aside from a few days here and there, that he hadn’t taken, he figured it wouldn’t be an issue unless something major happened.

The Admiral had the final say, but both Tanner and Asterix had given him the clear. Still, it was up to the man at the top to confirm. There was a soft rap on his open door. Athena, looking nothing short of fabulous in a sleeveless royal blue roll-neck sweater and snug black knee-high skirt with black velvet boots, strolled in.

“Hello handsome.” She flashed a grin and added with a husky whisper batting her eyes; “So sailor, you want to fool around in the supply closet for a pre-Christmas ‘quickie’?”

He tapped his keyboard. “I just emailed Father Christmas to confirm you were on his ‘naughty’ list. You’ll be getting a lump of coal for certain.”

“Thank God. You know what they say, nice girls go to Heaven and naughty girls go anywhere.” Both laughed and she explained she was dropping off some files to Lil’ and that the Admiral wanted to see him. He nodded as he stood.

“You know, I often wonder if you don’t run MI6.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Do and I’ll take you over my knee and spank your bum red.”

In a mocked way, she paused and stared off dreamily at the ceiling letting out a sigh; “Promises, promises.” She giggled and moved out the door.

He rolled his sleeves back down before buttoning his shirt at the top and correcting his tie and cuffs. As he slung on his jacket he adjusted the Browning in it’s scabbard rig. Lastly though, he did take a small box from the bottom of his desk before heading to the lift.

Athena wasn’t at her desk when he entered the outer office and the door was ajar. He tapped twice.

“Come.” The Admiral sat at the desk looking over some documents and gestured to one of the two high backed leather chairs. After a moment he looked up and offered a slight smile.

“Good to see you. Also, you’ve made me quite proud with the Monte Carlo assignment. We were able to freeze the accounts in Geneva after the event when the Countess made her deposits. That’ll put some pressure on the bastards. I also received the report on your jump. Fawkes offered a letter of commendation as well. Nicely done on all.”

“Thank you Sir.”

“I’ve approved your leave, but I have a favor to ask.”

“What’s the score?”

He stood and crossed to the bar taking one of the decanters with two tumblers offering 003 to smoke if he wished. Pouring them each a glass he sat in the second chair. They toasted. Bryce took note of the forty year old Oban. It was the ‘good stuff’.

“I’ll cut to the chase.” He went on removing a memory stick from his waistcoat. It contained the sonar/radar technical information that North, the newly minted 0011, had retrieved. It was to be passed on to the development and research division at the Royal Navy shipyard’s intelligence HQ in Edinburgh and sensitive enough that it would need to be hand delivered and done so by someone with better than level eight clearance and, preferably, a Navy man. Knowing that Bryce was heading up that way, he asked, not ordered, that 003 take on the errand.

He nodded and was given the folder. Athena would confirm it with the yard’s security and the Commander of the base there.

“Seems pretty cut and dry then Sir.”

“Right then. Sorry to barge in on your travels.”

“Not too much of a detour from where I’m going. Don’t worry about it.”

They finished their drink and both stood shaking hands.

“By the way, Athena does not run this division. I do.”

He gave a smile as Bryce dropped his head.

“Get out of here and have a Happy Christmas. Where are you headed anyway?”

Bryce paused as he stepped towards the door turning back; “Home. Cheers Sir.” and gave a nod.

Exiting the office, Athena was half bent at the file cabinet with her back to him. He palmed the box he had taken from his desk placing it next to her keyboard and then, with only about a third force, smacked her on the bum. She jumped and spun around with wide eyes and then became somewhat flushed. He grinned.

“You wicked girl…You told him. Don’t act like you’re offended or embarrassed. That swat turned you on….and my hand tells me you’re either wearing a thong or nothing at all under that skirt.”

She blushed even more then hugged him wishing him well. He gave her a mutual squeeze and kissed her cheek before heading out. She sat down and saw the box. Pale blue with white ribbon - the one that every girl in the world wants and the distinct ‘Tiffany and Co.’ lettering was clear.

The card read: “For Special Services” – JB

A smallish, but elegant pair of silver and emerald ear ring studs. She smiled and then began removing the ear rings she was wearing. Damn if the man didn’t know a woman.

Later, at his townhouse, there had been only two messages on the voice mail. One from Athena thanking him for the gift and the next from Loelila offering mutual appreciation for the silver bracelet set with a few sapphire stones that she had received.

He had cleaned out the fridge of any perishables and taken them down to Ellie, the manager of the building and also had rewarded Angus, her small black Scottish Terrier, with a bit of smoked sausage which was devoured happily. A fitting reward for the most trusted and vicious attack dog in all of London. Even if he did like having his ears and tummy scratched by those he knew.

He emptied his trash down the chute to insure that he wouldn’t be returning home to anything short of a bio-hazard. As he had left Vauxhall, the Jaguar was fully serviced and tanked up. Freddy assured him that both he and the Quartermaster had given the “Big Blue Cat” – as it was known around the motor pool - a full once over mechanically and with regards to some of it’s other “refinements”.

In the bedroom he had continued packing with the dryer finishing up the last of his laundry while, with an occasional pause, enjoying one of the Dean Martin ‘Matt Helm’ films on a movie channel between sips of scotch, when there was a knock at the door up top.

Gala Brand stood with her trademark beret – at a rackish angle – and a bag on her arm. He invited her in and they hugged. He pointed to the light fixture above them. The mistletoe hung from it. He kissed her full on the mouth and she let out a soft sigh and hugged him again.

“Now that we’re co-workers, actions like that will get us into trouble.” She removed her coat which he took and placed on the rack in the corner.

“Hey, that was for two very good reasons. First, holiday tradition.”

She placed her beret on one of the hat pegs and tucked her gloves into the pocket of her coat; “and the second?”

“I always enjoy it.” She grinned as he picked up the bag. Moving to the kitchen, she undid her jacket revealing the holster at her hip and the Beretta Model 70-s – the same pistol that had saved his life in Japan two years before. She removed it placing it on the counter and checked the safety before taking the bag and the box from it.

“Loch Dhu – ’71. Joyce and I found it at El Vino. Ace tipped me off that it was one of your favorites. Cheers.” She smiled.

Bryce returned the smile and thanked her with another hug and a soft kiss.

“Much appreciated luv. So, aside from ‘bearing gifts’, what’s got you over here? Not that I mind the company.”

She crossed to the sofa and explained that she had heard of his ‘errand’ from Loelila. As he brought her a cup of tea and sat down from her, she told him the Admiral had requested that she go up and oversee the examination of the intel. Essentially, she was asking to tag along rather than fly up or take to the rails.

It made sense. Bryce liked the idea and agreed. He told Gala to pack and to be back at the townhouse by ten o’clock the next morning ready for the road. She left with another hug and, finishing his own packing, he caught the last fifteen minutes of “The Ambushers” downstairs before showering and then turned in scanning CNN to see what the rest of the world was up to.

Just before 1pm, they pulled off to a roadside pub having just crossed into Scotland. Gala had returned spot on at ten that morning. Having made good time getting out of the city, they enjoyed a light lunch of proper cheddar and pickle sandwiches along with a large shared bowl of vegetable soup accompanied by a plate of chips with vinegar and pepper.

The Jaguar loved the road eating it up and purring happily as some smooth Miles Davis jazz filtered through the sound system. The weather was grey but the traffic light. Gala had spoken of catching up on some of the archived files and was quite devout in reading about her new division.

Bryce told her of the more amazing bits he had read and the many incredible parts he’d come across himself. As he finished speaking of one, she looked at him wide-eyed.

“You’re having a go at me…Truly?...A hollowed out volcano, an international crime organization, a reusable spacecraft that gobbled up other spacecraft of the time and one hundred Japanese SIS trained ninjas raiding the place backing up an established double-o who’s death had been faked? Sorry, but I just don’t buy it. It’s like something out of movies.”

“Truth can be stranger than fiction. If Oliver Stone ever got his hands on this information, we’d all be in trouble. Wait until you read about the super tanker that scooped up ballistic missile subs in the late 70’s.”

“Really?”

“No…Really.”

She shook her head and after a minute asked; “Does that rocket pack down in Q Branch actually work?” Bryce rolled his eyes.

The Jaguar shot down the road and continued up the coast.

They had another ninety minutes of driving and were booked into a two bedroom suite at the Balmoral. He’d promised a proper dinner after delivering the memory stick at the shipyards. They’d return in the morning and 003 had brought his Commander’s uniform. Not that it was a requirement, but he felt he should prove his worth beyond both his RNVR and MI6 identification cards. Also, it would be best if they didn’t stand out as civilians. Gala had procured a ladies Lieutenant’s uniform complete with proper insignia’s, shoes and cap. Bryce assured her a formal inspection of her attire would be conducted.

The rolled along for another ten minutes. As Gala was selecting some more music from her iPod, a motorcycle screamed past at well over a hundred mph. It flew on ahead. The sky was getting dim and there was mist. Bryce’s internal radar – aka: his gut – made him check the road behind. Nothing of notice but he couldn’t shake the feeling even as the Rolling Stones “Gimmie Shelter” began to play.

The man on the motorcycle spoke into his headset as he pulled off into some trees from the highway.

“The plates and make of the car check out. It’s him and there’s a woman with him. Remember: We need to recover the item. Get them off the road, but don’t destroy it. He most likely has it on his person. Now, perhaps the girl might have it as well.”

“Understood.” was the response.

The two other bikes roared onto the highway two miles back and they kept a careful, even speed but slowly increased it as they came up. Both fitted the mini-Uzi’s on the bracket mounts and accelerated.

Just as they rounded a bend, they fired and the sparks lit up the rear window and were deflected from the glass and coach work on the boot. Gala crouched down in her seat. Bryce swore and put his foot down. Damn. The first bike was a scout and the other two had come up in tandem to give the illusion of an auto. Somebody was on to them, but the who or why wasn’t the concern at the moment.

The Jaguar soared to over ninety. This cat wouldn’t be taken by some alley kittens. Bryce reached under the dash below his headlamp knob and pressed the recessed flat button. The digital and dated trip computer set in the central dash flipped down and a flat screen slid out and then tilted upwards. It immediately showed a rear view of both the motorcycles as they sped along.

Then the voice came. American accented and a sultry cross between Kathleen Turner and Susan Sarandon.

“Armament systems, offensive and defensive, activated and readied.”

Gala was awe struck. Bryce held a tight lipped smile.

“Nobody puts kitty in the corner.”

He swerved the car purposely but then straightened it out. C’mon you bastards…Just a bit closer. He told Gala that it was a touch-screen and to tap it as he focused on the road ahead. She did so. It was like looking at iPhone applications.

“Rams…Aft. Level Five.”

She selected it from the screen as another volley of bullets bounced off. The next icon was flashing “deploy”. Not touching the brake pedal, Bryce shifted the gear lever into neutral but revved the engine and slowed.

He barked; “NOW!” and Gala tapped the screen.

The rear rubber coated steel bumper shot out nearly a meter in less than a second slamming into the front wheels of both the motorcycles. The rider on the left was thrown over his and tumbled on the road as his bike dropped down hitting him, spinning as it did. The second collided with the first and went off wildly into the brush to the right. Bryce saw the body launch airborne behind it. The bumper retracted back into the Jaguar.

The automated voice spoke again; “Deployment successful.” Bryce had already shifted back into Drive and the car kicked forward. They raced down the highway.

Seeing the Jaguar pass intact, the first man spoke into his headset again. With no response from the others, he contacted the back-up group of sedans. Prepping the charge, he went onto the roadway and accelerated.

Gala saw the single headlamp in the off-side mirror and gasped.

Bryce caught it the central mirror and put on more speed.

“Ever get the feeling somebody didn’t like you?”

“Only an ugly little boy in grade school.” was her response. The third bike was coming up fast. As Bryce debated his options and negotiated the road, he was surprised as she reached to the center console opening the sunroof and chambered her pistol.

She then undid her seatbelt and stood out the top leveling her gun over the back. She fired twice and then steadied herself taking careful aim. Three more and he witnessed the approaching motorcycle veer and then there was a tremendous explosion.

She sat back down smoothing her hair while closing the roof and fastening her seatbelt. Offering a smile, she gestured to the control panel while placing a fresh clip into her Beretta.

“I wasn’t going to be out done by whoever she is.”

Bryce laughed as they continued on. As he was beginning to explain exactly who the voice of the Jaguar had been provided by, they came over a rise to see two BMW sedans blocking the road just a quarter mile ahead nose to nose and men were visible. He reached to the screen and tapped another icon.

The front turn indicator lights retracted and a set of twin barrels extended from behind each. Two buttons snapped out from the center panel of the steering wheel. Bryce depressed them and the .30 caliber guns fired. Both cars were immediately riddled with the rounds and blown apart leaving just enough of a gap for them to pass through without losing speed. As they did, one exploded leaving a fiery mass in their wake.

Gala sat stunned and then asked; “This has to be the most elegant and lethal tank I’ve ever been in. Anything it can’t do?”

“Mix a good martini, but I’m working on that.” He quickly, and abruptly, took the next exit and they pulled off. It was becoming dark and he activated the GPS from the screen. After a moment he reached under his seat removing what looked to be a pair of ski goggles and fitted them on. The newest in night-vision from the Quartermaster. Switching off the headlamps, he took them onto the road heading west into the hills.

“Time to go ‘off the grid’ and we won’t be going to Edinburgh.”

“Why not?”

“We’ve been spotted and nearly taken out. Whoever it is will have people waiting for us there. We’re taking the ‘High Road’. Not to worry, I learned to drive on these and I’ve got a safe place for us. I think you’ll like it. It’s where I was headed anyway.”

Just over an hour later, they came into the small township. Light snow was falling as Bryce pulled up to the curb. The drive through the hillsides had been lovely for what Gala could see once her eyes had adjusted. It was chilly and she slipped on her coat as 003 gave the car a walk around inspection. Not a scratch. He patted the bonnet adding “Good Kitty”. Gala snickered.

“I grew up here. The small theater down the street is where I saw ‘Star Wars’ and that shop over there is where I bought my first Flake bar.” They moved to the corner.

“I had my first legal pint here after Mum and Dad. Ever heard the phrase ‘Hair of the Dog’?” She nodded. He gestured to the board above the door. “This is the Scottish version around these parts. The ‘Feather of the Duck’ Pub and Inn.” He held the door for her as they entered.

It was warm and a large fireplace burned with two kettles on iron swing racks were simmering. About a dozen patrons sat about. Oak and brass railings and some strung Christmas lights were lined over the bar. Bryce stepped forward slipping off his coat and, along with Gala’s, placed them on a rack.

“Well…A man would die of thirst before he was offered a drink around here.”

The woman behind the bar looked up and then beamed. She was in her sixties and clasped her hands together and came around spreading her arms and taking Bryce about the neck.

“JOHN! Oh my sweet!” She hugged him.

“Hello Sabrina.”

She looked him over after the embrace and patted his arms.

“Handsome as your father ever was. He only had eyes for Kathleen though.” She took note of Gala; “Oh my…Aren’t you lovely?”

Bryce made the introductions and then came the obvious from Sabrina of their relationship to each other. Gala delivered; “Oh no…We work together. I recently joined Universal. We got a late start out of London and with the weather, he offered me a night here.”

“Well, you won’t be staying here dear.” She turned to back to Bryce; “Peter and the boys opened up the place and I grabbed three of the girls that work here to help me dust everything off and take care of all the linens. The Rover is up there. I tended to what needed to go from the freezer and stocked the pantry along with the icebox. We even strung some lights and the tree arrived yesterday.”

Bryce gave her a hug and thanked her. She treated the two to some incredible eggnog for Gala and a healthy brandy and ginger ale for him. They returned to the Jaguar after Gala had made use of what was perhaps the nicest ladies room in all of Scotland.

“Sabrina is a delight and the eggnog is destined to become the new crack. Promise me I can have some more before I go into withdraw symptoms. Now where is this ‘place’ she spoke of?”

“My family home.”

With the light snow falling they went off the main road. Gala had contacted Tanner and given him an evaluation of what transpired. A Navy helicopter would be waiting the next morning for her and the stick on the property. They turned off onto another side road past a stone inscribed “Bryce Manor”.

As they came over a small crest, it slowly came into view. Gala stared and gasped; “Good God….Are you Royalty?”

“Officially the title is ‘Landed Gentry’. My great-great-great-great Grandfather founded the township and built this place in 1826.”

It was at least four floors with a tower that went up another three on the left. He slowed to a stop. The large oak drawbridge lowered. They drove across the moat and the bridge closed. Bryce explained there was a sensor in the nose of the car that triggered it. He pulled into the open courtyard. Blue and green spotted with few purple lights ringed the area - The family tartan’s colors. An older Land Rover sat in one corner.

Bryce retrieved a remote from the map pocket and a large wooded panel slid back across one wall. He rolled the Jaguar into the garage and they both climbed out. Gala was all but speechless.

They took their bags from the boot and walked up to heavy door as she continued to look about. It was like being at Disneyland. Bryce closed the door of the garage and then took out an iron key and worked the lock. What happened upon their entry was a complete surprise.

Music, loud but not too loud. The Hives – “Tick, Tick, Tick Boom” sounded from the left. There was an elegant study on the right and a master stairwell in the foyer like something out of ‘Gone with the Wind’ and the walls were stone with wood paneling. Fitted gas lights and modern recessed soft lights illuminated the area. It was amazingly warm.

Bryce set down his bags and then moved towards the music. A roaring fireplace was set against one wall amongst the Victorian furniture and leather bound sofas and chairs amidst the twenty foot raftered ceilings and two gas burning elaborate chandeliers. However, that was not what caught Gala’s attention.

She stood dancing to the music in front of the fire wearing a snug pair of boxer shorts patterned with the Union Jack and a black mid-rift tank top holding a snifter. There was an open crystal decanter on the coffee table. Tall, slender with an ample bosom and a mane of reddish hair that flowed wildly about her down to her lower back. Her eyes were closed as she gyrated to the pulsating song.

Bryce barked; “Turn that down girl!”

The eyes snapped open as she spun about. In one movement, she set down the snifter and raced across leaping into his arms wrapping her legs about him kissing him all over his face. She giggled as he hugged her tightly.

He turned about holding her as Gala stood perplexed.

“Gala Brand – meet my sister. Katherine Bryce. You can call her ‘Kate’”.

She flashed a grin; “Hello.”

Gala’s jaw fell open. She had read his dossier. There was never a mention of any siblings. Feeling faint for a brief moment, she managed to close her mouth. Kate put her feet back on the floor and stepped towards her. She waved an opened palm in front of her face and glanced back to Bryce.

“Is she a mute or handicapped? Granted, she is gorgeous from what I can see and I know how you love brunettes - well blondes, redheads and anything with breasts, a vagina and a pulse - but did you steal her away from a clinic or something to keep her as a love slave?”

He shrugged and poured himself a glass; “She’s a dominatrix. I pay her to spank me and talk trash in my ear.”

“Cheers then.” She turned back to Gala; “Good for you. I thought about it as a career path if I didn’t go into adult films or pole-dancing. Sadly, I didn’t follow through on either, but it was always the dream.”

“Well, you were considered the town bicycle…Everybody got a ride.”

“That tears it!”

She pounced on him taking him to the sofa and scolded him.

“I was the town skateboard. Not everyone got a ride and you had to know how to do it properly without getting hurt.”

Gala burst out into laughter as did both. No mistaking it. She was certainly of the same blood. Seeing them together, she couldn’t deny the resemblance in the eyes and face. He kissed her brow and she hugged him for a long moment.

Possibly in her thirties but could have been twenty-five. Fair skinned and a stunning, toned body with long legs that were flawless along with her bum. Drop dead gorgeous was an understatement.

She looked to Gala; “It was one of the local boys my first time. He broke my heart and John broke his leg.” She gazed at him adoringly as he smiled at her.

“You had been crying for four days. He needed a reminder. Besides, he was a prick and you only did it once and he went on to the next. He deserved a full leg cast for eight weeks.”

“Gala, this is – amongst many reasons - why I love my big brother….and then there was his first.”

“Don’t…” he scowled.

She smiled devilishly; “Debbie Harrison.” She went on about walking in on them. Bryce cringed.

“He had her bent over across his bed with her school skirt pushed up around her waist and her knickers around her ankles. She was certainly enjoying herself. They were both sixteen. It was legal.”

Gala laughed again and then blushed. Kate narrowed her eyes and looked between the two. She figured it out in a nanosecond.

“You are both sooooo busted.” She picked up her snifter.

Bryce gave her a long look; “What happens in Japan stays in Japan.”

“What about the Bahamas?” Gala offered with a sly smile.

“Please luv, don’t give her anymore ammo.” Kate all but spit out her scotch, but that would have been a sin in the Bryce household.

She took Gala by the arm and led her towards the kitchen offering to dish more dirt. Bryce filled his glass almost full and gazed at the framed portrait of his parents over the fireplace raising the snifter.

“You’re missed. Happy Christmas...But did you really have to have her?” The combined laughter coming from the kitchen told him to just stay by the fire…or dive into it.

Ah…The holidays.

[terminus]

An excellent story, Bryce! I will give it a more thorough readthrough in the next few days and give some more feedback then!

[tdalton]

I've actually managed to finish a draft of the first part of my story, which I didn't think that I'd get done even before the end of the day tomorrow. I'm actually feeling a bit better about it as well now that I was when it was trying to map it out. It's a fairly dialogue-heavy bit, so I'm going to go back in a second draft and beef it up a bit around the dialogue, but I'm fairly happy with it now, at least from the standpoint that I think I've created a good relationship between Bond and Goodnight that will be a good foundation for the reboot idea I had for after this particular project.

I might even post it here a day or two before Christmas if the second draft can get done to my satisfaction before then.

[Joyce Carrington]

Struggling to get mine done! Even if it's only 007 pages...

Bryce, I won't read yours 'til Christmas Eve. Then I'll sit down with a nice cuppa tea and read all the stories in one go.

So close now...

[chrisno1]

24 hours to go to see Past Times....

[terminus]

7 pages will still be a fantastic read, Joyce

Eagerly waiting to see what you drum up, chrisno.

[MHazard]

Now playing, on the main fan fiction page, just in time for Christmas, Ian Fleming's James Bond in "Let Nothing You Dismay" (A Bond Holiday Story). Looking forward to sitting down with everyone else's offerings and hope my stacks up. Merry Christmas all!

[terminus]

A revised list of the stories (UPDATED 24/12/10):


Bryce -
Untitled Extract # 1
Untitled Extract # 2 - Matt and Lava
And To All A Goodnight
And To All A Goodnight - Aftermath
Not Quite A Holiday - 2010
The High Road - 2010

chrisno1 -
James Bond's Christmas
Past Times - 2010

clinkeroo -
The Naughty List - 2010

Joyce -
Dreaming Of
Extract from The Circle Trilogy #3: Method to Madness
A Right Christmas - 2010

MattofSteel -
The Knife Before Christmas

MHazard -
Let Nothing You Dismay - 2010

Scrambled Eggs -
Christmas with Clive

tdalton -
Goodnight, Mr Bond - 2010

Terminus -
Nuclear Kiss - Part 1
Nuclear Kiss - Part 2
Nuclear Kiss - Part 3
Alec North Vignette # 1 - A Flying Visit - 2010
Alec North Vignette # 2 - All The Trimmings - 2010

Trident -
New Years Day

Volante -
The Night Before
Fire with Fire - 2010