Secret Weapon

Old Dog, New Tricks

Three months.

That's how long it's been since James was stranded on Ezra's backdoor. Since his shoulder started to heal. He had his moments, a strain here and there but he was healing fine. It was hard to let go of his past life, he was trying his best. James wasn't good at letting go anyway. Even if his job called for it. Memories of lives he could have had never quite left his mind.

It was early morning when James heard the news. Ezra was taking a sip of coffee and had turned on the TV. James had his own... adventure the night prior so he was slowly waking up with a groan from his place on the couch as the screen flickered to life. His hazy eyes slowly glanced up at the screen. "... emergency crews are still attempting to access the damage as investigators hunt for leads in what now appears to be a major terrorist attack in the heart of London..." Ezra's mug slowly slipped from his lips. The TV was filled with camera shots of the MI6 building in flames. Someone planted a bomb in MI6... What a ballsy move. Paying closer attention, the pair watched more intently. "... No one has yet claimed responsibility for what sources are calling a possible "cyber-terrorist assault" on the British Secret Service... Early reports from the scene indicate at least six dead, many more injured, with victims being evacuated to local hospitals within minutes of the explosion..."

James' jaw clenches slightly. Being 'dead' for a while was nice but it seemed his job was never really finished. His eyes hardened as he stared at the red, hazy screen filled with images of smoke and fire.

"So..." Ezra turns to look at James, a similar look in his eyes. He needed to know if his child was alive. Alix could have been in that building at the time of the explosion. "When do we leave?"

—-----

It was past midnight by the time Bond entered Ezra's flat. One he kept just in case he wanted to visit home every once in a while. The flat was draped in darkness, only a light haze filtering through the blinds from the street lights outside making all the furniture look like shadows. And there was the masculine silhouette. The figure leaned over to turn on a lamp next to him. The room illuminated almost immediately, showing Ezra in a simple t-shirt and pajama pants. He was waiting for Bond to come back.

The man crossed his arms as he looked up at James, eyebrows furrowed. "You took a while. Work out what you needed to?" He asked.

"Worked it out well enough." James shrugged, a tired look in his eyes. It wasn't as bad as it was when he was with Ezra. "Look... I need a place to stay. With someone I trust. M sold my apartment because, well, protocol when an agent dies and has no next of kin or anything." Ezra was one of the only people he'd started to trust that wasn't exactly in the secret service. Not anymore, at least.

Ezra hummed softly as he stood, glancing down at the wooden floors for a moment. "I wouldn't have it any other way, 007." He teased softly, "Can't have you in a hotel, that would give you away. Hm?"

Three months was enough for the two of them to grow attached. Being attached wasn't something Bond experienced much but he did live with the man for quite a while. Seeing an agent like Ezra do such mundane things like cook breakfast or come home from shopping was jarring. Bond could barely be at home for a second before he was pulled into another mission, experiencing a simple thing like boredom was refreshing.

"Hm, and... M knows you're here." Bond said softly, his ice blue eyes melting. Just a little. His guard was never truly down. Even when Ezra was the only one around for miles.

Ezra chuckled softly, shaking his head. M always knew when he was in London. Or even just in the country, It was like clockwork. Everytime he so much as touched the border, a text message would weasel itself into his phone. On a plane, a boat, or in a car, it didn't matter where. Ezra was one of M's favorites.