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kjr_nanojournal May. 10th, 2013 12:02 am)
kjr_nanojournal May. 10th, 2013 12:02 am)A bit of crossover crack that popped into my head after seeing Skyfall.
When the Sky Falls
To a Scot, the past clings like sand to wet feet and is carried about as a burden.
The many ghosts are always a part of them, inescapable.
Geddes MacGregor
1.
“Ah, hell.”
The words sap the last of the strength out of Bond and he curls, exhausted, over the body in his arms. He doesn’t bother to look at the speaker; he knows who it is. He’s heard Fury’s voice arguing with M’s over the coms enough times to recognize it in real life. It was a voice he’d learned to trust. Not that it mattered anymore.
“Colonel,” Kincade says.
“Graeme,” the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. answers. There’s a jingle of keys then Fury speaks again. “My SUV’s about a quarter mile up the trail. I’ll help ya load these two up; you can hide em out at the cottage while I handle the sight-seers.”
“I’m not sure—“
“Do it,” Bond says, at least he thinks he says it. He’s beginning to shiver and the muscles in his jaw are clenched tight enough that speaking seems more trouble than it’s worth but, going by the silence behind him, he managed to force those few words out.
After a few seconds there is movement; someone moving away from him and someone moving closer. Bond stares down at M’s body and had trouble figuring out why her hair is wet. A shudder drifts through him and he feels himself drifting as his teeth clatter together.
“This is Eagle Eye.” Bond jerks slightly at the sound of Fury’s voice. It’s closer than he’s expecting it to be.
“Jamming…” Bond points out then blinks up at the handheld in Fury’s hand when the man moves into his line of sight.
“Borrowed his,” Fury says. “Need a cleanup team at my location. Don’t let anyone within five klicks of the place.” He scowls and turns slightly as he snaps, “I don’t give a damn what MI6 says. Tie them up till I say so.” Bond can just hear the voice on the other end of Fury’s call. They don’t sound happy. “Remind them I bought the place and they can just kiss my ass.”
Bond barks out a laugh. It almost ends with a sob but he bites down on the outburst before that happens.
There’s a click when Fury shuts off the cell, a rustle of fabric, then something heavy is set across his shoulders. Probably Fury’s coat though it’s too much of an effort now to lift his head to look. When Fury crouches down where Bond can see him, Bond’s still not sure. Thoughts are slowing down and he can’t remember if Fury even had a coat on when he looked at the man.
Another shudder runs through him and he half expects to hear the crackle of ice when he moves his head. “Sorry for blowing up your…” Bond runs out of breath and has to focus on breathing a few seconds before he can finish with, “your investment.”
“Eh, some ruins’ll give it character.” Fury reaches out and holds his hand over M’s lips. Bond frowns as he watches him do it. “Let me take her,” Fury says as he pulls back.
Bond doesn’t answer; he just stares at M’s face. He’s not sure he can let go even if he wants too. Fury takes the decision out of his hand and gently picks her up.
“Can you carry her so I can get him moving?”
“I got her.”
Without M in his arms, Bond is tempted to let gravity have its way and just lie down on the cold stones. Fury takes that decision out of his hands too. He’s pulls to his feet but resists for a second when he catches sight of Kincade slowly limping out of the chapel with M cradled in his arms.
“Why?” he asks as he tries to look up at Fury.
“She deserves better than to end up the center of an investigation,” Fury answers as he pulls one of Bond’s arms across his shoulder and starts dragging him along. Bond feels the urge to argue but he has to pay attention to where his feet are going. He only spares a second to glance at Silva—good, he staying down—then just goes back to putting one foot in front of the other.
When he’s shoved into the front passenger seat, there’s a sense of surprise. Bond’s not sure he’s happy about that. Surprise means he’s beginning to move one and he’s not ready to do that just yet. He gives Fury a dark look as the man closes the door. Fury ignores it completely.
“The pass key will disarm the security system,” Bond hears Fury telling Kincade when the driver’s side door is open. “You can put her in the first bedroom on the left.”
“Right.” Kincade climbs in and starts the engine. “You okay there, boy?”
“Peachy,” Bond answers as he leans against the window. He can see lights bobbing up the Glen.
“Oh good,” he says. “Here comes the cavalry.”
When Mikel spots his dad’s Land Rover backed up to the front door he shuts off the headlights on his SUV, slows it down to a crawl, and flips on the vehicle’s HUD. Since he borrowed this SUV out of the Torchwood garage, he’s got more information that he’d get on a military grade vehicle. The good news is that within a two kilometer radius there are no heat sources, beyond small game, being picked up. The bad news is that the stone of the so called cottage is too thick for the scanners to pierce.
Once he’s close enough, Mikel kills the engine and they coast the last few meters, blocking in the parked SUV. When they come to a stop Loki, sitting in the passenger seat, shifts then settles. Mikel knows he’s being watched as he pulls out his cell and tries calling his dad.
“No luck?” Loki breathes out when he frowns and puts the cell back in his pocket.
“No.” Glancing in the rear view mirror, Mikel can just see his little brother and sister. Both Jake and Aislynn are asleep; Jake’s only still upright because of his seatbelt while Aislynn—still young enough to be strapped into a carseat—is doubled over with her face buried into the blue stuffed thing she refers to as Kitty but looks more like a lizard to Mikel. Between them Loki’s dog Tinkerbell meets Mikel’s gaze in the mirror; the little terrier’s eyes flashing green in the darkness.
As he pulls his gun out of his holster and pops the door open, Loki says, “Be careful.” Mikel nods his head.
When he gets to the front of the house he finds the security system is off. Slipping inside he pauses a moment and listens. He can hear someone in the kitchen but the rest of the house is quiet. Mikel considers calling out just in case it is just dad, quickly discards the idea, and steps into the kitchen, gun raised. He quickly sights on the two men sitting at the table. One, an older man with a mildly surprised look on his face, Mikel immediately recognizes. The second whose blue eyes are flat and disinterested when they glance at the gun pointed at them takes Mikel a few seconds longer to identify. He sighs and lets the gun drop to his side.
“Kincade,” he says with a nod to the older man. “Bond,” he says to the other. That brings a flicker of emotion to Bond’s face. He frowns and glances at Kincade as the man returns the nod and says, “Mikel.” He leans towards Bond to say in an undertone, “Fury’s son.”
Bond turns back towards him as he slips the gun away. “You work for SHIELD.” There’s an undertone to Bond’s rough voice that sends a shiver of recognition through Mikel but he ignores it as he picks up the home phone out of its cradle and punches in a code.
“No, Torchwood.” Bond frowns at that. Turning to Kincade Mikel asks, “I’m guessing you know where dad is? I’m assuming he’s not here.”
“No, he’s not. He’s…” Kincade stops as if unsure how to explain it.
“Putting out a fire,” Mikel mutters and gets a nod just as Mala, his father’s secretary, picks up. “Mala,” he says, “I need you to patch me through to dad.” Sensing a protest, he adds, “I’ve got a wet 007 sitting in the kitchen and dad nowhere in sight.”
“Right,” she says, “give me a minute to get a connection up.”
Before that could happen, there was a shout outside then a rapid clicking sound—claws on hardwood. Mikel makes a grab for the little furry mass running by but misses. “Tinkerbell!” he snaps as the terrier skids around Bond’s chair and rears up on her hind legs to rest her front paws on Bond’s leg. She gives a happy bark then sneezes a puff of snow on Bond.
That results in a stronger reaction. “What the hell,” Bond says as he rears back, lifting his arms as he stared down at the melting whiteness on his leg.”
“Believe that’s called snow,” Kincade offers.
“I know what the hell it is,” Bond shoots back. “What’s it doing coming out of a dog?”
“Better hope that’s all that comes out,” Mikel says and gets a dirty look for that comment.
Before he can add anything else, the connection goes through. “Let me guess,” Mikel’s father says says without bothering with hello. “You’re at the cottage.”
“Yeah, I’m at the cottage. I take it you found Silva?” He knows he’s right when Bond’s dirty look turns to a murderous one.
There’s a pause then: “How’d ya know about that?”
“A shootout at an inquiry involving the head of MI6? That tends to get even Torchwood’s attention.”
“Uh huh. Where’s Loki and the kids?”
“Here,” he answers. He can hear Loki just outside the kitchen and raises his voice slightly. “Do you want to talk to him, dad?” That pulls Loki in; he’s carrying a still sleeping Aislynn in one arm and holding a blinking and confused Jake with the other. Loki gives Bond and Kincade a small tight smile then raises an eyebrow in question. “Yeah; put him on.”
Mikel nods his head and trades the phone for Aislynn. His sister lets out a sleepy protest, opens one eye to see who she’d been handed off to, then lets her head fall against Mikel’s shoulder and she’s out again. Jake presses up against Loki and watches his mother with wide eyes. Over at the kitchen table, Bond has a puzzled scowl on his face as he looks at Loki and Jake. Mikel is sure part of his puzzlement is Jake’s bright blue hair.
Mikel’s attention returns to Loki when he turns and steps out of the kitchen though Mikel—and probably Kincade and Bond can still hear him. “She won’t come, Nick,” he says, his voice heavy with guilt. Jake leans against one leg and hugs Loki’s legs or at least as much as he can reach. A small sad smile crosses Loki’s face as he brushes Jake’s hair back from his face.
“No, that’s not something I can do but…” Loki glances at Mikel then seems to brighten. “She might come if Mikel calls her though. She likes him.” Mikel narrows his eyes as Loki steps back into the kitchen. ‘Yes, here; let me put him back on.” He hands Mikel the phone. “Your dad has a request.” He then turns to the two men at the table to ask brightly, “Anyone hungry?”
Shaking his head, Mikel lifts the phone to his ear, “Who am I calling?” he asks.
“Hela,” his father answers. “M’s up in the first spare bedroom. Need you to ask Hela to put her in stasis until I figure things out unless ya brought something from Torchwood that’ll do the same thing.”
“No, didn’t think to bring something like that up. So what am I supposed to do, say Hela’s name three times or something?”
“Oh no; once should be enough,” Loki says as she checks out the contents of the refrigerator. Mikel rolls his eyes.
“And if it doesn’t work?” he asks his dad.
“We’ll worry about it then.”
“Fine.” Mikel clicks off the call and dropped it back in place. Holding his free hand, Mikel says, “Come on, Jake; let’s see if we can get your sister to drop by for a visit.”
A shot of cold shouldn’t have been what he needed to wake up but the burst from the dog seems to have done the trick. That, or the sudden presence of the kids. The one with the gun didn’t look any older than Q though his eyes are those of an experienced killer. Bond knows what those eyes look like after all; he’s seen them enough times in the mirror.
The other two kids though…why the hell would Fury want them to bring M here if they were here too?
As it registers that the kids are heading upstairs, Bond rises from his chair. He almost drops right back down but catches himself on the edge of the table as he croaks out, “Not a good idea.” He’s surprised for the second time tonight when the blue haired kid says, “It’s okay; the dead won’t hurt us.” Jake seems uncertain after he says that when Bond just stares at him and he looks up at Mikel and whispers, “That’s why you’re calling Hela right? Someone died?”
“What?” Bond asks.
“Yes,” the man who bought the kids in says. “That’s why we’re calling your sister, Jake.” When Bond looks at him, he finds the man has put on a frilly apron and is carrying a bowl that’s full of something liquid that’s hot enough to steam the air above it. “And they’ll be fine, Mr. Bond. Death is simply a natural part of life; they know that.” He sets the bowl down on the table in front of Bond and grins. Behind him, Bond can hear the three kids walking away.
Bond looks at the bowl then back at the man. “What do you expect me to do with that?”
“I expect you to dine Mr. Bond!” A more serious expression crosses the man’s face. “You need to get your core temperature up.” He turns and walks back to the counter. “A dip in the moor doesn’t bother me any but it’s not something a Midgardian should be doing especially at this time of the year.”
“A what?” Bond rubs his forehead, there’s a headache settling in behind his eyeballs and the room was beginning to get a little bright, then asks, “Who the hell are you?”
“Ah, forgive me—I wasn’t expecting guests. I’m Loki; welcome to our humble abode.” He flashes another grin at Bond then waves a hand. Food appears out of nowhere on the counter. “Can I interest you in a steak, Graeme?”
Bond slowly sinks into his chair as Graeme answers yes. His stomach growls as he stares at the bowl. He only knows the basics of Fury’s file but it did mention that Fury was married to someone named Loki and that she was the mother of two of his children—a boy and a girl— though he never bothered to check their names. There was also a note about another son named Jacob Fury the III who was listed as deceased. He can’t remember anything about a third son. He glances at Kincade who just shrugs his shoulders.
“You were born here, boy,” he says as he picks up the silverware Loki has set down to cut into the steak, “you should be used to it.”
“I didn’t stay, remember,” Bond answers.
“You really think that makes a difference?”
“Obviously not,” Bond mutters as he picks up a spoon and digs in. The broth does start thawing the cold that has settled into his bones and the bowl is empty before he knows it. Loki swaps the bowl with a full one without a word and Bond just starts scooping out the contents since he’s got nothing better to do.
It’s not until he’s halfway through his second bowl that his mind starts thawing out. He pauses and stares at his spoon and the dark liquid it holds. He can’t identify what he’s eating and that’s not good.
“You spiked this,” he says then frowns at the slight slur to his words.
“Oh, no,” Loki says, “alcohol is the last thing you need right now.” There’s a metallic click as he taps a metal measuring cup against a large and old ceramic mixing bowl. “I did put a few herbs in it to speed up your healing—that probably what you’re noticing.”
Bond blinks and sucks in a breath. He’d been aware that his fingers were beginning to tingle but had just written that off as the lingering effects of his little swim in the moor. Before he can protest being drugged, he hears footsteps.
Mikel steps into the kitchen but the children are nowhere in sight. He glances at Loki. “I asked Hela if she could watch the kids until this blows over. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No, it’s good.” Loki turns back to whatever it is he’s doing and picks up an egg but freezes and cocks his head to the side. He stands that way for a second then carefully sets the egg down and wipes his hands on his apron as he steps away from the counter. At this point Bond can hear what Loki can; the thump thump of an approaching helicopter. Bond surges out of his chair and past Loki and Mikel.
When he reaches the entrance hall he’s yanked back. His reaction is automatic; he twists to break the hold and brings his hand up to drive the heel of his hand into the face of whoever has grabbed him. The move is blocked and Mikel shoves him against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of Bond. Gasping, Bond tries to push off the wall but Mikel pins him in place with an arm across his throat. The kid leans into him and Bond bares his teeth as Mikel snarls, “Dad obviously wants you out of sight so your ass is staying right here until he says otherwise.”
They stare at each other, neither giving an inch, until a gruff voice says, “You can let him go now.” Mikel scowls then quickly backs off. Bond yanks his coat back into place without breaking eye contact with Mikel then balls his hand up into a fist. Mikel shifts his stance and narrows his eyes but before either of them can make a move, Fury steps between them.
When the Sky Falls
To a Scot, the past clings like sand to wet feet and is carried about as a burden.
The many ghosts are always a part of them, inescapable.
Geddes MacGregor
1.
“Ah, hell.”
The words sap the last of the strength out of Bond and he curls, exhausted, over the body in his arms. He doesn’t bother to look at the speaker; he knows who it is. He’s heard Fury’s voice arguing with M’s over the coms enough times to recognize it in real life. It was a voice he’d learned to trust. Not that it mattered anymore.
“Colonel,” Kincade says.
“Graeme,” the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. answers. There’s a jingle of keys then Fury speaks again. “My SUV’s about a quarter mile up the trail. I’ll help ya load these two up; you can hide em out at the cottage while I handle the sight-seers.”
“I’m not sure—“
“Do it,” Bond says, at least he thinks he says it. He’s beginning to shiver and the muscles in his jaw are clenched tight enough that speaking seems more trouble than it’s worth but, going by the silence behind him, he managed to force those few words out.
After a few seconds there is movement; someone moving away from him and someone moving closer. Bond stares down at M’s body and had trouble figuring out why her hair is wet. A shudder drifts through him and he feels himself drifting as his teeth clatter together.
“This is Eagle Eye.” Bond jerks slightly at the sound of Fury’s voice. It’s closer than he’s expecting it to be.
“Jamming…” Bond points out then blinks up at the handheld in Fury’s hand when the man moves into his line of sight.
“Borrowed his,” Fury says. “Need a cleanup team at my location. Don’t let anyone within five klicks of the place.” He scowls and turns slightly as he snaps, “I don’t give a damn what MI6 says. Tie them up till I say so.” Bond can just hear the voice on the other end of Fury’s call. They don’t sound happy. “Remind them I bought the place and they can just kiss my ass.”
Bond barks out a laugh. It almost ends with a sob but he bites down on the outburst before that happens.
There’s a click when Fury shuts off the cell, a rustle of fabric, then something heavy is set across his shoulders. Probably Fury’s coat though it’s too much of an effort now to lift his head to look. When Fury crouches down where Bond can see him, Bond’s still not sure. Thoughts are slowing down and he can’t remember if Fury even had a coat on when he looked at the man.
Another shudder runs through him and he half expects to hear the crackle of ice when he moves his head. “Sorry for blowing up your…” Bond runs out of breath and has to focus on breathing a few seconds before he can finish with, “your investment.”
“Eh, some ruins’ll give it character.” Fury reaches out and holds his hand over M’s lips. Bond frowns as he watches him do it. “Let me take her,” Fury says as he pulls back.
Bond doesn’t answer; he just stares at M’s face. He’s not sure he can let go even if he wants too. Fury takes the decision out of his hand and gently picks her up.
“Can you carry her so I can get him moving?”
“I got her.”
Without M in his arms, Bond is tempted to let gravity have its way and just lie down on the cold stones. Fury takes that decision out of his hands too. He’s pulls to his feet but resists for a second when he catches sight of Kincade slowly limping out of the chapel with M cradled in his arms.
“Why?” he asks as he tries to look up at Fury.
“She deserves better than to end up the center of an investigation,” Fury answers as he pulls one of Bond’s arms across his shoulder and starts dragging him along. Bond feels the urge to argue but he has to pay attention to where his feet are going. He only spares a second to glance at Silva—good, he staying down—then just goes back to putting one foot in front of the other.
When he’s shoved into the front passenger seat, there’s a sense of surprise. Bond’s not sure he’s happy about that. Surprise means he’s beginning to move one and he’s not ready to do that just yet. He gives Fury a dark look as the man closes the door. Fury ignores it completely.
“The pass key will disarm the security system,” Bond hears Fury telling Kincade when the driver’s side door is open. “You can put her in the first bedroom on the left.”
“Right.” Kincade climbs in and starts the engine. “You okay there, boy?”
“Peachy,” Bond answers as he leans against the window. He can see lights bobbing up the Glen.
“Oh good,” he says. “Here comes the cavalry.”
When Mikel spots his dad’s Land Rover backed up to the front door he shuts off the headlights on his SUV, slows it down to a crawl, and flips on the vehicle’s HUD. Since he borrowed this SUV out of the Torchwood garage, he’s got more information that he’d get on a military grade vehicle. The good news is that within a two kilometer radius there are no heat sources, beyond small game, being picked up. The bad news is that the stone of the so called cottage is too thick for the scanners to pierce.
Once he’s close enough, Mikel kills the engine and they coast the last few meters, blocking in the parked SUV. When they come to a stop Loki, sitting in the passenger seat, shifts then settles. Mikel knows he’s being watched as he pulls out his cell and tries calling his dad.
“No luck?” Loki breathes out when he frowns and puts the cell back in his pocket.
“No.” Glancing in the rear view mirror, Mikel can just see his little brother and sister. Both Jake and Aislynn are asleep; Jake’s only still upright because of his seatbelt while Aislynn—still young enough to be strapped into a carseat—is doubled over with her face buried into the blue stuffed thing she refers to as Kitty but looks more like a lizard to Mikel. Between them Loki’s dog Tinkerbell meets Mikel’s gaze in the mirror; the little terrier’s eyes flashing green in the darkness.
As he pulls his gun out of his holster and pops the door open, Loki says, “Be careful.” Mikel nods his head.
When he gets to the front of the house he finds the security system is off. Slipping inside he pauses a moment and listens. He can hear someone in the kitchen but the rest of the house is quiet. Mikel considers calling out just in case it is just dad, quickly discards the idea, and steps into the kitchen, gun raised. He quickly sights on the two men sitting at the table. One, an older man with a mildly surprised look on his face, Mikel immediately recognizes. The second whose blue eyes are flat and disinterested when they glance at the gun pointed at them takes Mikel a few seconds longer to identify. He sighs and lets the gun drop to his side.
“Kincade,” he says with a nod to the older man. “Bond,” he says to the other. That brings a flicker of emotion to Bond’s face. He frowns and glances at Kincade as the man returns the nod and says, “Mikel.” He leans towards Bond to say in an undertone, “Fury’s son.”
Bond turns back towards him as he slips the gun away. “You work for SHIELD.” There’s an undertone to Bond’s rough voice that sends a shiver of recognition through Mikel but he ignores it as he picks up the home phone out of its cradle and punches in a code.
“No, Torchwood.” Bond frowns at that. Turning to Kincade Mikel asks, “I’m guessing you know where dad is? I’m assuming he’s not here.”
“No, he’s not. He’s…” Kincade stops as if unsure how to explain it.
“Putting out a fire,” Mikel mutters and gets a nod just as Mala, his father’s secretary, picks up. “Mala,” he says, “I need you to patch me through to dad.” Sensing a protest, he adds, “I’ve got a wet 007 sitting in the kitchen and dad nowhere in sight.”
“Right,” she says, “give me a minute to get a connection up.”
Before that could happen, there was a shout outside then a rapid clicking sound—claws on hardwood. Mikel makes a grab for the little furry mass running by but misses. “Tinkerbell!” he snaps as the terrier skids around Bond’s chair and rears up on her hind legs to rest her front paws on Bond’s leg. She gives a happy bark then sneezes a puff of snow on Bond.
That results in a stronger reaction. “What the hell,” Bond says as he rears back, lifting his arms as he stared down at the melting whiteness on his leg.”
“Believe that’s called snow,” Kincade offers.
“I know what the hell it is,” Bond shoots back. “What’s it doing coming out of a dog?”
“Better hope that’s all that comes out,” Mikel says and gets a dirty look for that comment.
Before he can add anything else, the connection goes through. “Let me guess,” Mikel’s father says says without bothering with hello. “You’re at the cottage.”
“Yeah, I’m at the cottage. I take it you found Silva?” He knows he’s right when Bond’s dirty look turns to a murderous one.
There’s a pause then: “How’d ya know about that?”
“A shootout at an inquiry involving the head of MI6? That tends to get even Torchwood’s attention.”
“Uh huh. Where’s Loki and the kids?”
“Here,” he answers. He can hear Loki just outside the kitchen and raises his voice slightly. “Do you want to talk to him, dad?” That pulls Loki in; he’s carrying a still sleeping Aislynn in one arm and holding a blinking and confused Jake with the other. Loki gives Bond and Kincade a small tight smile then raises an eyebrow in question. “Yeah; put him on.”
Mikel nods his head and trades the phone for Aislynn. His sister lets out a sleepy protest, opens one eye to see who she’d been handed off to, then lets her head fall against Mikel’s shoulder and she’s out again. Jake presses up against Loki and watches his mother with wide eyes. Over at the kitchen table, Bond has a puzzled scowl on his face as he looks at Loki and Jake. Mikel is sure part of his puzzlement is Jake’s bright blue hair.
Mikel’s attention returns to Loki when he turns and steps out of the kitchen though Mikel—and probably Kincade and Bond can still hear him. “She won’t come, Nick,” he says, his voice heavy with guilt. Jake leans against one leg and hugs Loki’s legs or at least as much as he can reach. A small sad smile crosses Loki’s face as he brushes Jake’s hair back from his face.
“No, that’s not something I can do but…” Loki glances at Mikel then seems to brighten. “She might come if Mikel calls her though. She likes him.” Mikel narrows his eyes as Loki steps back into the kitchen. ‘Yes, here; let me put him back on.” He hands Mikel the phone. “Your dad has a request.” He then turns to the two men at the table to ask brightly, “Anyone hungry?”
Shaking his head, Mikel lifts the phone to his ear, “Who am I calling?” he asks.
“Hela,” his father answers. “M’s up in the first spare bedroom. Need you to ask Hela to put her in stasis until I figure things out unless ya brought something from Torchwood that’ll do the same thing.”
“No, didn’t think to bring something like that up. So what am I supposed to do, say Hela’s name three times or something?”
“Oh no; once should be enough,” Loki says as she checks out the contents of the refrigerator. Mikel rolls his eyes.
“And if it doesn’t work?” he asks his dad.
“We’ll worry about it then.”
“Fine.” Mikel clicks off the call and dropped it back in place. Holding his free hand, Mikel says, “Come on, Jake; let’s see if we can get your sister to drop by for a visit.”
A shot of cold shouldn’t have been what he needed to wake up but the burst from the dog seems to have done the trick. That, or the sudden presence of the kids. The one with the gun didn’t look any older than Q though his eyes are those of an experienced killer. Bond knows what those eyes look like after all; he’s seen them enough times in the mirror.
The other two kids though…why the hell would Fury want them to bring M here if they were here too?
As it registers that the kids are heading upstairs, Bond rises from his chair. He almost drops right back down but catches himself on the edge of the table as he croaks out, “Not a good idea.” He’s surprised for the second time tonight when the blue haired kid says, “It’s okay; the dead won’t hurt us.” Jake seems uncertain after he says that when Bond just stares at him and he looks up at Mikel and whispers, “That’s why you’re calling Hela right? Someone died?”
“What?” Bond asks.
“Yes,” the man who bought the kids in says. “That’s why we’re calling your sister, Jake.” When Bond looks at him, he finds the man has put on a frilly apron and is carrying a bowl that’s full of something liquid that’s hot enough to steam the air above it. “And they’ll be fine, Mr. Bond. Death is simply a natural part of life; they know that.” He sets the bowl down on the table in front of Bond and grins. Behind him, Bond can hear the three kids walking away.
Bond looks at the bowl then back at the man. “What do you expect me to do with that?”
“I expect you to dine Mr. Bond!” A more serious expression crosses the man’s face. “You need to get your core temperature up.” He turns and walks back to the counter. “A dip in the moor doesn’t bother me any but it’s not something a Midgardian should be doing especially at this time of the year.”
“A what?” Bond rubs his forehead, there’s a headache settling in behind his eyeballs and the room was beginning to get a little bright, then asks, “Who the hell are you?”
“Ah, forgive me—I wasn’t expecting guests. I’m Loki; welcome to our humble abode.” He flashes another grin at Bond then waves a hand. Food appears out of nowhere on the counter. “Can I interest you in a steak, Graeme?”
Bond slowly sinks into his chair as Graeme answers yes. His stomach growls as he stares at the bowl. He only knows the basics of Fury’s file but it did mention that Fury was married to someone named Loki and that she was the mother of two of his children—a boy and a girl— though he never bothered to check their names. There was also a note about another son named Jacob Fury the III who was listed as deceased. He can’t remember anything about a third son. He glances at Kincade who just shrugs his shoulders.
“You were born here, boy,” he says as he picks up the silverware Loki has set down to cut into the steak, “you should be used to it.”
“I didn’t stay, remember,” Bond answers.
“You really think that makes a difference?”
“Obviously not,” Bond mutters as he picks up a spoon and digs in. The broth does start thawing the cold that has settled into his bones and the bowl is empty before he knows it. Loki swaps the bowl with a full one without a word and Bond just starts scooping out the contents since he’s got nothing better to do.
It’s not until he’s halfway through his second bowl that his mind starts thawing out. He pauses and stares at his spoon and the dark liquid it holds. He can’t identify what he’s eating and that’s not good.
“You spiked this,” he says then frowns at the slight slur to his words.
“Oh, no,” Loki says, “alcohol is the last thing you need right now.” There’s a metallic click as he taps a metal measuring cup against a large and old ceramic mixing bowl. “I did put a few herbs in it to speed up your healing—that probably what you’re noticing.”
Bond blinks and sucks in a breath. He’d been aware that his fingers were beginning to tingle but had just written that off as the lingering effects of his little swim in the moor. Before he can protest being drugged, he hears footsteps.
Mikel steps into the kitchen but the children are nowhere in sight. He glances at Loki. “I asked Hela if she could watch the kids until this blows over. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No, it’s good.” Loki turns back to whatever it is he’s doing and picks up an egg but freezes and cocks his head to the side. He stands that way for a second then carefully sets the egg down and wipes his hands on his apron as he steps away from the counter. At this point Bond can hear what Loki can; the thump thump of an approaching helicopter. Bond surges out of his chair and past Loki and Mikel.
When he reaches the entrance hall he’s yanked back. His reaction is automatic; he twists to break the hold and brings his hand up to drive the heel of his hand into the face of whoever has grabbed him. The move is blocked and Mikel shoves him against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of Bond. Gasping, Bond tries to push off the wall but Mikel pins him in place with an arm across his throat. The kid leans into him and Bond bares his teeth as Mikel snarls, “Dad obviously wants you out of sight so your ass is staying right here until he says otherwise.”
They stare at each other, neither giving an inch, until a gruff voice says, “You can let him go now.” Mikel scowls then quickly backs off. Bond yanks his coat back into place without breaking eye contact with Mikel then balls his hand up into a fist. Mikel shifts his stance and narrows his eyes but before either of them can make a move, Fury steps between them.