Originally posted on 09/27/14 at: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10719590/1/I-NEVER-Miss
"I NEVER MISS"
James Bond, codename 007. For those that knew his name, they never forgot it. After all, it wasn't every day that one ran into an ex-British secret agent that worked for the legendary MI6. Heavy emphasis on the ex part.
Yes, after a lengthy career, James Bond had finally retired from the secret service. He'd attempted it before, though he never followed it through, but now he finally did it. His superior, codename M, wasn't happy about it though. There had been various Ms that he had answered to over the years, and although none of them seemed to like him much, they all agreed that he was the best there was.
Well, that was just too bad. For a long time now, James had loyally served the British government, defending both crown and country, even the entire world. For most of his life, he had thought that it would be all he would ever be doing. It had been all he had wanted to do, even when he wasn't physically or mentally fit to be doing it at the time.
But there eventually came a time where enough was enough. He had seen too many people die, failed to save too many innocents, some of them friends, some of them allies, and some of them lovers. And he himself had killed more people than he could count, all in the line of duty. Even his best friend, Felix Leiter, an agent of the CIA, had lost an arm, half a leg, and his wife because of their work.
Not that there weren't many perks or rewards that came along with the job. For one thing, the pay rate was great. In fact, James had several million dollars in his bank account, accumulated from his years in the secret service. Then there was the rewarding feeling of having saved so many lives, the fun of getting to play with numerous secret gadgets, and the wonders of traveling to various places around the world. Not to mention the girls.
Oh, yes, James loved the ladies, and the ladies certainly loved him. As skilled in the field of seduction as he was, he'd had more than his far share of lovers over the years, to the point where many would call him a man-whore.
It was just a shame that he had commitment issues. Though he could have had any pick of the litter, he always left them in the end. In his defense, a large part of it was due to his job taking him all around the world at any given moment. Another part of it was how those he loved tended to end up dead because of him, and he just couldn't stand that. But out of all his lovers, only two of them had ever truly won his heart.
The first and foremost was the lovely Vesper Lynd from his very first long-term mission as a 00 agent. He'd loved her more than anything, but she had been forced to betray him by the criminal organization known as Quantum. Unable to live with the guilt of her betrayal, even though it was forced upon her, she refused to let James save her, and she died from drowning. But she had always stayed deeply imbedded in his heart. It was even from her name that he got his favorite alcoholic drink; a vesper martini, shaken, not stirred. And though there were other women that he had gotten rather close to, none had ever gotten a hold of his heart like she did.
The other girl he had truly come to love was the widowed Teresa di Vicenzo. Preferred to be called Tracy, since she felt as if the name Teresa did not suit her, she had been a suicidal wreck when he first met her after the death of her daughter. At the request of her father, more like bribery actually, he had gotten to know Tracy as he helped her get over her depression, and she helped him in his latest mission. And so he had grown to love her. Though his heart was permanently stamped with Vesper's name, he came to realize that he could still love another. And so, once again at the request of her father, even though it may have been rushed, the two of them were married. But, sadly, that very same day, Tracy was shot down in an attempt to assassinate James by Irma Bunt, a subordinate of his arch-nemesis Ernst Stavro Blofeld, head of the criminal organization SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion).
James had gotten his revenge on both organizations, and their leaders. In fact, killing Blofeld had been one of the most satisfying moments of his life. Though taking down such evil groups had made the world a much better place, the deaths of the two women he loved had more or less ruined him from ever truly opening his heart to anyone else ever again. True, there had been other love interests over the years, but never quite like Vesper and Tracy.
Well, maybe that wasn't exactly true. If there was one other woman that he could love as much as Vesper or Tracy, it was the beautiful Eve Moneypenny. Formerly a field agent before taking a desk job as M's secretary, the two of them had danced around each other for many years, making flirtatious comments to one another, and acting like the couple they were not. But, much to James' regret, they never consummated their relationship, even though both were very eager and willing. The only other women that that had happened with was the beautiful Camille Montes, who he had passed up on with Vesper's death still so fresh in his mind, the psychotic Xenia Onatopp, and the far too young Bibi Dahl.
Perhaps, subconsciously, he had been afraid of getting too close to the lovely Miss Moneypenny after the way the last two women he loved had gotten killed because of him. Having a third person he cared so much about die because of him just might have killed him as well. But now that he was retired, maybe he and her could finally pursue an actual relationship without the possibility of somebody killing one of them.
Just then, his cellphone went off. Good timing. He had just turned his cellphone on as he got off his flight, and was now making his way to the gate with all the other exiting passengers.
Answering it, he held the phone up to his ear, and, still used to his 00 ways, simply said, "Bond here."
"Hello, James," came a familiar female voice. "How was your flight?"
Well, speak of the devil. A smile grazed James' face. "Moneypenny, how are you today?"
"Truthfully, feeling a bit of regret and relief that you're no longer with us. I must admit that, as infuriating as you are at times, I did enjoy our moments together."
Ah, so the flirtatious game that they played was still on. "My dear Moneypenny, you know that not having the pleasure of your company as often as I would like will be the hardest thing about my retirement. Are you sure you wouldn't care to join me?"
He could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "I am quite content where I am, thank you. I prefer to remain active. I'm sure you remember what that is like."
Oh yes, only too well. "Then perhaps a holiday. I'm sure M will allow you some time off after all your hard work."
"That doesn't seem likely. I'm afraid the warden has been in a right foul mood ever since you turned in your resignation."
"Well, we must all throw in the towel at some point, my dear."
He hesitated. That may have been the wrong thing for him to say. After all, the whole reason why she had decided that she wasn't cut out to be a field agent and became M's secretary was because she couldn't cope after accidentally shooting him during a botched mission. He would normally pass it off as a joke, saying that she had secretly been attempting to 'shoot him through the heart', so to speak.
"By the way," he added, attempting to steer the conversation in a less sensitive direction, "how did you know the right time to call me? My flight had just gotten in a short while ago, and I had only just turned on my phone. Surely you're not using MI6's resources to stalk me. Why, Moneypenny, I didn't know you cared so much."
He could practically hear her eyes rolling from the other side of the phone line. "Hardly, James. You turning on your phone just now was simply a coincidence, and checking what time a flight comes in is hardly something only those in the Q Branch are capable of."
Ah, yes, the Q Branch, the research and development division of the British Secret Service. Short for Quartermaster, his trusted friend Q had been the one responsible for supplying him with all the fancy spyware, and not the kind for computers. You couldn't find things like watches with built in lasers or remote control cars that could project a hologram of their surroundings to make them appear invisible from Radio Shack.
Just as there had been numerous Ms during his years of service, there had also been numerous Qs, and he would miss them all. He'd always been on good terms with whichever Q had assisted him, even jokingly referring to one of the new ones as R. The Q Branch had indeed done a lot for him, and he could honestly say that they had saved his life on numerous occasions with their little inventions. They'd even given him advanced facial reconstruction surgery no less than five times when his identity had been compromised by an enemy that had managed to escape them indefinitely. Yes, this was indeed his sixth face. It was something that even Moneypenny had to have done four times, and his friend Felix had to have done six when their identities were compromised as well.
Ah, the things they did for their countries. Indeed, much was required, and even more sacrificed, to be in the secret service, and hardly anyone outside of it was ever made aware of your noble deeds.
"How is our good friend, Q, doing?" he asked jokingly. "Is he taking my retirement well? Glad that 007 won't be trying out his newest contraptions right there in front of him?"
Moneypenny cleared her throat. "That's actually what I'm calling to tell you about. Or perhaps I should say warn you. You see, now that you're retired, there have been a few… secrets about you that have been brought to light. Q showed me the proof, and it has indeed been confirmed, so I just thought that I should let you know before you found out on your own."
James stopped, ignoring the crowd of people that were now forced to walk around him, a frown crossing his face. It seemed the flirting game they were playing had been put on pause, and they were now getting to the real matter at hand.
"Warn me about what?" he asked carefully, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice. "What secrets?"
All playfulness disappeared from Moneypenny's tone. "Anything that may distract you from a mission, put us in a compromising situation, or endanger the lives of innocents. I'm pretty sure you know by now that MI6 is not above doing some pretty shady and questionable things if it's for the greater good, or the safety of the public. Even if that means not telling you of any living relatives you may have. But now that you're retired, M has given the ok to let your remaining kin know of who and where you are at their request once the Q Branch confirmed who they were."
James hesitantly began moving with the crowd again. He understood the secrecy part, but the rest didn't make any sense. His parent were dead, and he hadn't seen or heard from his aunt from his father's side for many years. "I'm not following you, Moneypenny. I don't have any other family."
"Not that you were made aware of. Who they were was kept from you, along with who and where you were from them. None of the Ms wanted the information to get out so it could be used against you, or cause you distraction."
This was shocking news to James. Not the fact that any of the Ms had kept such information from him, his superiors had proven to be right bastards on several occasions, willing to be deceitful or cruel if it meant the success of a mission, including knowingly sending an agent to their death. No, what shocked him was that if what Moneypenny said was true, he actually had family that was still alive. And if the Q Branch tested and confirmed it, then it must be true. But who could it be? Was his aunt still alive somewhere? Did he have a cousin or two? Or maybe he had a long lost sibling that his parents had given up for adoption, and he had simply never been made aware of it.
"What are you saying? What family?"
"What family do you think?" she suddenly snapped, not even attempting to keep the irritation and jealousy out of her voice. That was strange, for what reason would she be jealous of his family? "Good lord, James, I always knew you were a womanizer, but I didn't realize you were that bad!"
James still didn't understand what she was talking about, but once he turned the corner to make the final stretch to the end of the terminal, it all became clear. The sight before him had him frozen in place. Nothing could have possibly prepared him for what he saw. Standing by the gate with all the other people waiting for family and friends to exit the terminal was a large group of women, each one just as beautiful as the last. Memories came flooding back as he looked the woman over. He remembered each and every one of them, some more fondly than others, some less vividly than others.
Among the ones he remembered the most, there was Honeychile Rider (aka 'Honey' for short), Tatiana Romanova (aka 'Tania' for short), Pussy Galore, Dominique Derval (aka 'Domino' for short), Kissy Suzuki, Tiffany Case, Simone Latrelle (aka 'Solitaire' by reputation), Mary Goodnight, Anya Amasova (codename Agent XXX), Holly Goodhead, Melina Havelock, Octavia Charlotte Smythe (aka 'Octopussy' by reputation), Stacy Sutton, Kara Milovy (codename Trigger), Pam Bouvier, Natalya Simonova, Wai Lin, Christmas Jones, and Giacinta Johnson (aka 'Jinx' by reputation).
Though these were the ones he remembered most fondly, they weren't the only ones waiting for him. He certainly recalled his time with Patricia Fearing, Ruby Bartlett, Mademoiselle La Porte, Kimberley Jones, Pola Ivanova, Lupe Lamora, Inga Bergstrom, and Molly Warmflesh. And then there were the few he hadn't known as well, such as Zora, Vida, Bonita, Ling, Nancy, Miss Caruso, Manuela, Magda, Bianca, and Caroline.
A few names he struggled to remember, like the Arabian harem girl, the girl from the yacht (who he just now recalled was named Linda), and the woman he was with before he returned to the field to deal with Raoul Silva (whose name he couldn't for the life of him remember). Even his most recent conquests, Zoë Nightshade, Alura McCall, Serena St. Germaine, and Mýa Starling were there. But the two he was the most surprised to see were Miss Taro (the now out of jail former secretary/spy for the late Dr. Julius No), and the girl from log cabin in the French Alps (a former KGB agent who he just remembered was named Martine Blanchaud).
How had all these women found him? Did M really tell them where he would be? They must have tried to get in contact with him, and had only recently been informed of where he was going to be because of his retirement. They each held a sign that read JAMES BOND, all the while throwing jealous looks at each other. Some of the women obviously wouldn't recognize him since he'd had plastic surgery five times, hence the reason for the signs, just in case he didn't remember them.
Over the phone, Moneypenny noticed that he had gone quiet, and that there had been a notable change in his breathing. "James? Are you still there? Is everything all right?" After a few seconds of silence, she seemed to have figured it out. "You see them, don't you?" Now she almost sounded smug, as if he was getting exactly what he deserved. "They're all waiting for you to take responsibility."
He could see that for himself. But it wasn't entirely the sight of the women that had him frozen in his tracks. It was the fact that each and every one of them had at least one child with her. The children were all of different ages, the oldest being in their late teens, some of them being twins, and there was even a set of triplets!
"They're all yours," Moneypenny continued. "The DNA paternity tests from the Q Branch has confirmed it, and you know how thorough they are."
She didn't need to tell him that. He didn't doubt the Q Branch. Besides, he could see the truth for himself. As part of his training as an agent, he had been taught to recognize people in any way and every way, and he was seeing distinct features in each of the children that told him that they were indeed his. Be it eye color, hair color, the shape of their ears or nose, or the build of their body; whether they were a boy or a girl, each had they're own feature that identified them as a James or Jamie Bond Jr.
"M never told you so they couldn't be used against you, and so they wouldn't be a distraction to you. Apparently, their mothers kept asking to get in contact with you, but they kept getting the brush off. They were told it was for their own safety, and yours. However, now that you're retired, your whereabouts no longer need to remain a secret from them. I guess it's a good thing you've accumulated so much cash over the years, and I know where a great deal of it is going. For god sake, James, after all those gadgets and gizmos you used during you career, hadn't you ever once used a simply bloody condom?"
As a secret agent with a license to kill, condoms hadn't exactly been high on his list of priorities when he was on life or death missions. And he never really made any plans in advance to sleep with the women he did, it just kind of happened along the way. When in a career like his, one that required a great deal of killing and watching others die, people tended to take comfort where they could get it.
Besides, after the way Le Chiffre had assaulted his package, he hadn't even been sure he could still father children anymore, nor did he ever bother to check to make sure, preferring to put that whole situation behind him.
Seeing all these women and children made him think of his other lovers that he had either failed to protect, or who proved to be working for his enemies and had to be taken out. His mind ran through a list of faces and names from over the years. Strawberry Fields, Sévérine, Jill Masterson, Fiona Volpe, Aki, Helga Brandt, Rosie Carver, Andrea Anders, Corinne Dufour, Countess Lisl von Schlaf, May Day, Paris Carver, Elektra King, Miranda Frost, and Dominique Paradis.
My god, how many of them had he gotten pregnant as well before they met their untimely end? Were they all carrying his child as well when they were killed, even Vesper and Tracy? As far as he knew, none of them had been on the pill while he was with them, and conception could occur in as soon as a few hours after the act. Being a good shot was one thing, but hitting them all, and at the right time?
It seemed that what he had told Elektra just after he shot her was true in more ways than one: I never miss.
Over the phone, Moneypenny had her final say on the matter. "I certainly hope you'll get over your commitment issues, James, because it looks like you're going to have a great many of them from here on out."
He didn't answer, he was still in shock, and the phone finally slipped from in between his ear and his limp hand. On the other end of the line, Moneypenny gave the phone a strange look as she heard the impact of the phone hitting the ground.
"James?" she asked uncertainly.
But he made no move to pick it up, and a passerby accidentally stepped on it, breaking it and the connection.
"Aww, hell, I'm sorry man," the person said as they continued on their way.
The words seemed to snap James out of his stupor. Amongst all the people exiting the terminal, none of the women had spotted him yet, at least none of the ones that would recognize him with his current face.
Doing a complete 180, James headed back down the way he came to catch the next returning flight. He hoped MI6 would take him back, because, suddenly, retirement didn't seem like it would be all that great.