Chapter 11

Sirens wailed as more emergency vehicles arrived at the scene to search for bodies in what had been an explosion caused by an accidental fire in the technical area of the great Russian theatre.

Or at least that's what the press would be told.

The truth was, Jane Moneypenny had been issued with an extra special costume for the ballet. One that included an emergency catch at the back of her corseted torso. The button needed a certain amount of pressure applied to it in a sequence which she had been taught, so there was no danger of it accidentally being used. This catch sent a signal back to The Office to alert them to the fact that all was not well at theatre and, knowing of Devorsky's plans and nature, they ordered the Moscow units to stand by.

After evacuating all other patrons from the theatre, it was decided that the risk of the button being pressed in retaliation to a surprise attack was too great, and the consequences, unthinkable. And so, much to the disgust of many emminent architects, the building was destroyed.

Now all that was left to do, was to recover the survivors, or corpses, of the explosion, as quickly as possible.

Bond was the first to emerge, having thrown himself under a large metal machine during the blast, which had, to an extent, shielded him from the falling debris. He escaped virtually unscathed from the incident, with only a few deep cuts and mild concussion.

His emotional state, however, was less healthy.

"I know she's in there somewhere!" he argued with a fellow colleague, who had suggested perhaps they call it a day.

"James, it's been three hours, you know how slim the chances are now. . ." he trailed off, unsure of what to say, as James turned and headed back to the pile of rubble which had been just hours ago, the room where she had been tied to a small wooden chair; from which she could not have moved during the blast.

After another heartbreaking hour of finding nothing but the two guards who had been at the door, Bond suddenly spotted a delicate, porcelain skinned hand amongst the wreckage.

"Jane!" he whispered as he moved towards her, almost in a trance. His legs began to run, but his mind was still focussed purely on the sight of her hand, so white against the ugly, scorched mess.

He reached her and cried or help from the few volunteers who still remained, as they rushed over to help remove, piece by piece, the metal that had shielded her.

Cradling her seemingly lifeless form in his arms, James felt his eyes well with tears as he ran a dirtied hand down her cheek.

So cold he thought to himself not at all like the Jane I know. You were always so full of life, please don't leave like this, come back to me darling, come back to your favourite 00.

"We'll dance together every night, I promise, and I'll play the piano for you. And I'll make you the coffee that you love so much. Please, darling, please," he begged, his voice just a whisper.

The paramedics rushed to where they were stood and began to assess her vital signs.

"I cannot find a pulse," one said.

Oh please, please James silently prayed, whilst they tried again.

"Wait . . . It's very, very weak, but it's there! Let's get her to the hospital quickly!!"

Feeling a little colder himself, as Jane was wrenched from his arms, James breathed a sigh of relief and turned to join her in the ambulance. As he did so, he saw a figure limping away from the scene. A distinctly arrogant, Russian figure.

Drawing his gun, Bond aimed and, in one satisfying movement, gunned Devorsky down.

As the figure fell, James turned, motioned to his colleague to take care of the body and joined the figures in the ambulance.

He now knew what mattered most.

Staying true to his word, Bond held her close in his arms and swayed slowly to the soft music filtering through the crisp night air.

He pulled her closer as she shivered, and chuckled when he heard her mutterings, "whose stupid idea was it to throw Bill a birthday party on a rooftop terrace? It's bloody November for heavens' sake."

"Now, now," James chided, "you know that you wouldn't have missed it for the world. Besides, you've got me to keep you warm and you have shown no desire to move from the dance floor."

"Perhaps not," she said, looking up at him, "but I can think of better ways to keep warm, can't you?"

Smiling devilishly, she raised her lips slowly towards his, sighed and settled her head on his shoulder.

"Still such a tease eh Penny?"

"No James, as you well know, these days I make good on my innuendos, but we both agreed that public displays of affection were not on the cards just yet."

"But practically everyone has already figured it out, why can't we just admit to them that we care deeply and passionately about one another . . And that the sex is great?"

As James smirked at his own last comment, Jane ignored it and answered simply, "because then we would have to admit it to ourselves."

She removed herself from his arms and immediately he noticed how cold he felt without her there. As the beautiful woman in the midnight blue gown started towards the door to exit the roof, he pulled her back by the arm.

"I already have, Jane, and I know that you have too, so why can't we stop playing games?" he asked, the frustration and anger in him now becoming evident.

She took in the look in his eyes before whispering, through unshed tears, "not here."

James needed no more encouragement and took hold of her hand, leading her through the emergency door and down the steps of the official building, towards her office. Not a word was spoken, each party preferring to conserve their strength for what they knew was going to be a rather long heart to heart.

Upon reaching the office, James guided Moneypenny gently to her chair, before leaning casually on the desk in front of her.

"So, you're still not sure about us, eh love?"

There came no reply, so he continued, "really? I mean after everything we have been through in the last few months . ."

Jane groaned, audibly, in frustration at the thought of having to have the conversation which hse had been dreading.

"Oh James, I'm sorry, I know how crazy this must be making you. It's just that, like I said, if we told everyone what is going on between us and then . . . .something happened, I just -"

"Something? You mean the missions?

He sensed Jane's hesitation, as she cast her eyes downward.

"It's not the job. Something else?" James braced himself as his worst fears were confirmed.

"The women James."

Jane raised her eyes to meet his, finally looking straight into those piercing pools of blue.

"The women?" he asked, incredulous that she still didn't seem to trust him.

"Can you honestly tell me that I will ever be enough for you? Just one woman? Just me?"

Bond gave her a half and took her hands into his own.

"Jane Moneypenny," he sighed, "you are more than enough woman for me." She smiled at his slight innuendo; a smile that encouraged him to continue, "darling, there will still be times when I am on a mission and I have to hold a woman a little closer than normal, or kiss her goodnight, but I'm afraid that those things are just part of the job. You know that. If you're asking me to-"

"I would never ask you to leave your job James," she quickly cut in, "it's a part of who you are. Part of who I fell in love with. I've gotten used to the idea of you leaving our bed in the mornings to go and save the world," he laughed at her exaggeration, and did not miss the natural ease of the reference to their shared sleeping quarters, "but the fact that you have never had a monogamous relationship for more than a few weeks . . .well, it worries me."

Silence ensued for a few moments, whilst James contemplated the best response.

"When you were in the hospital in Moscow, and the doctors told me that there was a chance you might not live," his voice quivered slightly as a chill ran don his spine at the memory, "oh Jane, I have seen people die, I have had people, women even, die in my arms, but nothing prepared me for the fear that gripped me at the thought of losing you."

Penny's eyes clouded with tears as James continued, "that night on the balcony, you told me that you didn't know how you would carry on if anything happened to me. Well I feel exactly the same. I know that you think I just can't keep it in my trousers, but the reason I have never settled down, or remained with someone for so long is because . . no-one has ever captivated me heart and soul like you do. You fascinate me, and instead of moving onto someone else because I'm bored; with you, I learn something every day, and that discovery will never end. I promise you."

The tears were falling freely now, as Jane wondered what it was that made her so emotional lately. James reached his hand up to her face, wiping away the tears, as he asked, "so do you think we can work past this now?"

She simply nodded, as he stood, pulling her with him, and into his embrace.

"James," she murmured, her head resting on his shoulder, "I can't promise that I won't be insanely jealous every time you look at an attractive woman."

As he lowered her head to look into her eyes, she smiled and he gently pressed his lips to hers.

Breaking the kiss, he led her towards the open space in the centre of the office.

"I promise, that I will never hurt you, Jane, and we will take it nice and slow. We'll tell everyone when both of us are ready to. Deal?"

"Deal," Jane confirmed, with a kiss of her own.

"Now. Would you care to dance?"

Bond didn't need a vocal answer, he knew that this beautiful woman would never say 'no' to a spin around the dance floor.

And so, the two lovers ended the evening, and began their relationship, with a dance that needed no music. They would find their way together, all they needed was time.