Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I am ripping off from EON, Universal, Sony, Dreamworks, Fox whatever without making any real monetary profit from it. Too bad. XD

Chapter 10: A Femur from the Closet

Bond took in her entire appearance: jeans, a white silk collared blouse, a floral-patterned scarf around her neck, a cheerier shade of lipstick than he had seen her wear in the office, a pair of black sandals and a cheap rattan handbag. So this was M in vacation mode.

He couldn't resist crooking a smile. "Hello, M."

She narrowed her eyes at him but spoke to her husband. "Fred, would you be so kind as to leave us to ourselves?"

Fred immediately got to his feet. The tone of his wife's voice was so sharp that it could have drawn blood. He dropped a light kiss on her cheek before mustering a hasty smile at Bond and scuttled away. M then almost threw her handbag onto the chair he had just vacated and proceeded to sit on it.

"Ah. Fred's at it again," she said rather icily as she picked up a box of Lucky Strike cigarettes from the table. She looked at it in disdain for a while before shrugging, withdrawing a stick from the box. "Have you got a light?"

Bond produced the box of hotel matches that he had nicked earlier. "Not going to offer me one, ma'am?"

M lit the cigarette, chucked the match out of the window, and took a huff before fixing her beady eyes at him. "After all the damage you've caused, do you seriously think I'll offer you a smoke to pacify your nerves? What nerves, you ask? Exactly. You're like a bull who's seeing red all over. You don't care what or who or how you hit."

Bond drew a deep breath. A long line of considerably clever retorts immediately formed in his mind, and he was about to spout them all out, but he checked himself. It wasn't going to do any of them much good anyway. "So what brings you to Mykonos?"

M threw him a sarcastic smile. "Oh heavens, ex-schoolmates now, aren't we, Bond? May I enforce my authority to put you in your place? Oh yes, I may. What are you doing here?"

"Foster directed me here," he replied, holding up the envelope that he had picked up from the hotel counter which contained his cell phone, completely intact and unharmed. "With my mobile as guarantee. And she mentioned that I should meet someone in Mykonos. The moment I saw your husband I couldn't think of anyone else but you. It couldn't be a complete coincidence that she sent my phone all the way from Bucharest to the very hotel that you happen to go into hiding in."

"No, it couldn't," she admitted in a resigned manner as she butted out the cigarette. "Never really liked smoking anyway," she muttered.

From the looks of it, M didn't seem to be aware if she was supposed to play any part in Foster's little treasure hunt. She was just as clueless as he was. Bond was beginning to feel fed up and frustrated. But there had to be something. Foster didn't, and hopefully wouldn't, deliberately send him to M if there wasn't something M knew that she didn't and it would help him.

Then it occurred to him. "Do you know of a man named Ahab Benjadeel?"

She immediately looked sharply back at him, her eyes glinted with a suppressed what-the-hell. "Yes, why?"

Aha.

"Foster mentioned his name as one of Sorescu's business partners. Apparently he's a weapons dealer who committed himself to Sorescu only to pull out of the deal in the last minute. And of course we have to find out why. The problem is she hasn't given me any clue whatsoever as to find him." Bond reached into his pocket and handed Foster's letter, which he had folded and refolded neatly so many times that the creases showed when M opened it. A smirk formed on her face as she finished reading it and handed it back to him. "Snitch," she said with a scoff. "She knew you'd be showing me this letter."

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that joke," said Bond dryly.

"Seven years ago before I threw her into Drakepoint, and yes I used the word 'throw' for a reason, she was a rookie agent who was just like you. Smart and aggressive for all the wrong reasons. Loved to vex us all to no end. But she was a pretty damn good strategist, until the day she got caught in her own setup. Nearly cost three other agents their lives in what was supposed to be a covert operation in Havana."

"Really? Should I be worried?" asked Bond blandly.

"Oh, who knows?" she replied, her tone deliberately high and airy as she leaned back in her chair. "For all you know she could very well be leading you to a 'dead end', and you wouldn't realize it till you're minutes away from it. She's one of the sly, irresistible spiders that you inevitably fall into a trap with, whether you like or love or hate her. I wasn't surprised at all when she got married to Sorescu. She usually gets what she wants, or more than what she wants."

"M," said Bond as sweetly as possible, leaning forward in his chair and smiling dryly, "as much as I appreciate your unnecessary mothering, I should like to think that I was sent here to fulfill a greater purpose than that. What about Ahab Benjadeel?"

M scoffed. "Mothering, you say? I have two grown children and, both of them combined, have never gave me as much of a hard time as you did." She shook her head and gave a brisk huff before she resumed, "Ahab Benjadeel and I went to Cambridge together. We were… good friends."

Bond noticed her hesitance and he showed it by raising his eyebrows.

"Oh what the hell," she muttered in exasperation, "we almost got married."

Bond smiled, a genuine one this time. "My, my. That's quite a bombshell, isn't it? Does Fred know?"

"He doesn't have to," she replied quickly. "It was a part of my past that I'd buried, and one that I won't even bother to get a tombstone for. I admitted I had acted quite rashly, being the radical, irrepressible youth that I was, but to cut a long story short it took me a spout of 'mothering' to make me see that I had almost made a terrible mistake." She narrowed her eyes pointedly at Bond.

Bond chose to ignore her attempt to validate her interference with his state of mind. "So do you have any idea as to where his current location might be?"

M clicked her tongue as she glanced out the window, a memory from times past snagging her mind. Bond waited patiently for her response. The distress of the chaotic past few days showed on her weathered features. "His step-aunt and uncle have a house in Marrakech. Might be worth a look. I'll give you the address."

Bond nodded as he handed her Foster's letter and a pen that he had 'borrowed' from his hotel room. Really, hotels were just too kind. "Thank you," he said quietly as he watched his superior write on the back of the letter, where the page was blank. As she did, he wondered what sort of life she had led in the past. She had said she was a radical, irrepressible youth. Could she have been a woman from an upper-crust family, who, frustrated by the expectations of her high-nosed parents and aunts and uncles, had almost eloped with a foreign college mate just for the thrill of it?

M eyed him briefly before she got to the last line. Bond felt it, and was a bit embarrassed because she had obviously caught at least a fleeting image of what had crossed his mind. The amusement must have showed on his face.

"He took me to meet them shortly after we were engaged," she said, albeit a little stonily. "He was much closer to them than he was to his parents." Her expression softened a bit. "Bond, I know we're not in office now, and, being on unofficial discharge until our names are cleared, I am aware that I have no authority or superiority over you, but," she paused for effect, "please try not to get them involved."

He nodded curtly as he got to his feet. "Will do, ma'am."

Author's note: HEEY everyone!! Profuse apologies for the extremely late update... life has other plans for me. But I know it's not a good excuse! I also apologise for this story must seem like a merry wild goose chase - from Bucharest to Mykonos to Marrakech but hey the world has no shortage of exotic locales. Also, the chappie is a bit too short (I guess) and might be lacklustre in quality, so.... hey any comments just direct to the review box, aite? That's right, drop a review, y'all! Much appreciated! Hehehe..... REVIEW!!