James Bond | Ian Fleming book canon | the barrrrrrrr

[mmdaisies]

How to tell if a new patron is a spy: they walk into the bar, betray a brief moment of surprise, then blend in with the crowd. The newest addition to the bar's collection of spies is no different

Comments

[nowait_letme]

He's good.

Chainsaw is intrigued, more by the unruffled exterior in its own right than by any conclusions he might draw from it.

"Something on your mind, liveling?"

Unruffled people are fun. He likes ruffling them.

[savoir_mourir]

"Hmm?" He says, looking up. "No. Just taking a look about."

[nowait_letme]

"Mhm. Okay then."

Chainsaw has a particular way of standing very close and staring unblinkingly that is designed to unnerve people.

The bright sharp razor-blade smile helps matters along nicely.

He doesn't think it'll crack Bond-- this one's a tough boy to knock over if Chainsaw's any judge, and he is-- but it's kind of fun regardless.

"So. What's your name?"

The smile widens briefly into a grin, as bright and sharp as the original.

"Mine's Chainsaw."

[savoir_mourir]

Bond leans back just a bit.

"James Bond. Lovely name you have there, old boy."

[nowait_letme]

He raises his eyebrows incredulously.

"James. Bond."

It's somewhere between a question and a statement of surprise.

"And after twelve thousand years I thought I'd seen it all. Shit, man."

[savoir_mourir]

Bond arches a brow.

[nowait_letme]

After a few seconds' further consideration, his face splits in a wide grin as bright and sharp as the smile.

"Well, Jimmy, can I buy you a drink?"

[savoir_mourir]

Bond's expression turns a mite cooler than how it was before.

"I'm fine, thanks."

[nowait_letme]

Snicker.

"Sure you are."

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his rather overdone black leather trenchcoat and tilts his head consideringly, watching Bond with a look of subtle but intense fascination.

It's almost as unnerving as the smile.