“Do I even get a say in any of this?” James asked silently, knowing the answer before the words were even out. Beckett’s only answer was an amused smirk.
“Very well,” James sighed. “What are my orders, Sir?”
“Always so very proper, James,” Beckett mocked and stood up. “I trust we can take this somewhere more comfortable and private.”
James didn’
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James, you're so screwed.
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Does that even happen??
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