Spooks/James Bond Parody fic
Do I really need to say more? Other than it is my right :P
Characters: s9 Team Spooks plus some other surprise guest appearances, Brosnan Bond and M
Rating: PG but some swearing so you are warned
Word Count: 2100 words approx
Spoilers: Not really but it helps if you've watched up to 9.8, there is a spoiler for s10 if you describe a promo pic as a spoiler
Notes: I wanted to use footnotes but don't know how to use them in an lj post so brackets it is.
1.
M was asleep by her husband when the phone rang. She ignored it. The person kept redialling.
“Hello? Who the bloody hell is this? Do you have any idea of what time it is?”
“Rangefinder for you,” came Tucker's subdued reply, "Says it’s urgent.”
“Put her through,” she snapped.
“What do you want Myers? I thought you were back with 5 anyway. Make it quick or I’ll be making a second phone call for a decommission.”
“Same old M I hear. Of course you could do that, but you might have trouble finding me on file.”
“What do you want?”
“A new job.”
M was looking at her laptop incredulously. “Your files terminated! Start talking Ros!”
“I was on an assignment protecting the new home secretary. I got caught up in an exploding building. My colleagues all think I’m dead.”
“Look here! How did you even get this number?”
“Bond and I came to an understanding. He thought you’d be interested.”
‘In a rogue agent whom everyone else presumes is dead? You can tell Bond from me that I’m entirely sick of his ridiculous male ego trumping good sense. And if you rang me just to tell me about yours and Bond’s sex life, you might as well...”
“Oh cut the battle axe act M,” Ros cut her off, voice cold (Most people had learnt by 8.8 not to mess with Ros Myers. Not M. Luckily, there was a phone cord separating the two or we might have seen a cat fight akin to the missed opportunity with Sarah Caulfield.)“We’ve got a big problem with 5. Specifically D.”
M groaned. “Harry Pearce. Spare me the bother. I told him he should have fired Adam after 4.7 happened.”
“Yes well... about him and Ruth Evershed...”
“What?” M roared. “He still hasn’t gotten his act together with her? I told him to put a ring on it years ago! The fans must be in absolute agony. And you think MI6 has an unhealthy propensity for torture!”
“You don’t understand the gravity of the situation M. We’re tried. We’ve all tried. It’s the writers fault. They keep will they, won’t they’ing. It’s positively infuriating.”
There was a pause. “I’ll send in Bond to make shameless innuendoes right away.”
“The jealousy card won’t do it, I’m afraid. Harry needs you on The Grid.”
“I’m head of MI6, not a matchmaker!”
“Give your deputy something to do for once. I hear he’s overcompensating with the current secretary.”
“Ha ha Ros. It’s 2am and I’m not inclined to listen to sarcastic quips from you or from anyone else.”
Ros turned serious (so now you know shit just got real). “We have a national, even an international incident on our hands. Have you looked at the usual sites lately? Mass disorder, national productivity down 10%, general disorder and chaos. This fandom will stop at nothing to get those two together. The shipping disease spreads as far as China, Norway and Australia.”
M was cross checking Ros’ words on her bedside lap top and freaking out. “I’m going in.”
“I see we understand each other then. Oh, and M... best not mention I’m dead. Poor Lucas would never recover from the shock and he was a good friend of mine. Also, he has a character turn around in 9.8 that’s too deliciously awful to mess with.”
“Done.”
“And there’s something else.”
“Make it quick.”
“You insinuate anything between Bond and I ever again, and I kill you. People on spooky_doings might read this thing. I’d never live it down. And Ros Myers had an excellent reputation prior to this fic.”
M laughed and hung up.
2.
Harry was filled with woe. Not the usual, ‘I’m really sad and my life sucks,’ kind of woe; the extra special Spooks brand, ‘my life is as deeply sad as the Pacific Ocean, and I can’t stop internally crying’ kind of woe (perhaps best personified in the 'oh no Tom, not the ocean!' lj tag)
This feeling had largely been brought on by his own idiotic actions. He’d told Ruth that they shouldn’t be having late night tete a tete’s when really he wanted to say, “OMFG RUTH, LET’S PICK A HOUSE AND JUMP EACH OTHER THIS SECOND.” (if fics were canon eh?)
The phone rang at his desk. It was 3am.
“Hello?”
Harry Pearce? The man, the myth, the legend. It’s been awhile.”
“Fuck you with Bells on,” replied Harry cheerfully.
“It’s not me you want to shower with profanities,” Jools laughed, “for once it’s not me crashing the party.”
“Didn’t you hear me the first time?”
“I once told you that if you kept carrying on the way you were, 5 would need 6 to come over and potty train you all... well at last a kind God listened eh”
“Do you have anything relevant to say before I hang up?”
“Shorty’s coming over. I’d watch your step, Sir Pearce. She has an unhealthy habit of tripping up the joyous cavalcade.”
“What?” Harry roared, “what’s SHE doing interfering over here.”
“Word on the street is that if you don’t get over bachelorhood soon the amount of smut written about you and Evershed will break the internet. Dame Shorty has had enough of your misplaced gallantry. She’s coming over tomorrow to sort it out for you.”
“Why’re you telling me?”
“She asked- said we needed to up the snark-o-meter or zulu_ottawa would fly in from Canada herself and amp it up for us.”
“Never heard of her,” replied Harry, trying to pretend he wasn’t ruffled by the fact he didn’t recognise a spy on their books.
“Well you wouldn’t have would you? She’s what we in the business call a competent spy- none of this TV prime time crap.”
“At least I didn’t run off to America pretending to be a crippled Doctor named House.”
“It’s called going undercover.”
“Oh,” Harry said foolishly, “I knew that.”
3.
“I knew there was a reason I needed to retire before series ten,” Harry said to nobody in particular.
“Where’s your token Moneypenny?” snapped M. “Bond can’t do without one for longer than two consecutive movies.” There was a short pause. “And who is that?”
“Tariq Ma’am.”
“He looks entirely like a BBC token minority character to me Harry. Get him some backstory. Right away.”
“Er right,” Harry said uncertainly.
After reading everyone’s file with them sitting anxiously around her in the meeting room, M was getting more and more fed up.
“There is entirely too much angst in all of your current storylines.” She clicked her fingers imperiously. “I do like that random Greek man however. What did you say your name was? Dimitri? I like him Harry. He has an air of levity. I need some humour in this room and so do the fans.” (M has her fingers crossed for series ten)
M smiled at her twitter page on her mobile fondly. “See look. My hash tag has already gone viral.”
Harry looked over her shoulder. #crackasmileineffectualspy looked back at him. He scowled.
4.
“Ms Evershed I presume.” Bond held out his hand. “The name’s Bond, James Bond.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whose bright idea was it to put the world’s most misogynistic film franchise character in a fic with me?”
“The Dame herself I’m afraid. And you and I both know she’s a terror. She’s the reason Chuck Norris went out of business.” (Though some have argued Ros helped M with that endeavor)
‘So you’re here now. So um... what can I help you with?”
“A nice massage and a hotel room for two?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so.”
“What about with Harry Pearce then. It would make a lot of people very happy,” he said smoothly and suavely. (Fuck! James Bond invented suave)
“Give me a single reason why I should take you seriously.”
“I can give you several;
1. Because I’m an incredibly sexy, competent, smart, brilliant, alpha male who never ever makes big mistakes.
2. My boss is Dame fucking Judi Dench. Nobody crosses her and lives to tell the tale... ” (Except for maybe Ros Myers)
“Alright, alright,” snapped Ruth. ‘I don’t want to be stuck listening to you all day.”
5.
“How’s it going M?” Bond whispered into his snazzy technical watch gizmo thingy that Q had invented for him. (Even though the real Q died in 1999 with TWINE with a character’s coolest exit ever. Yes. Even cooler than Malcolm’s. But shut up. Since when has Spooks ever paid attention to canon anyway?)
“Terribly. I’ve tried offering Harry expensive suits, brand watches, Aston Martin cars, endless martini’s, and every other kind of product placement possible to take Ruth out on an au spin but he’s not budging.”
“We’ve got to do something M. This is a potential calamity worse than when the fans argued about whether Casino Royal was a prequel or a reboot.”
“I’m trying. There’s entirely too much chaste chivalry in the air- well that and the script is written by bastards who are obsessed with understated moments that go nowhere. I mean the bloody fool is on to his tenth season. Just get it on already! I don’t understand it. You’d have no problems with this kind of assignment Bond.”
“I’ve already tried M. No dice.”
“That’s it Bond. There’s nothing else for it. Now I’m going to have to get really nasty.”
Bond shuddered and was glad M couldn’t see him.
“Those fans better bloody thank me for busting my gut for them- without me, series ten would be a Shakespearean tragedy,” she was saying.
6.
M was looking at both Ruth and Harry with her sternest expression.
“I’m decommissioning you both for an oversupply of unresolved romantic tension.” She glared at them suddenly and they both jumped like guilty school children.
“Now go get married before I lock you both in the same room for 24 hours while you guys sort your shit out.”
“Now listen here Shorty,” blurted out Harry before he could realise his mistake.
“The dratted woman suddenly seemed to grow to twice her size. “What the bloody hell did you just call me?”
Harry smiled weakly as Ruth frowned at him. “Just a pet name I invented for you Ma’am.”
“Ever call me that again and I’ll have a team of hit men ringing on your doorbell before you can shout ‘illegal assassination.’”
“Of course Ma’am. Yes Ma’am. Whatever you say Ma’am.”
“Stop grovelling Harry and grow a backbone. Honestly! What is 5 coming to? Teen wannabe spies, token minorities and mid life crises everywhere I look. And whatever happened to Keeley Hawes? I liked her.”
“I think you’ll find she went off to Chile’s version of heaven in a pub in a better prime time slot.”
“Shut up! I didn’t ask for an answer to my question. It was rhetorical. Anyway, as I was saying, what is 5 coming too? At least MGM is honest about what kind of show Bond is. (Utterly ludicrous? Ludicrously ridiculous? You tell me.) Now Ms Evershed... Harry, get yourselves to a beach/field location and gaze into each other’s eyes longingly, holding hands like you’re in Wuthering Heights so that the series ten promo pic has some precedent (If you are confused see the promo pic here http://nicola-walker.livejournal.com/7539.html). Also, so the_silverdoe squee factor ricochet’s off her computer screen and fills her room with a happy golden glow.(Slightly voyeuristic fans Peter Firth? You can bet your bottom dollar! (see s9 special feature The Cost of Being a Spy)
‘Yes Ma’am, at once Ma’am,” Ruth and Harry said simaltaneously, holding hands and skipping out of the pods.(if this happened for realsies I'd pay for hestia8 recap because it would be solid gold)
(Fans break through the fourth wall for a second to deafen everyone on the grid with their cheers)
“Oh no,” Bond interjected suddenly, “I haven’t made one bad sexual joke the entire time I’ve been here!”
“Thank God for that,” said Ros, inexplicably appearing in a puff of smoke like a spy version of Mary Poppins.
Lucas gasped and died of shock.(Thus, changing the course of 9.8 forever. Lucas fans are much happier for it.)
“M gets one up on the great Ros Myers once again!” burst out M gleefully.
“Pray tell us all M,” Ros said, showcasing her gun.
“Well- I had to rehire someone to take Ruth’s place as the new section analyst. (Because it’s not like the Grid has ever been understaffed M!) I thought you could be the new Harry, Ros, and then have your own spin off show.”
Ros was so happy about this, she didn’t even shoot Bond when he grinned wickedly and said as a hot blonde lady entered the room, “say hello to our new analyst: Ritzy Jiggles.”
The End
Characters: s9 Team Spooks plus some other surprise guest appearances, Brosnan Bond and M
Rating: PG but some swearing so you are warned
Word Count: 2100 words approx
Spoilers: Not really but it helps if you've watched up to 9.8, there is a spoiler for s10 if you describe a promo pic as a spoiler
Notes: I wanted to use footnotes but don't know how to use them in an lj post so brackets it is.
1.
M was asleep by her husband when the phone rang. She ignored it. The person kept redialling.
“Hello? Who the bloody hell is this? Do you have any idea of what time it is?”
“Rangefinder for you,” came Tucker's subdued reply, "Says it’s urgent.”
“Put her through,” she snapped.
“What do you want Myers? I thought you were back with 5 anyway. Make it quick or I’ll be making a second phone call for a decommission.”
“Same old M I hear. Of course you could do that, but you might have trouble finding me on file.”
“What do you want?”
“A new job.”
M was looking at her laptop incredulously. “Your files terminated! Start talking Ros!”
“I was on an assignment protecting the new home secretary. I got caught up in an exploding building. My colleagues all think I’m dead.”
“Look here! How did you even get this number?”
“Bond and I came to an understanding. He thought you’d be interested.”
‘In a rogue agent whom everyone else presumes is dead? You can tell Bond from me that I’m entirely sick of his ridiculous male ego trumping good sense. And if you rang me just to tell me about yours and Bond’s sex life, you might as well...”
“Oh cut the battle axe act M,” Ros cut her off, voice cold (Most people had learnt by 8.8 not to mess with Ros Myers. Not M. Luckily, there was a phone cord separating the two or we might have seen a cat fight akin to the missed opportunity with Sarah Caulfield.)“We’ve got a big problem with 5. Specifically D.”
M groaned. “Harry Pearce. Spare me the bother. I told him he should have fired Adam after 4.7 happened.”
“Yes well... about him and Ruth Evershed...”
“What?” M roared. “He still hasn’t gotten his act together with her? I told him to put a ring on it years ago! The fans must be in absolute agony. And you think MI6 has an unhealthy propensity for torture!”
“You don’t understand the gravity of the situation M. We’re tried. We’ve all tried. It’s the writers fault. They keep will they, won’t they’ing. It’s positively infuriating.”
There was a pause. “I’ll send in Bond to make shameless innuendoes right away.”
“The jealousy card won’t do it, I’m afraid. Harry needs you on The Grid.”
“I’m head of MI6, not a matchmaker!”
“Give your deputy something to do for once. I hear he’s overcompensating with the current secretary.”
“Ha ha Ros. It’s 2am and I’m not inclined to listen to sarcastic quips from you or from anyone else.”
Ros turned serious (so now you know shit just got real). “We have a national, even an international incident on our hands. Have you looked at the usual sites lately? Mass disorder, national productivity down 10%, general disorder and chaos. This fandom will stop at nothing to get those two together. The shipping disease spreads as far as China, Norway and Australia.”
M was cross checking Ros’ words on her bedside lap top and freaking out. “I’m going in.”
“I see we understand each other then. Oh, and M... best not mention I’m dead. Poor Lucas would never recover from the shock and he was a good friend of mine. Also, he has a character turn around in 9.8 that’s too deliciously awful to mess with.”
“Done.”
“And there’s something else.”
“Make it quick.”
“You insinuate anything between Bond and I ever again, and I kill you. People on spooky_doings might read this thing. I’d never live it down. And Ros Myers had an excellent reputation prior to this fic.”
M laughed and hung up.
2.
Harry was filled with woe. Not the usual, ‘I’m really sad and my life sucks,’ kind of woe; the extra special Spooks brand, ‘my life is as deeply sad as the Pacific Ocean, and I can’t stop internally crying’ kind of woe (perhaps best personified in the 'oh no Tom, not the ocean!' lj tag)
This feeling had largely been brought on by his own idiotic actions. He’d told Ruth that they shouldn’t be having late night tete a tete’s when really he wanted to say, “OMFG RUTH, LET’S PICK A HOUSE AND JUMP EACH OTHER THIS SECOND.” (if fics were canon eh?)
The phone rang at his desk. It was 3am.
“Hello?”
Harry Pearce? The man, the myth, the legend. It’s been awhile.”
“Fuck you with Bells on,” replied Harry cheerfully.
“It’s not me you want to shower with profanities,” Jools laughed, “for once it’s not me crashing the party.”
“Didn’t you hear me the first time?”
“I once told you that if you kept carrying on the way you were, 5 would need 6 to come over and potty train you all... well at last a kind God listened eh”
“Do you have anything relevant to say before I hang up?”
“Shorty’s coming over. I’d watch your step, Sir Pearce. She has an unhealthy habit of tripping up the joyous cavalcade.”
“What?” Harry roared, “what’s SHE doing interfering over here.”
“Word on the street is that if you don’t get over bachelorhood soon the amount of smut written about you and Evershed will break the internet. Dame Shorty has had enough of your misplaced gallantry. She’s coming over tomorrow to sort it out for you.”
“Why’re you telling me?”
“She asked- said we needed to up the snark-o-meter or zulu_ottawa would fly in from Canada herself and amp it up for us.”
“Never heard of her,” replied Harry, trying to pretend he wasn’t ruffled by the fact he didn’t recognise a spy on their books.
“Well you wouldn’t have would you? She’s what we in the business call a competent spy- none of this TV prime time crap.”
“At least I didn’t run off to America pretending to be a crippled Doctor named House.”
“It’s called going undercover.”
“Oh,” Harry said foolishly, “I knew that.”
3.
“I knew there was a reason I needed to retire before series ten,” Harry said to nobody in particular.
“Where’s your token Moneypenny?” snapped M. “Bond can’t do without one for longer than two consecutive movies.” There was a short pause. “And who is that?”
“Tariq Ma’am.”
“He looks entirely like a BBC token minority character to me Harry. Get him some backstory. Right away.”
“Er right,” Harry said uncertainly.
After reading everyone’s file with them sitting anxiously around her in the meeting room, M was getting more and more fed up.
“There is entirely too much angst in all of your current storylines.” She clicked her fingers imperiously. “I do like that random Greek man however. What did you say your name was? Dimitri? I like him Harry. He has an air of levity. I need some humour in this room and so do the fans.” (M has her fingers crossed for series ten)
M smiled at her twitter page on her mobile fondly. “See look. My hash tag has already gone viral.”
Harry looked over her shoulder. #crackasmileineffectualspy looked back at him. He scowled.
4.
“Ms Evershed I presume.” Bond held out his hand. “The name’s Bond, James Bond.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whose bright idea was it to put the world’s most misogynistic film franchise character in a fic with me?”
“The Dame herself I’m afraid. And you and I both know she’s a terror. She’s the reason Chuck Norris went out of business.” (Though some have argued Ros helped M with that endeavor)
‘So you’re here now. So um... what can I help you with?”
“A nice massage and a hotel room for two?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so.”
“What about with Harry Pearce then. It would make a lot of people very happy,” he said smoothly and suavely. (Fuck! James Bond invented suave)
“Give me a single reason why I should take you seriously.”
“I can give you several;
1. Because I’m an incredibly sexy, competent, smart, brilliant, alpha male who never ever makes big mistakes.
2. My boss is Dame fucking Judi Dench. Nobody crosses her and lives to tell the tale... ” (Except for maybe Ros Myers)
“Alright, alright,” snapped Ruth. ‘I don’t want to be stuck listening to you all day.”
5.
“How’s it going M?” Bond whispered into his snazzy technical watch gizmo thingy that Q had invented for him. (Even though the real Q died in 1999 with TWINE with a character’s coolest exit ever. Yes. Even cooler than Malcolm’s. But shut up. Since when has Spooks ever paid attention to canon anyway?)
“Terribly. I’ve tried offering Harry expensive suits, brand watches, Aston Martin cars, endless martini’s, and every other kind of product placement possible to take Ruth out on an au spin but he’s not budging.”
“We’ve got to do something M. This is a potential calamity worse than when the fans argued about whether Casino Royal was a prequel or a reboot.”
“I’m trying. There’s entirely too much chaste chivalry in the air- well that and the script is written by bastards who are obsessed with understated moments that go nowhere. I mean the bloody fool is on to his tenth season. Just get it on already! I don’t understand it. You’d have no problems with this kind of assignment Bond.”
“I’ve already tried M. No dice.”
“That’s it Bond. There’s nothing else for it. Now I’m going to have to get really nasty.”
Bond shuddered and was glad M couldn’t see him.
“Those fans better bloody thank me for busting my gut for them- without me, series ten would be a Shakespearean tragedy,” she was saying.
6.
M was looking at both Ruth and Harry with her sternest expression.
“I’m decommissioning you both for an oversupply of unresolved romantic tension.” She glared at them suddenly and they both jumped like guilty school children.
“Now go get married before I lock you both in the same room for 24 hours while you guys sort your shit out.”
“Now listen here Shorty,” blurted out Harry before he could realise his mistake.
“The dratted woman suddenly seemed to grow to twice her size. “What the bloody hell did you just call me?”
Harry smiled weakly as Ruth frowned at him. “Just a pet name I invented for you Ma’am.”
“Ever call me that again and I’ll have a team of hit men ringing on your doorbell before you can shout ‘illegal assassination.’”
“Of course Ma’am. Yes Ma’am. Whatever you say Ma’am.”
“Stop grovelling Harry and grow a backbone. Honestly! What is 5 coming to? Teen wannabe spies, token minorities and mid life crises everywhere I look. And whatever happened to Keeley Hawes? I liked her.”
“I think you’ll find she went off to Chile’s version of heaven in a pub in a better prime time slot.”
“Shut up! I didn’t ask for an answer to my question. It was rhetorical. Anyway, as I was saying, what is 5 coming too? At least MGM is honest about what kind of show Bond is. (Utterly ludicrous? Ludicrously ridiculous? You tell me.) Now Ms Evershed... Harry, get yourselves to a beach/field location and gaze into each other’s eyes longingly, holding hands like you’re in Wuthering Heights so that the series ten promo pic has some precedent (If you are confused see the promo pic here http://nicola-walker.livejournal.com/7539.html). Also, so the_silverdoe squee factor ricochet’s off her computer screen and fills her room with a happy golden glow.(Slightly voyeuristic fans Peter Firth? You can bet your bottom dollar! (see s9 special feature The Cost of Being a Spy)
‘Yes Ma’am, at once Ma’am,” Ruth and Harry said simaltaneously, holding hands and skipping out of the pods.(if this happened for realsies I'd pay for hestia8 recap because it would be solid gold)
(Fans break through the fourth wall for a second to deafen everyone on the grid with their cheers)
“Oh no,” Bond interjected suddenly, “I haven’t made one bad sexual joke the entire time I’ve been here!”
“Thank God for that,” said Ros, inexplicably appearing in a puff of smoke like a spy version of Mary Poppins.
Lucas gasped and died of shock.(Thus, changing the course of 9.8 forever. Lucas fans are much happier for it.)
“M gets one up on the great Ros Myers once again!” burst out M gleefully.
“Pray tell us all M,” Ros said, showcasing her gun.
“Well- I had to rehire someone to take Ruth’s place as the new section analyst. (Because it’s not like the Grid has ever been understaffed M!) I thought you could be the new Harry, Ros, and then have your own spin off show.”
Ros was so happy about this, she didn’t even shoot Bond when he grinned wickedly and said as a hot blonde lady entered the room, “say hello to our new analyst: Ritzy Jiggles.”
The End