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tiffdawg · 4 years

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Just Another Mission | An Agent Whiskey x Reader Fic

Gif: @javier-pena

Pairing: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.1K

Rating: T | Warnings: None. This is literally all fluff. Fake marriage and sharing-the-only-bed tropes included!

A/N: Hi! Please enjoy this trope-ridden, cliché-filled Agent Whiskey x reader story that popped into my head at 2am the other night and demanded to be written. I blame everything on Pedro Pascal.

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

... . ...

Just Another Mission

Since taking on the mantel of Agent Rosé at Statesman, you’d been partnered with Agent Whiskey on numerous missions over the years. On paper, this was just another mission. It really shouldn’t have been any different from the rest. The two of you were tasked with infiltrating an insider trading ring on Wall Street that was doing enough damage to the stock market for Statesman to take notice. It was certainly nothing out of your ordinary purview.

As such, you and Agent Whiskey were going undercover as the heads of an up-and-coming southern investment firm looking to expand up north. In order to give your assumed identities a bit more depth and secure invitations to the criminal group’s private social events, your handler back at HQ thought it would be helpful if the two of you went undercover as a married couple. A regular twenty-first century power couple, if you will. The men and women involved in the insider trading ring, for all of their faults, seemed to be family-oriented people. Or, at the very least, beach parties for the kids in the Hamptons and private dinners at the Upper East Side’s finest restaurants with spouses served as the perfect pretext to meet to trade secrets, negotiate deals under the table, and discuss illicit plans for the future.

It almost seems odd that after all of your shared missions, the two of you have never pretended to be married as part your cover story before. But, as you stand in the doorway of your luxurious Manhattan hotel room, you were starting to see the benefit of not posing as a couple. You were also beginning to suspect your handler might be playing some sort of cruel joke on you.

Of course, in order to maintain your cover, she only booked one hotel room for the pair of you. It bolstered your cover story with the hotel staff and in the likely instance you were followed back to your hotel, it would help you keep up appearances. And, of course, there’s only one bed.

“Well, Agent Rosé, we are supposed to be married,” Whiskey quips with a wink as he moves past you into the lush, gilded room. Clearly, your displeasure is written all over your face.

You roll your eyes at your hotshot partner’s receding figure before following after him. You do your best to shake yourself out of it because you really don’t have any time to worry about something as trivial as an unexpected, slightly inconvenient sleeping situation. Instead, you refocus on the mission, hoisting your overpacked suitcase onto the downy, king-sized bed. You dig out the dress keeper and peruse your options for a moment before selecting an elegant black gown with matching evening gloves for the gala you were attending that night. It would be your first appearance as Mr. and Mrs. Castillo and the perfect opportunity to charm your way into the inner circle of the one percent. That is your priority.

… . …

Hours later, after an evening of drinking the best champagne, dancing with your fake husband, and successfully socializing with your targets, you’ve finally returned to your lavish Midtown hotel for the night. With your gloved hand still resting on the crook of Whiskey’s elbow, he leads you from the elevator to the door of your shared suite. He’s recounting a story about a time he talked his way out of a rather precarious standoff involving international arms dealers, a former US ambassador, and the disgraced prince of a small European country. You’re so absolutely enthralled by his story and the silky southern accent that drips off of his every word that for a split second you forget that you’re not actually married to the man on your arm. The thought startles you and you quickly remove yourself from your fellow agent, brushing past him when he eventually swings open the door to your shared room.

Aside from the occasional question about something that was said at the gala, things are quiet as you both type up your mission reports for the day. He finishes first, which is surprising for someone who’s known to be a bit long-winded, and disappears into the ensuite. Perhaps you would’ve completed yours by now if you didn’t steal glances at your fellow agent in between every sentence. Your eyes are practically crossing when you finally submit your report. It’d been a productive day, but you are more than ready to sleep for the next eight hours.

“What are you doing?” you inquire with a light laugh. You’d just finished your nightly routine in the bathroom and emerged to find Whiskey attempting to stretch out his long form on the loveseat sofa.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he retorts back. “I’m going to sleep so I can be well rested for our champagne brunch with the Montgomery’s at the grand old Plaza tomorrow morning.” After a quick glance at the clock on the nightstand he amended with a sigh, “Or rather, later today.”

“On the couch?” you ask, playing with a loose string on the hem of your much-too-short sleep shorts.

“Well, where else would you like me to sleep, darlin’?” he asks in response. You don’t even flinch at the pet names anymore and instead the moniker pulls at something in your chest. Part of you thinks it’d be best for both of you to just leave it at that. He’s trying to be the gentleman and if he sleeps on the couch, all of your problems would be solved. Another part of you…well, you don’t want your partner running on fumes with a stiff neck while you’re in the middle of a mission, do you? Your eyes flick over to the bed and their movement doesn’t go unnoticed by the attentive agent. “Now, I know I may push my luck flirting with you, sweetheart, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. I’m fine spending the night here on the sofa.”

“Who said I would be uncomfortable, Jack?” Your words come out quieter than you intended, but you know he heard you. Rather than wait for him to reply, you crawl into bed, leaving plenty of space for him to join you. After a long moment of consideration, and a forlorn look back at the stiff, overstuffed sofa, he relents.

Unsure how to position yourself with your fellow agent in bed with you, you toss for quite a bit. When you roll over for the fifth time, finally deciding that facing away from him would be the best option, he reaches out and pulls you securely into his chest. You gasp, surprised at his bold move, but find that he feels warm and solid against you. You’re so close you can feel his heartbeat behind you, drumming a steady, spellbinding rhythm. His arm stays wrapped around your waist, almost reassuringly, and your body relaxes into his.

“You settled now?” he asks, and you can just about hear his grin.

“Yes, I am,” you whisper back.

“And you’re still comfortable with this arrangement?” His voice is lower, little more than a breath against the shell of your ear but he’s not flirting with you now. His usual confidence is gone, replaced by the slightest hint of nervousness.

“Very much so. I promise,” you answer genuinely, resting a light hand over his where it sits against your abdomen in the soft space below your ribs. His only response is a slight squeeze around your waist.

With that, your eyes close and you let yourself drift off with the sound of his steady breathing behind you to lull you to sleep.

… . …

Much of your second day in the city was spent wining and dining a pair of your targets, another husband and wife duo. She was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and he was the sole heir to an old New England fortune. You and the Mrs. stole away for a bit in the afternoon to do some shopping on Fifth Avenue. While Statesman had allotted you quite the budget to keep up the appearance of a certain lifestyle, you weren’t sure how Champ was going to feel about your new Chanel pocketbook. It might not have been a strictly necessary purchase, but it was an excellent way to bond with one of your main targets.

“You and your husband make quite the pair,” she says while running her painted fingers over a stack of silk scarves at Saint Laurent. “He’s so obviously smitten with you.”

You preoccupy yourself with the rows of oversized sunglasses, hoping to hide your uneasiness at her comment. At least you and Whiskey were selling the married couple bit.

“I got lucky,” you reply with a lighthearted laugh.

That night, he’s already in bed when you come out of the bathroom. You can’t help but watch him for a minute from the threshold. He’s sitting up against the headboard wearing a white tee shirt that only accentuates his broad figure and, you presume, he’s reading over mission files on his tablet as his eyes scan the screen from behind thick rimmed glasses. You’d learned over the years that his swagger, while not entirely unwarranted, often covered Jack’s studious, serious side. He is an effective agent because of his hard work, diligent research, and careful planning. It isn’t a side of himself he showed many people, but you are among the privileged few.

After a moment, he meets your gaze from across the room. His eyes trail over your body, taking in your sleep shorts and oversized shirt, and a soft smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. You were well accustomed to his appreciative looks, but this was different, almost intimate.

“Well, darlin’, are you about ready for bed?” he asks. The question, while perfectly valid, struck you as something so wholesomely domestic.

You nod and offer him a small smile before slipping into bed next to him. He considers you for a moment longer then sighs to himself and tosses his tablet and glasses on the nightstand before switching off the light.

Cloaked in darkness, the two of you lie silently next to each other for a moment. Only the quiet hum of the air conditioning fills the room. But it’s anything but peaceful, and the longer you stir in silence, the worse this tension coiling between you and Whiskey gets.

“Jack?” you finally call out to him, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he responds. The sheets rustle as he turns to face you. You seek out his eyes in the darkness with only a sliver of moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains to help you.

“Will you hold me like last night?” you ask tentatively.

“Baby girl, I thought you’d never ask.”

You meet in the middle of the bed. His arms wrap around you as you lay you head on his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt with one hand in a vain attempt to pull him closer as if your bodies aren’t already perfectly flush. You breathe in his familiar scent, something deep and rich and completely Jack Daniels, and you nearly sob at the relief of finally feeling him against you again. You’re almost ashamed to say you’d been craving it ever since you untangled yourself from his grasp this morning. You don’t know how this happened; how this man, your coworker and partner, cast this spell over you so quickly. But as he strokes your back with a gentle hand, you start to accept that it was there for a long time. And you hope that he feels it, too.

… . …

With everyone presumably at work on a Monday in New York City, you and Agent Whiskey decide that’s the perfect time to do some investigative work at your targets’ private homes. It’s no easy task considering they all live in the best (and most secure) penthouse apartments and spacious townhomes money can buy in Manhattan, but things went surprisingly well with only a few minor hitches throughout the day. At least things were going well until you discovered your final mark had recently upgraded the security system for their Park Avenue townhome and then things went south. Fast.

You’d passed most of the evening arguing with your partner, albeit in hushed tones so as not to alert the other hotel guests. While you and Whiskey had your fair share of disagreements in the past, you both have a bit of a stubborn streak in you, this fight is particularly ugly.

Eventually, you decide you’ve had enough of him and so you lock yourself in the ensuite, hoping to drown your frustrations in a piping hot forty-five-minute shower. You spend most of your shower doing little more than standing directly under the stream of water and counting to ten repeatedly while attempting breathing exercises Ginger Ale had taught you in an effort to reign in your anger.

He’s gone when you exit the steamy bathroom and for a minute you worry. Then you quickly decide it’s not your place to worry about the man and you throw yourself dramatically onto the bed with the intention of forcing yourself to fall asleep before he returns.

When he finally slips back into the dark room an hour later, you’re still wide awake. Out of spite and stubbornness, you give him no indication of that fact. You are, however, surprised when he climbs into bed next to you. You figured tonight he really would opt for the uncomfortable couch rather than sleep next to you. After some time, you fall asleep with your backs turned to each other. You can’t help but think that the distance between the two of you has never felt greater.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later when you wake from a fitful sleep with the disheartening realization that you were both a little right and a little wrong. It leaves a horrible, sinking feeling in your stomach until you just can’t take it anymore. It’s the middle of the night, but you have to apologize right now. You reach across him to turn on the light and your light movements jostle the bed enough to wake him. Although, from the look on his face, you suspect he wasn’t sleeping well either.

Jack sits up so that he’s facing you fully and eyes you with an arched brow, patiently waiting for you to speak. Meanwhile, you’re chewing at your bottom lip and struggling to find the right words to express yourself now that you’ve got his attention.

“Do you know why I like working with you?” you finally ask, measuring each word carefully. “You’ve never doubted my abilities as an agent. Not because I’m a woman or because of any other stupid reason. You’ve always made me feel like your equal. Until today.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Truly, I am,” he answers seriously. His accent lacks the usual playful tone. “For a moment there I was sure I was going to lose you and I panicked, and I know now I should’ve listened to you. But please believe me when I say that I’ve never doubted you. Not once. The only thing I doubted today was my ability to keep you safe.”

“That’s not your job,” you assert.

“Like hell it isn’t,” Jack responds sternly. “You’re my partner.”

You nod, acquiescing. You couldn’t argue with that even if you wanted to; his safety is just as important to you. You take a deep breath before continuing. This is always the hardest part. “I’m sorry, too. For the way I reacted today. I was frustrated and it could’ve cost us this mission.”

“All is forgiven. You know that.” You sigh in relief when he hits you with one of his beaming smiles. The kind that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners. “You gonna let me hold you now?” he asks as he relaxes back into the plush pillows, gesturing to the space beside him. “I don’t know if I can sleep without you anymore.”

“After two nights?” you ask teasingly with a soft laugh.

“Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time,” he says with a wicked grin. You can’t help but return the smile, knowing exactly what he means.

“Not yet,” you say coyly, summoning every ounce of courage you have before tentatively brushing your lips against his. You try to pull back so you can gauge his response, but there’s no need as he cups your face in his hands and brings your lips right back to his. This time the kiss is eager, hungry, and you return his enthusiasm with equal fervor. Your lips meld together perfectly and when his tongue slides into your mouth, you can’t help the little moan that escapes you.

When you finally pull apart, gasping for air, you both break out into a fit of laughter. This was probably a long time coming and yet it managed to catch you both by surprise. He places a few imperfect kisses, warped only by his smile, across your face and you fall back into bed with him.

The word love imprints itself into your mind as you hold his gaze, but you don’t speak it into existence. Not yet. Even though the look in his eyes tells you he’s thinking the exact same thing. You just know he is because after all these years together you can read Jack Daniels like a book. But this thing between you is new, precious even. Maybe it’s been there for a while, but you’re only just now ready to accept it and there’s no need to rush things. Better to let it mature in its own time because you know it’s going to age well, just like fine whiskey.

“Goodnight, Jack,” you whisper instead. You plant a light kiss on his soft lips, smiling as his mustache tickles you, before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“I’m definitely going to sleep well now, my sweet girl,” He murmurs as he hugs you against him. In that moment you feel so safe, so cherished, so incredibly happy. Until- “Even if you do snore.”

“I do not!” you gasp and try to wriggle free so you can glare at him. He only laughs and holds you tighter, his arms wrapping firmly around you.

“Yeah, you do. Soft, little snores,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s cute.”

... . ...

Thanks for reading!

Edit: find part two here!

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #my fic #fic: just another mission

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stuff-of-pi · 5 years

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18 Jeddy Fics I Read In 2018

Disclaimer: I have never done a fic rec before and hope I’m doing it right :) I will be linking to every author’s AO3 profile as well as the fic. If you know of a tumblr that is not included with the corresponding author, please lmk. Unless otherwise stated, all fics are one shots.

The Hidden SIde by gracerene // @gracerene09

Summary: Twenty years ago today, James Sirius Potter was born into this world. Four years, two months, and six days later, somebody took him.

Words: 38,353; 9/9 chapters

Rating: Explicit

A/N: I can’t really explain why I loved this fic so much but I loved it so so so much. I literally bookmarked it and my note said “um, holy shit, so good???”. I wrote a two paragraph comment at the end of it because I loved it so much

my youth is yours by GoldenTruth813 // @goldentruth813

Summary: At twenty-eight years old James is a respected Auror with a comfortable life. And alright, perhaps his love life is a bit lackluster and something has always seemed like it was missing. But he’s got a job he loves and Teddy as his Auror partner and best mate. That's more than enough for James. At least until an Auror raid gone wrong leaves James in his eighteen-year-old body grappling with feelings he thought he’d left in the past.

Words: 40,953

Rating: Explicit

A/N: This was absolutely amazing. I loved reading this. 100,000% worth every minute

This Must Be the Place by aibidil // @aibidil

Summary: When your dad is Harry Potter, your face shows up in Teen Witch, your social media videos go viral, and sometimes your life depends on pretending to date your metamorph godbrother, whom you've been over for years, thank you very much. Or, the one where James and Teddy do animal yoga and risqué karaoke and their families could do with seeing fewer videos of them snogging.

Words: 28,959

Rating: Explicit

Everyone's a Winner by gracerene // @gracerene09

Summary: Teddy loved when James won, but he couldn't deny it; he loved it when James lost, too.

Words: 2,667

Rating: Explicit

Benediction by thecouchsofa (Jeddy, Scorbus, and Teddy/Scorpius)

Summary: “Seems a shame to waste the opportunity when they’re just there,” Teddy said, glancing over his shoulder at the other bed. “What did you have in mind?” Scorpius asked. Scorpius supposed he should have expected something like this would occur, given the circumstances. Teddy smirked and slid off the bed, waiting for Scorpius to follow.

Words: 5,807

Rating: Explicit

Sardines by shiftylinguini // @shiftylinguini (Scorbus, Jeddy)

Summary: It’s bad enough his cock is hard from listening to the impromptu midnight pornography of his brother getting off; Albus is not going to add seeing it to the list of reasons why he lost his mind, and presumably his eyesight, on the eve of his grandmother's seventieth. Scorpius, though, doesn’t appear to have any such qualms.

Words: 4,060

Rating: Explicit

Relationship Status: It’s Complicated by heyitsamorette (Amorette HD)

Summary: We always want what we can't have. And Teddy knows he shouldn't have James... yet he keeps having him over and over again.

Words: 3,833

Rating: Explicit

Show Me Where Your Love Lies by restlessandordinary // @restlessandordinary

Summary: At 23 James is one of the top Seekers in the world, Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor 4 years running and never far from the front pages of the paper. Oh, and he just so happens to be a virgin desperately in love with Teddy, both facts he plans to take to his grave. But when the Daily Prophet runs a story on "England's Most Eligible Virgin" all the secrets James has worked so hard to conceal begin to come out.

Words: 9,298

Rating: Explicit

An Unusual Request and One Hell of a Deal by restlessandordinary // @restlessandordinary

Summary: Teddy and James have always been close, but more like best friends since James graduated from Hogwarts. In which James has an unusual request and Teddy thinks he's just being a great wing man. Until he has to face the feelings he's barely begun to understand himself.

Words: 7,461

Rating: Explicit

The Boyfriend Look™ by thenewlondoner // @faeheyjesper

Summary: General reviews for Teddy Lupin's taste in clothes include: a sartorial travesty (Albus Potter), absolutely painful (Lily Potter), very 80s (Hugo Granger-Weasley). James just sees Teddy.

Words: 11,231

Rating: General Audiences

Dreams Do Come True by randowskie

Summary: Teddy has it bad for James, but he knows that James is completely off limits and not interested. When a date with James is being auctioned off for charity, Teddy realizes he may not be able to keep his feelings quiet.

Words: 3,050

Rating: Mature

ils se demandent pourquoi je t’aime by violetclarity

Summary: No one -- friends, family, or coworkers -- understands why Teddy and James are together. It doesn’t bother Teddy. It does bother James.

Words: 7,524

Rating: Explicit

Struck by gryffindorJ

Summary: Sometimes you don't see what's right in front of your face until you catch it in just the right light.

Words: 12,894

Rating: Explicit

Lady of the Evening by gryffindorJ

Summary: Albus and James run a whorehouse. Sort of. They needed the money, it couldn't be helped. But it's completely on the up and up. Or at least James has no reason to think otherwise. Besides he's too busy with this Teddy thing to really care.

Words: 28,472

Rating: Explicit

A/N: They rent out a room to a woman who happens to be a prostitute. Basically, the fic focuses on James renovating.

About Time by gryffindorJ

Summary: Teddy and James know exactly who to blame for all of this.

Words: 9,291

Rating: Explicit

Muckraker by gryffindorJ

Summary: After a preview of James' latest article appears The Daily Prophet Teddy is aware that his squad of elite Aurors was secretly infiltrated by James. To make matters worse the preview foreshadows a less than flattering article. Teddy has to find out how James got this information before the article goes to print. Not Teddy's idea of a good time because things between him and James have been less than congenial since they broke up.

Words: 9,957

Rating: Explicit

A/N: There is a happy ending :)

Away by gryffindorJ

Summary: Teddy is sent on a dangerous rescue mission. He has some doubts about his partner but learns what the true mission is about.

Words: 17,720

Rating: Explicit

In For A Pound by gryffindorJ

Summary: "You may go now. I don't want to see you back in detention again." James mutely picked up his bag, heeding Teddy's instructions. "Walk back to Gryffindor Tower, no stopping anywhere. I want to imagine you with come dripping down your legs."

Words: 29,916

Rating: Explicit

BONUS:

Let Me Call You Jamie by GoldenTruth813 // @goldentruth813

Summary: Teddy knows he and James love each other, he just isn’t ready to let everyone else know about their relationship — they have forever to handle that little hurdle. Until a freak Quidditch accident leaves James without his memory and Teddy finds himself examining the choices he’s made and wondering what forever really means.

Words: 22,085

Rating: Mature

A/N: The very first Jeddy fic I ever read. It’s absolutely amazing and I just loved it. I felt many many things while reading this and I still think about it from time to time. So very extremely interesting. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever read before.

#this is my first time doing this and i'm incredibly nervous that i somehow did it incorrectly #please enjoy this #also took way too long to put together #there is not enough jeddy in this world #jeddy #fic rec #scorbus #james sirius potter #teddy lupin #fic rec 2018

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one-of-us-blog · 6 years

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For Your Eyes Only (1981)

Today Drew is forced to watch and recap 1981’s For Your Eyes Only, the twelfth James Bond adventure. Bond is on the hunt for a sunken bit of technology that could spell big trouble for the British government. Bond also gets tangled in an absolute badass’ quest for vengeance, and surely that’s going to end well, right? Right?

Keep reading to find out…

Eli, I’m sorry this is so late, but you did a fantastic job with your last two recaps! I can’t believe you’re so close to the finish line! I’m going to keep this extra short to dive right into the action, but I wanted to say again that you’re doing an amazing job and I can’t wait for your next recap!

Buttocks tight!

Screenplay by Michael G. Wilson & Richard Maibaum, film directed by John Glen

We’re old hands at this now, so the standard gun barrel sequence holds no surprises for us. What is surprising, though, is that we open on James Bond bringing flowers to the grave of his late wife, Teresa Bond. Remember Tracy? It’s been a while! Bond doesn’t have long to mourn in peace, though, because a priest runs up to inform Bond that the office is sending a helicopter to pick him up. The chopper arrives, but Bond is suspicious when the priest appears to give his last rights as the helicopter takes off. Bond was right to be suspicious, because just then we cut to Bond’s archnemesis, Ernst Stavro Blofeld! Well, I mean, I think it’s Blofeld… We don’t get a good look at his face, but I’d know that kitty anywhere. Despite now being apparently wheelchair-bound and sporting a neck brace after his last encounter with Bond, Blofeld still has a trick up his sleeve and sends a signal to the chopper that kills the pilot. Blofeld controls the helicopter remotely and instead of just crashing it immediately and killing Bond easily, Blofeld has some fun and whips him around a bit. This gives Bond time to get control of the helicopter and steer it right over to Blofeld. He hooks onto Blofeld’s wheelchair and drops him into a smokestack while Blofeld babbles incoherently about buying Bond a stainless-steel delicatessen. At leas the cat got away.

After that bonkers opening, we jump to our trippy title sequence where we actually get to see Sheena Easton belting out the undeniable bop, “For Your Eyes Only”. This is a real slow jam, and the standard crew of naked silhouetted ladies even manage to slow down their flips and summersaults to match the mood.

With that banger behind us, we jump to a fishing boat which is actually yet another nautical spy base. The fishermen really goof up and accidentally haul in an old mine which promptly blows the ship, spy base and all, to hell. In MI6, M is informed about the accident; turns out there’s trouble, because the water the ship sank in ain’t that deep and now there’s a chance the damn KGB can get ahold of tech aboard the ship. MI6 hires a marine archeologist to secretly locate the sunken base and get the goods before those damned dirty Russians can get their hands on it, but he and his wife are both gunned down in front of their daughter, Melina Havelock (Carole Bouquet). The freshly orphaned Havelock regards her murdered parents and craves vengeance.

Back in London, M gives Bond the lowdown on what exactly is at stake here. The ship that was sunk was carrying the Automatic Targeting Attack Communicator (ATAC), which can be used to launch missiles from British subs. Bond is filled in on the deaths of the marine archeologist and his wife, and told they were killed by a hitman named Hector Gonzales (Stefan Kalipha). Bond is sent to Madrid find Gonzales and figure out who hired him to ice the Havelocks. Bond infiltrates Gonzales’ villa while some truly unexpected music plays all around him. Bond is almost instantly captured by Gonzales’ men, but then Gonzales is unexpectedly killed with an arrow to the back. Bond makes a run for it and runs into the uninvited archer: the utterly badass and utterly parentless Melina Havelock. Bond and Havelock make for his car but it gets blown up, so they take Havelock’s bitchin’ ride instead and she leads some goons on a chase that would put Bond to shame. The car tips but some friendly villagers right it and Bond, in a move that is as unnecessary as it is unwanted, decides he’s going to drive Havelock’s car now. Through dumb luck and none of Havelock’s cold precision Bond eludes the goons (to be clear, he totally flipped the car at one point, too, but Havelock is a lot cooler than him and didn’t pull a dick move by demanding to drive again because she’s not that petty and she has nothing to prove to this limey showoff).

Bond gives an absolutely insufferable lecture about the dangers of seeking revenge to Havelock who, much like me, has no time for his shit. You’re seriously going to try to warn her away from seeking vengeance after dropping Blofeld down a smokestack, like, half an hour ago, James? C’mon. He finally skulks back to England before he can get in the way of anymore of her awesome plans. Bond is scolded like the overgrown child he is by M and told to use some magical Q tech (which is really just an electronic sketch artist) to identify a man he saw paying Gonzales. Unbelievably, Q’s toy works and the man is identified as Emile Leopold Locque (Michael Gothard).

(How in the world has there not been a Bond character with the surname ‘Gothard’?)

Bond heads to Italy to track down Locque. In his hotel bathroom he finds a message waiting for him on his mirror, and it leads him to his Italian contact, Luigi Mario – No, sorry, Luigi Ferrara (John Moreno). Ferrara introduces him to a businessman and informant named Aris Kristatos (Julian Glover). Kristatos tells him that Locque is employed by a guy named Milos Columbo (Chaim Topol). I feel like we could have skipped a few steps in this introduction chain, but alright. Kristatos and Columbo used to fight in the Resistance together, but they took different paths and now Columbo is a seriously bad dude.

In the village, Bond catches sight of none other than Melina “Motherfucker” Havelock. That’s right, bitches, it took MI6’s most advanced Etch A Sketch technology, a ridiculous string of introductions and absolutely no effort from Bond himself for him to get this far, and this orphan got here before him with nothing but her wits, her thirst for vengeance and the ghosts of her dead parents to guide her way. Please, somebody, give this woman a spinoff!

Bond just can’t let Havelock tend to her own business, so he has to spy on her. Some motorcycle thugs race toward her, and Bond gets in the way of what I’m sure was a carefully laid trap of Havelock’s design. He drags her over to a sled and we find out she’s only here because someone pretending to be Bond sent her a telegraph telling her to meet him here. Aw, come on, writers, don’t nerf her like that! Havelock insists that Bond has no right to tell her what to do, but he slams his arm into her and forces her to stay in the sled. She tries to escape several more times, but he forces her to stay in her dreadful presence. He tells her to be a good girl and wait for him to do all the work himself, because we just can’t have nice things in this franchise.

Some ice skater who looks like she’s fifteen tries to sleep with Bond and he refuses her because even he has some limits. They go off skiing together and he ditches her, only to be pursued by more motorcycle thugs and a sniper taking shots at him from above. Bond manages to ski to safety for a moment, but the thugs, now joined by one of Columbo’s henchmen, are still on his tail. If there’s one thing these movies love more than a boat chase it’s a ski chase, and this one’s really goin’ all out. Bond eventually meets up with Ferrara, who drives to safety and he skates around with that teenaged ice skater some more. The ice skater’s coach drags her away so some hockey players can try to kill Bond.

He escapes in time to find out that Ferrara has been killed by Columbo. This never would have happened on Havelock’s watch. Speaking of, Bond meets back up with her in Corfu and she takes him on a tour of the local sights. Havelock reminisces on the views that her super dead father loved, and Bond unnecessarily comforts her as she processes her grief. Bond meets up with Kristatos in a casino, and Kristatos warns him again about how bad of a dude Columbo is. Unbeknownst to Bond or Kristatos, they’re being recorded by one of Columbo’s goons. Bond decides to make a move on Columbo’s mistress, Countess Lisl von Schlaf (Cassandra Harris). He successfully beds her, and she admits she knows he’s a spy and she’s supposed to get intel out of him.

Bond and the Countess go for a walk on the beach after banging all night long, and suddenly Locque shows up and Red Asphalts von Schlaf with a dune buggy. Locque is about to kill Bond, but suddenly Columbo’s men show up, chase Locque away and capture Bond. Columbo explains to Bond that Kristatos is actually the bad guy in all of this, he hired Locque and he’s working with the KGB to get the ATAC. Bond doesn’t immediately buy this, but Columbo gives him a gun as a show of good faith and the two get smashed on brandy. That night, they head to Kristatos’ warehouses where he’s secretly processing opium. Inside the warehouse they also find some old mines, so it turns out that fishing accident at the beginning of the movie was no accident.

Locque makes a break for it in a car, but Bond manages to shoot him and cause him to swerve nearly off a cliff. In revenge for the death of Bond’s best friend in the world, Luigi Ferrara, he cold-bloodedly kicks the car and causes it to fall to the rocks below, killing Locque. Afterward Bond tracks down Havelock, who’s busy carrying on her mega-dead father’s work in marine archeology and generally has no time for Bond’s bullshit. They head back onto her dead parents’ boat and Bond fills her in on the sitch with Kristatos. Havelock expertly translates some of her father’s notes and singlehandedly figures out where the sunken ship containing ATAC is located. She steers a minisub to the ship’s location while Bond makes himself as useful as balls on a dildo and slows her down at every turn.

The two suit up and head into the sunken ship, but Kristatos is lurking above and knows someone’s messing around near the ATAC. Havelock is naturally startled when confronted by a bunch of drowned sailors, and Bond takes the opportunity to condescend to her and tell her to go back to the safety of the sub. She says fuck that noise, and gets to work finding ATAC while he’s busy jerking himself off in his wetsuit. The two begin cutting ATAC free of the ship, but suddenly one of Kristatos’ men bursts in and knocks Bond aside like the sidekick he is. This allows the henchman to get ahold of Havelock and sever her air hose, much like her parents were severed from their mortal coil. While Havelock valiantly struggles with henchman, Bond manages to slap a bomb on his back and the two swim to safety, ATAC in hand, as he explodes.

Despite Havelock literally growing up around this sort of stuff, Bond takes it upon himself to coddle her once they get back to the sub and even decides to pilot it himself (it’s that car ride all over again!). Unfortunately, Kristatos has a mini sub of its own, and the two subs BattleBots it out for a while before Bond manages to steer them to safety, nearly destroying a priceless archeological site (and by extension, the life’s work of Havelock and the death’s work of her father) in the process. They finally make it back to the surface, but Kristatos is waiting for them and he seizes the ATAC. Havelock is worried about the men she left on the boat, but Bond only cares about being a big strong man and making sure Havelock is let go. Yeah, because she’s definitely going to just walk away from the guy who killed her parents and now apparently fed her crew to sharks, dumbass. There’s an incredibly gross moment where one of Kristatos’ disgusting henchmen cut Havelock out of her wetsuit, then Bond and Havelock are trussed up and dragged through the water behind Kristatos’ boat.

Bond and Havelock get raked over some coral and some sharks almost much ‘em, but Bond manages to cut their bindings and they make it back to Havelock’s dead parents’ boat. Thanks to a pet parrot formerly owned by the late Mr. Havelock, they’re informed of where Kristatos is hiding the ATAC. Bond, Havelock, Columbo and some of Columbo’s men head for an old monastery where Kristatos is holed up. Bond almost dies while scaling the mountain to reach Kristatos, but eventually makes it to the top and sends a basket down to pick everyone else up. That ice skater is here, too, by the way, but don’t ask my why because I haven’t got a clue. A KGB helicopter is on the way to pick up the ATAC, and Bond and co. fight their way toward Kristatos.

Bond wrestles the ATAC away from Kristatos just as the KGB arrive.

Now get ready for some bullshit. Havelock, crossbow in hand, is ready to bring some biblical vengeance down upon the man that turned her mother and father into corpses and orphaned both her and a parrot, but Bond, James “Drop a Dude Down a Smokestack Because Ten Years Ago He Killed the Woman He’d Been Married to For Three Hours” Bond, James “Kicks a Car Off a Cliff and Kills a Man in Retaliation for the Death of a Man He’d Known for Five Minutes” Bond, gets in her way and tells her this just isn’t the way. She hesitates, influenced by Bond’s buffoonery, and Kristatos draws a knife. Then Columbo, fucking Columbo, the guy absolutely everyone has forgotten at this point, gets to save the day and kill Kristatos by shooting him in the back. Right in front of Havelock. The orphan. The vengeful assassin. The ruthless huntress who had gone halfway around the world to unleash hell upon those who had wronged her. The guy who was responsible for the obliteration of her parents is killed by a completely ancillary character RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER, and she was denied the vengeance that was undeniably hers by right of blood and grief because James fucking Bond had to mansplain morality to her two hours after dropping a crippled man down a smokestack and then making a pun about it.

Bond throws the ATAC off a cliff instead of letting the KGB have it. The KGB leave. Bond and Havelock fuck on a boat. Margaret Thatcher talks to the parrot.

The End

~~~~~

I’ve got to say, I’m pretty damn mad right now. This had the potential to be an absolutely amazing movie. The look of righteous fury in Havelock’s eyes as she stood over the bodies of her murdered parents honestly gave me chills. She shot an assassin with an arrow and drove in a high speed chase like a badass. Then Bond came into her story and she was completely declawed. Bond gets revenge on Blofeld for killing Tracy. Bond gets revenge on some dude whose name I can’t even remember for killing Ferrara. But Havelock? No, Havelock doesn’t get revenge. Havelock isn’t allowed to avenge the deaths of her mother and father. And then, as if that weren’t enough, we’re slapped in the face by Columbo being the one to kill Kristatos. If Kristatos was going to die, why the FUCK couldn’t Havelock be the one to kill him? I’ve been confused and frustrated by parts of these movies in the past, but never, in 12 whole films, have I felt this genuinely furious. The writers of this movie took a character like Havelock, who could have been an absolute badass angel of wrath on a holy quest for vengeance, who could have been an equal to Bond and could have elevated him to his best, who could have delivered an incredibly powerful and satisfying story, and then they took a big dump right on her face.

That’s not even taking into account the other things about this movie that suck. The music, aside from the titular song, isn’t good. Why is that ice skater in the movie at all? Why did we need to go through fifty different dudes to get to Kristatos and Columbo? This movie is a mess, and I’m very angry about it.

I give For Your Eyes Only QQ on the Five Q Scale.

It’s the final countdown! Before I post my next James Bond recap, Eli will have posted his recaps of both “Home Again Rose” and “One Flew Out of the Cuckoo’s Nest”, the penultimate and final episodes of The Golden Girls, respectively. We’ve still got a whole season of The Golden Palace to cover, but this will still be a monumental achievement on Eli’s part and I can’t believe it’s come so soon! You’ve done my Golden Girls-loving heart proud, Chief! I can’t wait to read those final recaps, and then after that (and after I’ve wiped a tear or two from my eyes) I’ll be back with my recap of the James Bond film with arguably the most famous name, Octopussy.

Until then, as always, thank you for reading, thank you for nerfing and thank you for being One of Us!

#One of us #007 #james bond

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