Say That Again?

Prompt: Someone has to repeat something three times before it sinks in.

Sometimes a prompt pokes at your brain. This one was just screaming for a 00Q fic but I couldn't figure out the prompt until my friend made lovely artwork and then I absolutely had the whole plot and the format of the fic. 

Hopefully not that this short fic is out of the way, my brain is clear enough to do lots of story planning tomorrow. Maybe I will even get out of my pajamas.

Favourite writing from this week:

“I love you,” Bond tossed out as he admired his new watch from Q branch. It was high class and explosive. Q could understand why the agent was enamoured. 

“Hurry up or you will miss your flight, 007. Please try to bring everything back in one piece.”

Only the outer ring of the clock face came back. 

“Go to the roof, a helicopter will be there in forty seconds. I will take care of everything else.”

Bond was breathing hard as he sprinted up the stairs. He was out of ammunition, out of gadgets, and nearly out of blood. “I bloody love you,” he said when he burst onto the roof. 

“We’ll see how you feel after your two weeks in medical,” Q said primly. “I've forwarded them your smart blood files so no lying.”

Bond was already unconscious in the rescue copter. 

“Q, I love you too, but wasn't Eve suppose to be my partner for this mission?”

“There is new intel. Valentine’s Day in a gay bar it seems,” Q replied. “I hope you are not too disappointed.”

“With you? Never. I just don't want you to be hurt. You aren't a field agent.”

“I'm well aware of that. Which is why I fully intend to flee at the second sign of danger.”

“The second?”

“We are both paranoid spies. We will pick up on the first sign of danger as soon as we walk in.”

In hindsight, maybe he should have turned back at the door. 

“Bond?”

“I'm here, Q.” The agent placed Q’s glasses back on his face.

“What are you doing here? And when was the last time you slept?”

“I've been here since we got back and the doctors got to work on you.”

Q blinked at him. “But why? Did M ground you as punishment? I'll tell him you are not to blame.”

“It's my choice. I don't want to be anywhere else until I know you are fully healed.”

Q stared at him, the words not computing. 

“I love you, Q.”

Everything fell into place, the final firewall brought down. 

“Oh.”

Out of the Wardrobe

Prompt: What's something you've always considered writing but haven't yet?

There have been a couple good Narnia fics I have read. They generally fall into two categories: Golden Age in Narnia, or a little while after they get back and have mostly learned to still be Kings and Queens in our own world. But the one I want to read, and therefore write, is right after they get out of the wardrobe.

I really want them being extra clumsy the first couple days back since their bodies are different again, still calling each other by their titles and the maids thinking they are playing, Kirke just smiling, Kirke joining in their "game" to the housekeepers displeasure.

I want to write about when Peter asked Kirke about Narnia one afternoon because they had been told of the creation of Narnia during their rule and they made a guess, Peter talks with him about how to survive not going back.

I have started this story. April of last year. I haven't touched it since. Something about it seems too perfect in my head that I don't want to mar it with my clumsy words. Or maybe a part of me knows this is not the right time in my life to write it. I don't really know. But I will share with you what I have so far. 

Featured writing: 

“Hey watch where you’re putting your elbows!”
“Ow! That’s my foot.”
“What is this place?”
“Wait, I think I see a light!”
“Ahhh!”
The four children tumbled out of the wardrobe and landed on top of each other on the hardwood floor. Slowly they raised themselves to look at each other in bewilderment. For they were no longer the Kings and Queens that had ruled over Narnia for many years. They had been returned to Peter, Susan, Edmund, and little Lucy, the children who had been sent away to the countryside to avoid the war.
They quickly found Professor Kirke, for they felt he could relate to them. And they felt they must explain to him why four of his coats were now missing. Together they told him of their time in Narnia, of defeating the White Witch, the many other battles they had fought, the friends they made, and the great parties they threw. Throughout it all, the Professor only smiled and seemed to grow younger as he listened to their tale of the magical land. Upon reaching the end, they apologized to him for losing his coats.
“Nonsense, your majesties.” He gave a small bow from where he sat in his chair. “I am honored that they were of use to you.”
“We could always try to go and get them back,” Lucy suggested, for such was her way to try to help those who she could, but the Professor shook his head.
“I don’t think you will be able to get to Narnia again by that route. Besides, I doubt you remember where the coats are anyways.” They smiled sheepishly at that. It had been many years since they had even thought of the coats. When winter did come to Narnia, much nicer coats were presented to them for warmth.
“Will we ever get back to Narnia?” Peter asked.
“I expect you shall,” the Professor responded. “Just when you are least expecting it. Afterall, once a king or queen in Narnia, always a king or queen in Narnia.” The four siblings exchanged worried glances. They had built a life, a kingdom, in Narnia and they had abandoned it. “For now, your majesties, I would suggest sleep. Your bodies are young once more and you have had quite the adventure today. We shall speak more in the coming days.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Peter said. “That is very wise advice. We shall retire to our chambers presently.” And in a gesture that seemed out of place in a young teenager’s body, he offered his arm to Susan and they led the other two back toward the bedrooms.

July Writing

July was catch up month. July was CampNaNoWriMo. July was also 007 Fest. It's the last one that kept me busy.

I wrote 15 stories, adding up to 27,975 words this past month. Sure it is not November, but I feel equally as exhausted. (Although this is partly because I was both a team captain and a mod for the group running it.) I challenged myself to write some things I would not have written otherwise and I am very proud of what I have come up with.

There are two stories I am particularly proud of. Misunderstandings was born of three Wordbound prompts and I finally feel like it is fairly reasonable with a decent amount of emotion.

I'm also proud of another story that is actually pseudocode format.

I am looking forward to jumping back into normal prompts, although my brain needs a couple days off from writing first.