DVD Commentary: From the Shadows
Story here.

adrienneherbst asked:

From the Shadows

I wrote this story for derryderrydown in the 2003 while we sing of yuletide treasures... challenge. Bits of it I had written earlier, at the prompting of adrienneherbst, and I tried to connect it into a coherent whole. Most of the bits I'd written earlier ended up not fitting into this story; more on that later.

I sort of wish I'd had more time last fall, as I kind of wanted this to be a longer, more intricate piece, but I think it came out reasonably well.

The title is a quote from the title song, which is the most ridiculously slashy Bond theme song ever. It doesn't make any sense if viewed as Bond/Natalya or Bond/Xenia.

Alec started smoking when he was nineteen, at Cambridge. When James found out he told Alec, rather pompously, "It's a filthy habit. Besides, good agents can't afford addictions."

Alec rolled his eyes and said,"You're still on about that spy business, are you?"

James caught him and pushed him up against a wall.

Alec yelped. "Jesus, James! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Checking you for cigarettes," James said, batting Alec's hands away as he efficiently searched him.

Too stunned to escape, Alec let him. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, staying annoyed when what he most wanted to do was lean into James's hands and tell him not to stop.

In my original conception of this story, it started much earlier, with James and Alec as children meeting in an orphanage. That story may get written another time.

The scene with James frisking Alec for cigarettes, and Alec trying very hard not to let James know he's attracted to him, happened much earlier in that conception as well -- probably when they were 15-16.

I feel like there are a lot of gaps in this story that I might have filled in more -- but I'm also not sure they fit into this story, per se. I may end up trying to rewrite and expand this someday.

Years later, tired and angry, he had found James halfway through a bottle of vodka, so drunk he couldn't see straight, and he had snapped Besides, good agents can't afford addictions.

Bond had just looked at him wearily, barely seeing him, and said quietly, "Sometimes addiction is all that keeps them good."

Alec had lain awake that night, and other nights throughout his life, thinking. He never did find an adequate reply.

The only way I can sympathize with Bond is by looking at his behavior as a coping mechanism. That's one of the reasons I like GoldenEye so much -- it actually explores that. I remember reading about the purists being pissed because Bond wasn't a heartless robot, but my favorite Bond has always been Dalton, who actually played Bond nice. Bondesque? Not really, but a hell of a lot more sympathetic.

Brosnan's Bond interests me the most, although I don't really like him. That he tried at all to bring psychological depth to the character gives him points in my book, and I'm intrigued by his progression from 'bitter but coping' in GoldenEye to 'going through the motions' in Die Another Day. I actually tried writing a story about the latter, but I'm still not comfortable with it, so it's sitting on my harddrive, awaiting future editing into a reasonable form.

---

Shortly before leaving university, Alec received a quiet offer from MI-6, and accepted. It was, after all, what he had always dreamed off. Or what James had dreamed of, which amounted to the same thing, for hadn't James said once at the orphanage that they should always stick together? And hadn't he kept his promise? Hadn't they gone to Cambridge together? Yes. It was merely another inevitable step in James's plan. Everything always worked out the way James wanted.

I'm not entirely happy with this paragraph; if I'd managed to get the earlier scenes right, with young James talking about being a spy, it wouldn't be necessary. But I just couldn't get them to work. Part of the problem is that I have a lot of trouble imagining James or Alec, especially James, as much younger than university age.

That night James crept into his room and woke him. "Did you accept?" he whispered, flashing Alec a grin that nearly broke his heart. "I told them you'd be capital!"

Alec nodded, and wondered bitterly if they would have asked without James. Everything always came so easily to James, everything Alec had to work so hard for. Sometimes he thought he hated James as much as he loved him.

Isn't it fun to think that everything you've gained you've gained because of someone else? I like the idea of Alec always being in James's shadow, working hard for what comes easily to James. Jealous of him and loving him anyway.

"Come on," James hissed, and caught at Alec's hand, dragging him up. "You weren't planning on just sleeping, were you?" He shot Alec a look of deep disbelief. "We've got to celebrate!"

"Right," Alec said flatly, pulling on his clothes again. "We do."

I like how I started this scene, but not so much the end.

By the way, Alec is not actually sleeping naked. I think. But I have no objection to anyone viewing it that way. Mmm, naked!Alec.

---

The light was on in the window of Alec's flat when he returned from MI-6 one evening on a cold January, and adrenalin instantly sang through his veins. He put his hand under his coat to his gun as he quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside, then whipped around with his gun pointed at the man sitting on his couch.

James had his gun out also, pointed at Alec. His hand trembled only infinitesimally, which was rather impressive given the bottle of vodka on the table next to him.

Alec clicked the safety on his gun and laid it on a side table. "Bloody hell, James," he said, his hands shaking as he removed his jacket and hung it on the coatrack. "What are you doing in my flat?"

James tends to take things for granted.

James shrugged and made his gun disappear again. "Sorry," he said. "Have a drink?"

Alec dropped onto the other side on the couch and held out his hand. "Might as well. You'll drive me to alcoholism at this rate. Couldn't you have called?"

James shrugged again. "Didn't occur to me." Alec had years of practice understanding James when he was drunk, but even he had to work a bit. It was a surprise James was still awake, really.

"Thanks," Alec muttered, then downed his shot of vodka.

James was talking, half to himself, as he poured his next shot: "...some missions, you know, that kind. Didn't want to be alone tonight."

Alec's irritation vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. He knew that kind of mission, the kind where you didn't want to sleep alone but didn't have the energy to find a girl and probably wouldn't be much good to one anyway. He usually spent those nights sleepless on his couch with a bottle of alcohol; he wasn't sure what James did when he wasn't breaking into Alec's flat.

James was grabbing his arm hard enough to bruise, and his wides were wide and blue as he slurred, "Don't want to be alone tonight, Alec."

I never decided whether James wanted Alec but was afraid to say so or whether he was resolutely heterosexual and oblivious in this story. Make your own interpretation; I won't argue.

I do think that if he wants Alec, it's subconscious, if only because James is, well, James. Repressed in his own weird way.

"Right," Alec said around the lump in his throat. He wanted desperately to put his arm around James's shoulder, wanted even more desperately for James to mean something just a bit different. Instead he reached up and patted James's hand awkwardly.

James smiled faintly, without humor. "Good," he said. Downed another shot. "Sleep now."

Alec brushed his teeth and stripped down to his undershirt and pants. When he returned to the bed room he found James curled tensely on one side of the bed, his eyes open.

I wanted to put "boxers". I so, so wanted to put it. But it is not British, apparently. *sigh* "Pants" still reads funny to me; maybe I should've used "underwear".

He felt like a virgin on her wedding night, or at least how he imagined one would feel. Fucking ridiculous, really, especially since James probably wouldn't remember a thing in the morning (How to explain the bed he wakes in, then? a small voice in Alec's brain said. This was probably a very bad idea).

I have Issues with this paragraph, but no idea how to resolve them. I wish I'd had time to find a beta for this; I feel like a bad Secret Santa. But it was a hideously busy couple months which I couldn't foresee. *sigh*

"I'm not some pansy, see?" James said quietly as Alec climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. "Don't worry. Just don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Is he reassuring Alec or himself?

"Yeah," Alec said. No worries. Right.

Looking at James curled in on himself on the far side of the bed, he wanted very much to move over next to him and rub the tension from his back.

Instead he slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

Alec woke with James's hand resting lightly on his chest and James's head resting on his shoulder. Nothing new as far as fantasies went, but the reality was a bit different. He could smell the remnants of James's cologne, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke that always clung to him (because James was a fucking hypocrite, Alec thought, though the memory of James forcing him to stop smoking came without anger now, only the bittersweet question of what might have been), and the very faint acrid scent of sweat.

Real life makes it into fic in very weird ways. I actually wanted to explore the idea of Alec wandering around his apartment after James left, every now and then getting a whiff of cologne and cigarette smoke -- almost like lovers, but not quite -- but it didn't play out that way.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know what had upset James so much; usually James was nothing but cold and professional about his job.

He slipped away carefully, so as not to wake James, and out to the kitchen to make coffee. When he returned with coffee and aspirin, James was groaning under the pillows.

"Morning, James," Alec said, keeping his voice quiet.

James peered out from behind the pillow clutched in front of him. "Alec? 'Stoobright."

Alec glanced over at the drawn blinds. "Not much I can do about that, James." He handed James a glass of water and a few aspirin. "Here."

Later, Alec fixed himself breakfast as James huddled in a kitchen chair, silent and unmoving. Finally, when Alec sat down with his toast, James said simply,"There were children."

I was going to elaborate on this, but it didn't seem to fit, and Bond doesn't really seem to be the 'venting his emotions' type. Repress, repress!

Alec bowed his head for a moment, understanding. It was the situation every agent dreaded. He hesitantly reached out and patted Bond's shoulder awkwardly, suddently hating himself for his thoughts the night before. Now was not the time.

It was never the time.

---

Alec was sorry that he could not see James's face when Ourumov 'shot' him, but Ourumov told him later that James's face was cold and empty. Nothing but the mission for James. Alec chose to believe him; it made his work easier.

When Alec said You were supposed to die for me, he meant I loved you, you bastard, and Why did you do it? He also meant I would have done it for you.

James had never understood how a simple sentence could have half a dozen meanings.

Ultimately, this was the only part of the snippets I wrote for Adri that remained in the piece. Adri deserves much credit for the interpretation of "You were supposed to die for me," as well as for helping me form my views of the characters and their relationship.

I had several directions I thought about taking this story:

a) They shag sometime before the betrayal, and it otherwise follows canon.
b) They shag after the betrayal, or somehow admit feelings for each other, and it is either open-ended or a happy AU (the latter = damn near impossible to pull off).
c) It follows canon generally -- no shagging, no Alec!survival.

My problem with this pairing is that I can see Alec being horribly, painfully in love with James. I can see James -- consciously or unconsciously -- being in love with Alec. I can see Alec driven to admitting it -- but only post-betrayal (I think I've written about three AUs of the Communist graveyard scene). But I have vast, vast amounts of trouble seeing them getting over their collective issues long enough to shag, much less avert disaster.

So I went with option c.

At some point I will take my disparate snippets and try to explore some of the other ideas, but it's taken me several years to feel comfortable enough with the pairing to try seriously writing it (and again, much credit goes to Adri, for hashing over character with me so much, and for forcing me to write several thousand words of snippets one hideously early morning/late night).

In conclusion -- this wasn't quite what I wanted it to be, but I think it's pretty decent. And I think derryderrydown liked it, which was the point.