Bond. James Bond. (double_0_seven) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-04-17 16:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, ~john mitchell (oe) |
Who? Bond & Q
Where? The pub, then his apartment.
When? After Mitchell's text.
What? The Bond Pick-Up Service.
Status? Closed, ongoing. (Unless Mitchell wants a cameo appearance.)
Rating? Potentially High.
Vesper's arrival on the island had hit James hard. It was no secret that he had a tendency to drink too much, but he was normally able to remain in control of himself well enough to make it home and sleep it off. This time, it was different. He'd drank heavily, and quickly, knocking back far too much whiskey on an empty stomach. By the time Mitchell had even noticed that something was up, it was too late.
He'd attempted to leave of his own accord a couple of times, and ended up just stumbling into tables until Mitchell had insisted that he sat down and didn't do himself an injury. Now, he was slumped in a chair, his forehead pressed against the table. There was a glass of water untouched next to him. He was still fully conscious, aware that he was a mess, aware that he needed to sit up and pretend to be a functioning human being, but he just couldn't anymore.