doubleohblonde | Office Hours [All Day, Tuesday]

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Office Hours [All Day, Tuesday]

Bond had missed his office hours the day before due to a short head cold, and was holding them today instead.

Of course he seemed more interested playing on his computer than actually working.

Those poor soft toys.

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Aravis nodded slowly. "I am not her," she said quietly, though he knew that. "I don't know who she was, or what she meant to you, or how you behaved with her, but we are not the same person. Do not threaten my loved ones. I don't have very many anymore. Do it again and a slap will be the least of my actions against you."

Bond looked at her for a long moment. "Sit," he said, opening his desk drawer.

Aravis stared, since that wasn't at all what she had expected, but she sat. If he tried anything, she'd just scream or hit him or something.

Bond took out the bottle of Glenfiddich from the drawer as well as two glasses. He carefully poured out the whisky, then slid one of the glasses across to Aravis. "Drink."

Aravis raised a brow. "What?"

"Drink," Bond repeated, bringing his own tumbler to his lips.

She'd seen him pour from the same bottle. If he was poisoning her, he was poisoning himself as well.

She hesitantly sipped.

"She drowned," Bond said quietly, lowering his glass.

"Oh."

She didn't need to ask who.

"In front of me," Bond added after a moment, gazing thoughtfully at his glass. "The day before I came to this godforsaken island as it happens."

"No wonder you reacted to me as you did," she said quietly, not exactly unkindly.

"The kicker of it all was she didn't have to," Bond said. "I would hardly have held it against her if she'd chosen her own skin over mine."

Aravis nodded, processing that.

"You love her."

It wasn't a question, nor was it in past tense.

Bond nodded. "Very much so."

She was quiet for a long moment, and then simply said, "I am sad for your loss."

Bond inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"I didn't touch your young man," he said quietly. "Simply because I know what I intend to do to those responsible for what happened to her."

"I know that now," she said quietly, nodding once. "I -- he's all I've got. Everyone else has died or might as well have. So...I understand."

Bond studied her for a long moment. "Yes, I think you might."

Aravis shrugged a shoulder. "And I...if it would be easier on you, in my native country, the women cover their faces in veils. I still have some, if it would help."

Bond shook his head. "Not, that's not necessary. Thank you for the offer though."

She nodded. "What are we drinking?" she asked, turning her attention to the liquid still in her glass.

"Glenfiddich, single malt Scotch whiskey," Bond replied. "Good vintage too."

"I have no idea what any of that means," she admitted.

"It means it's very good, fairly expensive alcohol," Bond said with a shrug.

"Oh." Aravis sniffed it and sipped some more. "It's not bad."

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