doubleohblonde: (Bond is totally not imagining you naked)
Bond was quite pleased with how the previous day's lessons had gone, especially since none of his studetns had done anything particularly stupid. As a result, he decided to move up one of the more...relaxed lessons in the schedule for the next week.

The door to his office was open.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading intently)
Bond was in is office working on the next few weeks' lesson plans. He didn't want his students to get too complacent with his classes.

[open!]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is dubious)
Bond had considered this week's class a success, and was looking forward to something of lazy office hours today.

At least until he found the chorus of drunken skunks on his desk. Who couldn't even sing in key. This was shaping up to be a long day.

[Door is open!]
doubleohblonde: (Bond's ego doesn't fit in lifts)
Bond was in his office, cup of coffee in hand, going over his plans for tomorrows lesson. Since it was the final, he needed to come up with something different, something special.

The door was open.
doubleohblonde: (Bond calls this look Blue Steel)
Bond was supposedly working on his class for tomorrow, but instead was watching the sea out of his window with a pair of binoculars, a notepad, and a book on Bermuda Triangle disappearances.

After all, this was much more interesting, and he liked improvising.

[open]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is watching...something)
Rather than work on his class for tomorrow, Bond had decided to start planning next semester's classes. And to continue repressing the previous weekend as he had the last few days.

Mmm...repression.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading if you don't mind)
Safely ensconced in his office from the plague of birds that had followed him from the house, Bond was pouring over his lesson plan for the net day.

Which bore no resemblance whatsoever to a form-guide. None.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is a pirate and wants to die)
Much as Bond might have liked to have gone drinking and wenching last night, he had not.

This had not been because of the copious amounts of lace cravats, stockings, and rather silly hats his wardrobe suddenly contained. They mightn't have been to his taste, but he'd worn stranger in his time.

It was because of the long, luxurious, locks he was currently unsuccessfully trying to hack off with a letter opener. A man had his dignity after all.

[ooc: Door is closed. Post is wide, wide open.]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is leaning with intent)
Bond's office door was open, so any passers-by would have seen him sitting at his desk working on his lesson plan for tomorrow.

Admittedly, at this point in time it mostly consisted of making notes about which students not to pair up for fear of public indecency charges in between sips of a drink that was most definitely not alcoholic.

Because that would have been wrong.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is thoughtful and monochrome)
Bond was not napping in his office. He was preparing his lesson plan for Friday.

With his eyes closed. Yes. He knew the material that well.

[Door closed, post open.]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading if you don't mind)
Bond sat in his office with a stack of cook-books. Not so much because he was looking for a recipe as he was admiring the rather attractive pictures of food and the often very attractive makers of said food.

His office door was open.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading intently)
Bond sat in his office with the windows open to catch the breeze. Rather than plan his next lesson, he had a pulp spy novel and was mentally listing all the things which would have gotten the lead killed if he was real.

The door was open.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is sincere)
Given that it was, technically, the holidays, Bond felt he was justified in cutting back slightly on office hours.

At least, that's what he told himself.

[open]
doubleohblonde: (Bond is tired of this bull)
While he wouldn't say he'd lost track of time, Bond had spent the previous few days holed up working on his final for tomorrow. Of course, given the sheer amount of coffee he'd drunk, that didn't explain why he was yawning so much.

Every so often he frowned at his mug. Something wasn't right here.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is thoughtful and monochrome)
Another birthday successfully ignored, Bond settled in to start planning his final, given he had just over a week remaining before it.

Or at least he would have if not for the infestation of tiny sheep very interested in eating his paperwork.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is sincere)
Relieved by the lack of a repeat appearance of a horde of young children over the weekend, Bond was working on his lesson plan for Wednesday.

Very occasionally, something resembling a smirk crossed his features. Okay, not so much with the 'occasionally'.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is reading intently)
Bond hadn't seen any sign of small children on his way to his office this morning, so he felt reasonably secure in hoping that whatever had happened over the weekend had worn off.

To be on the same side though, he started working on a back-up class for Wednesday. Just in case.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is smugly relaxed)
There being a severe lack of peeps in England, Bond had collected quite a number of them yesterday after they'd hardened, and was now experimenting in ways to eat them.

Currently he was holding a skewer of them over a Bunsen burner he'd acquired somewhere.
doubleohblonde: (Bond has a sexy silhouette)
Looking like he'd had a completely and utterly eventless weekend, Bond was back in his office, looking over his notes and hoping Booth managed to keep himself out of trouble and not upset his TA again this week.
doubleohblonde: (Bond is leaning with intent)
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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James Bond

January 2016

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