You know my name

Bond had been going for a nice morning run. Operative word being 'had' as he suddenly went tumbling head over heels to the ground.

The unexpected lack of coordination could be attributed largely to the fact that Bond now, quite literally, had two left feet. As well as two right feet, and a very fluffy tail.

Standing and shaking, the husky that until very recently had been a teacher looked himself over as best he could. Oh well, he supposed this had to happen sooner or later.

[Establishy.]

Of course Bond's heating had to malfunction again today. It was almost as if some capricious higher power had it in for him.

Nevertheless, the door was open and he was in for any parents who wished to speak with him. Even if he was slightly less clothed than the previous two days.

The first thing Bond had done when he'd arrived at his office was to do a thorough search with gloves and a softball bat, before breaking into the emergency vodka to brace himself in case any parents wanted to talk with him.

The door was open for any visitors. Though it would be unwise to bring up last Monday's class with him.

His class notes on his desk, Bond was spending his time before class trying to at least find out what the problem was with his damned heater.

He was in the middle of examining the air vent when his hand brushed against something small, green and with far too many teeth that were quite quickly latched onto his wrist.

Swearing, he jerked his hand back, shaking off the gremlin. He eyed the row of teeth-marks with a frown, then started looking at his outfit with distaste. "I say," he said, his voice suddenly a lot more booming. "This will never do. I shall have to fix this immediately."

With that he rushed off.

[Establishy.]

There was a problem with the heating in Bond's office today. Somehow or the other, the thermostat had gotten stuck at too high a setting, and to further complicate matters, his window was jammed shut.

So after propping the door open, Bond now sat at his desk trying to look as professional as he possibly could while working without a shirt.

[Open! Not so much now as he's sliding towards NWS-ness with his visitor.]

Bond sat at his desk, working on next week's workshop.

There was absolutely no reason for him to look exceedingly pleased with himself, so therefore he clearly wasn't.

At all.

Really.

Bond had spent most of his week pretending that the previous weekend hadn't happened. Part of that had involved not doing anything the least bit connected with it. Including checking his email.

Which was why he was only now seeing the receipt for a sent but now deleted email, one he didn't remember sending. Oh, well, it had probably just going into the ether, never to return, like all the others he'd sent to that address over the last few months. No need to worry, right?

Bond was really looking forward to this whole homecoming brouhaha. Really. That was why he was asleep in his office chair with a book over his face.

So maybe he wasn't all that excited about it.

[Door closed, post open.]

Bond had started drinking yesterday afternoon, and despite pacing himself, hadn't really stopped since. He had, however, run out of his ready supply of alcohol in his room and since he had absolutely no desire to be there without the anaesthetic effects of 100 proof, he'd made his way to his office to raid his emergency stash.

If anyone asked, he'd claim he was preparing for class on Wednesday.

[door is closed, post is open]

While James would have been content for Vesper and himself not to leave his room until this whole business was over with, actually coming out and suggesting that would have defeated the purpose of the mutual self-deception they'd decided upon without actually talking about it (it being far, far easier to deceive yourself if you didn't come right out and say it, after all).

Which was why they were currently walking along the beach, like everything was completely normal.

[For one, and then one.]