#tree shaker 007

[iromyshop]

how often we see the tattoo of a butterfly... everybody forgets about the caterpillar. _ . _ . the most important part of the butterfly. _ .#treeshaker007 #iromyshop #roazzzman #rozzzman <-__-> #hopeisdope imagime the catarpillar #hopeless how far it would not go...

[feelingfredly]

MI6-Hundred Thousand Scoville Heat Units, Or, The Heat It Takes to Make an M

Summary: MI6 is full of survivors.  The new M, Gareth Mallory, should fit right in.             

Notes:  This little fic touches on surviving torture and PTSD survival.  If you're struggling with that sort of thing, be kind to yourself and find another ficlet to cuddle up with.  It isn't graphic at all, but I wanted to put out the warning.

Thanks!Still finding my way through the 007-verse.  Hope you enjoy the little journey. :)

“Miss Moneypenny,” M said, voice quiet but firm as he flipped through the stack of documents in his hand.  “I’m afraid something has come up and I won’t be able to meet with the department heads for the breakfast meeting tomorrow. I believe I have an opening Thursday afternoon, if you’d be kind enough to see to it.”

Nimble fingers were already checking the computer and sending out his apologies.  Not that he needed to apologize, but it was the done thing. “Yes, sir.  The department heads have been notified, and if any of them have conflicts…” He raised an eyebrow and Moneypenny ground to a halt.  “Yes, sir.  I will make sure they know that this takes priority. Is there anything else?”

M finished flipping through the papers in his hand, pulled a pen out and scribbled his initial on a few lines and passed them across the mahogany surface.  “No thank you, Moneypenny.  That will be all for now.”

He sighed as he passed back into his office and closed the door. Another bullet dodged.

***

Where was the chili oil?

“You do understand, M, that these agents of yours don’t actually have a license to run roughshod over the law.  They have to answer to someone.”

And that someone will never be you.  As M, his was the last word when it came to his agents and he wasn’t about to pass them over to some bean counter who had never sacrificed a day in his life for Queen and country.

He raised a finger to get the attention of their server.  “Chili oil, please.”

The server gave a tiny bow and turned with an, “Of course, sir.” before disappearing into the back of the restaurant. Across the white linen tablecloth, the MP he was ignoring began to notice that he was being ignored.

“I say, surely you realize…”

M cut him off with a raised finger.  “Surely you realize that what my agents do, or do not do, is my purview, and ultimately, mine alone. The legality of their actions is defined much more stringently than the actions of MPs, such as yourself, or even the PM herself. If you have a problem with something that one of my people has done, you are by all means welcome to lodge a complaint through the proper channels. Oh good, here it is—” He looked up at the server carrying the small container of chili oil with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The server dissolved in the way that excellent servants did—only visible when needed, and never when not—and he began to douse the white fish he’d been served liberally, and the man across the table raised both eyebrows in astonishment.

“You’re not going to eat that?” The MP cleared his throat and lowered his voice, apparently a little embarrassed to have been so caught off guard as to blurt something out like that.

“You’d be surprised,” was all M replied, finally raising his fork to his mouth and tucking into his luncheon with satisfaction.

***

“Santa Baby, slip the sable under the tree, for me…” 004 serenaded the office party with his best torch singer’s voice, wiggling a feather boa at anyone who got close enough for him to tease, “I’ve been an awful good girl, Santa Baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight.”

“Been just awful, you mean,” another voice piped up from the back of the room, clear as a bell. “How many explosions on your tally, so far? If I remember correctly, two more and you’ll pass 006.”  Q’s face was pink from a little too much holiday cheer, but he still had Q-Branch under control.  Thankfully. His minions got stroppy quickly if things went wrong, but Q always seemed to know how to calm them.

Like Hagrid and his pets. Now wasn’t that a picture?

M pushed his way further into the room and paused where everyone could see him.  Startling a group studded with 00 agents was never a good idea.

“Happy Christmas to you all!” He smiled as broadly as was acceptable for a member of upper management and raised his laden arms.  “Father Christmas was busy, so I told him I’d drop this lot off.”

Several of the Q-Branch staffers skittered forward and helped him set down the gifts he’d brought, his smile a little less forced as he watched them happily digging through of the packages. He didn’t go in for the departmental Secret Santa gift exchanges—he always thought it ironic that spies loved spying on each other under the auspices of figuring out the perfect gift—but he was no Scrooge, and he appreciated his people.  They sacrificed more than most would ever be aware of, and even though they chose the life, that didn’t make their sacrifices any less important.

“Just the man we were hoping to see,” came a voice from the corner.  007 was lounging against the corner of a desk, looking for all the world like Q Branch had been tailored to fit him like one of his damned suits.  He waved a tumbler of what was probably very good scotch at Q, and the younger man nodded.

“Masters,” he said, “would you pop into my office and grab the box on the corner of my desk?  It should have a tag on it.”

The young blond fellow hopped up, disappearing into Q’s office for a moment and returning with an enormous basket with a red bow and an index card with a big green M on it.

“This is for you, I guess, sir,” he said, handing M the basket with a nod and a smile before plopping back at his desk and resuming his conversation.  

M looked down into the basket expecting his typical bottle of rum, if they’d realized that was his preference, or whiskey if they were still shopping for the old M.  Not that he minded.  Some nights, whatever was available was fine.

That wasn’t the case, though. Instead of alcohol—or, actually in addition to alcohol, because there was indeed a pair of bottles of Pusser’s in the bottom—but on top, there was… well, there was so much it was almost overwhelming.

He recognized hot British mustard, and a jar of Calabrian pepper sauce.  There was Szechuan chili oil, and hot pickled giardiniera.  There was even a bright red bottle of something called Dave’s Insanity Sauce.  

He picked the last up out of the basket and looked at the little tag on it.  From: Felix Leiter—with the CIA’s apologies to your stomach.

All the bottles had tags. Most were from 00’s.  One, with a handwritten label, was from Moneypenny. There was even a box of spicy chili laced chocolates with a tag that said, “Life isn’t worth living without chocolate –Happy Christmas from Q-Branch.”

He looked up and noticed the three best, or worst, of his charges had crossed the space to stand before him.

Bond swallowed a mouthful of scotch and nodded to the chaotic pile of condiments. “Alec tried to sneak in a salt-shaker full of gunpowder—he tried it one very memorable weekend in Siberia—but we convinced him that we didn’t actually want to poison you.”

M nodded. “I appreciate that.  Truly.”

Moneypenny grinned.  “One of those is my grandmother’s spicy pickapeppa sauce, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Q use it as a degreaser in the lab, so be warned.”

Q shuddered.  “That stuff should be weaponized.  Wait.  I could….”

“Q!” Moneypenny punched him lightly in the shoulder and they shared a grin.

M stared at the little group, and then realized the other 00’s were watching them from their spots around the room.

Bond raised a shoulder. “We hope you don’t mind, but it was important to us,” he nodded, “to all of us, that we do this first Christmas right. We know we aren’t the most welcoming bunch.”

Q snorted into his drink, and 007 threw him a dry look.  “Most of us had a love/hate relationship with your predecessor, and unfortunately you got the brunt of it after Skyfall.”

M shifted the basket in his hands, trying to think of what to say.  He couldn’t think of anything.

Moneypenny took pity on him. “After a month and a half of rescheduling breakfast meetings, it became pretty obvious that they were never going to work for some reason.”

Q nodded. “I, for one, am very grateful for that fact—who wants to deal with bureaucracy before they’ve even had their tea—but, still.  Knowing that it was a thing, didn’t explain what it was, or why.”

007 met his eye and they shared a look of understanding.  “It wasn’t hard for the agents to figure out.  You aren’t one of us now, but you were once—or at least close enough for government work.” They all laughed at that, and Bond went on. “All the 00’s have things we avoid.  I swear Alec would shoot someone if they tried to feed him borscht.”  He looked grim. “Six weeks of eating nothing but rotten beets, and those rarely…” he didn’t say anymore.  He didn’t need to.

Mallory had spent three brutal months in the hands of the IRA, and they’d left their mark.  Or marks.  He’d found that the scars could be explained away, but the horror he felt at the scent of gluey oats, or the panic he felt at the smell of over-boiled cabbage and spoiled potatoes.  He’d been starved enough to eat anything, and then sick as a dog when he did.  It changed a man.

He looked around the room and felt closer to the 00’s than he ever had.  It changed all of them.

Q raised his glass, “So, we decided that this year our Christmas mission was to make sure that, you, as our new M—who is now stuck with us, for better or for worse—never ran out of what it takes for you to do the job. Whatever it happened to be. Even,” he picked up a cut glass jar full of candy and tilted it so he could read the label, “habanero flavored jellybeans.”

M nodded once, firmly, and shifted the weight of his present a little awkwardly, as yet unable to find his tongue.  Luckily, Moneypenny had no such problem.

“Now,” she reached in with a grin and grabbed the Pusser’s before heading back towards the rest of the partygoers. “Who’s going to let me show you how to make a proper Painkiller? Anyone?”

Q smiled and raised his glass in a little toast before sidling away, just leaving M and Bond.

“Happy Christmas,” Bond paused. “M.”

He looked at the other man and recognized the compliment in the use of his title.

“Happy Christmas yourself, 007.  And thank you.”

[iromyshop]

this purple heart is still available to make an offer on, and I am also doing what's called "blue chip" art, because these will last so long with acrylic, paint, and a lot of love... the price to me is priceless in just 1 rose because of the love it has. Meaning many roses combined that'll last this thing is worth billions... Make an offer though send me a message on here. Thanks ! - Joey

[iromyshop]

drank coffee not beer - the crowd... they'd disagree.. and it doesn't make them right... one thing in my years of being sober that I've learned, bad role models and adults who are mentally sick... they will actually get upset if you yourself try to preach sobriety or worse they will just try to give you stuff to "get on their level".... that's why I'm an artist and it's nothin' when people look at me for being different... there is a lot more to me that's different than just art... one of them is sobriety. Better yet... the song is a good one by Klyne, called Water.. and water is healthier than beer and coffee? maybe idk... coffee has some studies that say its healthier than h20.

[iromyshop]

a fluer de lis.. to bring strength protection, good energy, to faith who find my page. thanks for being here!

[iromyshop]

caught sadly, dirty police... sucks :( supposed to be leaders and do good why gotta act like dum___ses ? ppl need good security not wrong doing security. put me in a tough spot.

[iromyshop]

i have some cool greeting card supplies just sitting... send cash app @ treeshaker007 and I will send in fhe mail just put address, name in notes or I can use cash app name... also I can send to a fedex locatiom closest to you just do need name for pickup... some of the cards are cool I'm a creator though, and lately not much extra time for all the time it requires to create and sell all the art I make... I have been using extra time to focus on larger pieces. Please see the post below/above for more details! Thanks for spending a little bit of your valuable time here!

[iromyshop]

Are you a vermont lawyer or law firm and somebody anonymous told you not to take the rosemans estate case? are you just some random person and want a cool card... I am sending cards.. $3.50 non vt resident and $2.50 vermont resident.. good for 1 year. cash app @treeshaker007 and include shipping address.. if you want you can ship to a fedex location just have some kind of id/paperwork for pickup, and include name and their address in the note... such a messy time in my life, and for some reason so many vermont lawyers I hand pick to ask for help have same stupid advice.. they tried to purposely bury me, and my evidence.. THANK GOD I just started sending evidence out of state... seriously... and to anyone that just wants a cool card with a date, your name.. that is all membership card is... thanks for being here! Your time is the most valuable thing.. many don't realize I realize it.. your time is valuable, and thanks for spending a little bit here! ___ see I have a ton of items.. greeting cards, stickers, just nothing is listed anywhere and my time has been limited doing very different things and putting safety first other than only focusing on roses, and in rose time I've focused on larger pieces. I do have a ton of greeting card supplies and want to do something with them.

[iromyshop]

was up early today... I know some friends of mine wake up and say "wooooah rose man up early again" some enemies wake up and say "nooo he up early again" _ < - __ - > (<-__->)

[iromyshop]

coffee and more coffee

[iromyshop]

gettin' creative just making random shapes with art, this piece is available make an offer I ship potentially world-wide if you cover shipping. I like strong stromg coffee eye usually do a mix of 2/3rd regular and 1/3rd expresso...

[iromyshop]

coffee lover

[iromyshop]

the story of how I got this is pretty cool. Sadly at that time in history my grandpa passed away and people were forcing poor grandma into a home... they were going to hire random movers to just throw everything in the house away to sell as quick as possible, I said "no f'n way there is probably cool memorabilia in there" and by myself I cleaned out their entire house. I found cartoons my grandpa made for my grandma and it did give me the idea to maybe start my own clean out business. Was a lot of work though and one family member did stop by on weekends, they also were trying to rush me even though I did go 7 days a week non-stop. If anyone needs a hand with a clean out I do understand that things like photos; cartoons, some items they are worth saving and digging through to find. As the saying goes "needle in a haystack" there are thosr items that cannot be replaced... good people are like that. Another story for another time, painting this and right now has a lot of stories wrapped into one. Thanks to the good people out there is how I'll end the writing here. You're appreciated even if the world at times does not see yer value!

[iromyshop]

I am offering to the crowd a 55% you 55% me commission split, instead of doing classic 50/50 art gallery style. I'd rather give chance to regular people, and since roses stand for love.. tryinf to show a little love. Here is a piece that's in an upcycled recycled piano back, handmade roses, acrylic paint and art resin.

[iromyshop]