C.H.U.R.C.H. WAS A POORLY KEPT SECRET. No one truly knew what it was, how to join, or what it did, but they knew it existed and that no one was supposed to know it did. There were some theories that it didn't exist at all, that it was all a ruse to pull attention from a real secret organization that operated without anyone's knowledge, and others thought that conspiracy was in of itself a conspiracy to cover up the truth that C.H.U.R.C.H. is indeed real. Either way, no matter what anyone believed, C.H.U.R.C.H. was rather mysterious.

Which was why it was a pain in the ass to actually get to the office.

There were a multitude of ways depending on where the agent was located and which building they were trying to access, but Arthur always took the same one, knowing full well that his neighbors were nosy enough to follow him some days to see where he worked, which didn't necessarily help in keeping a low profile.

Fortunately, his neighbors knew he was a secretary, so it would make sense that he would go into an office building, which was exactly where he went. It wasn't as exciting as some of the other entry points that he knew were around, and hardly any of those were as exciting as some he had only heard of, but he couldn't find much in him to complain.

He stepped in through the doors, grinning at the familiar receptionist at the front desk. "All right?"

"All right," she replied, reaching for something barely out of sight.

Arthur stepped forward, watching as the receptionist placed the small fingerprint scanner on the counter next to the cup full of pens that Arthur knew were all dry because he had tested them all one day when he had been afraid to go into work.

"You think they'll fire you today?" the receptionist asked, because she was there when he had tested all the pens and refused to let him live it down.

"Hilarious," he drawled, pulling his thumb away when the scanner lit up, waiting for her to wave him along.

"I know I am," she said, shooing him away, hiding the fingerprint scanner as a civilian stepped inside, oblivious to the building's secondary purpose.

Arthur continued on his way, feet carrying him through the various hallways, flashing a smile to whomever he passed, hardly any of them aware of who he was and what he actually did for a living. He waited until the hallway cleared out before pressing his hand against the part of the monochromatic wall just above the decorative trim three quarters of the way up the wall, feeling it pulse slightly before a section of the wall separated, revealing itself to be a door.

Arthur fought the urge to whistle or hum as he walked inside and closed it behind him, leaning back against the wall as he looked down at the stairs taking him further underground; there were dim lights that led his way, but other than that he couldn't see a thing.

With practiced ease, he began his descent, attention caught by the messages appearing in the top left corner of his left lens, his handler updating him on the current happenings in the office, as well as telling him to hurry up and clock in before his scheduled meeting.

Arthur's eyes darted along the keyboard that appeared in his vision, sending his response back with a slight twitch of his cheek, focusing back on his surroundings just in time to step onto the landing, attention drawn to the small metro car in front of him.

He stepped inside, unsurprised to find that it was empty; from what he could tell, no other agents reached the office buildings through West Riding; or, at least, none that operated in the same building that he did.

He sat down and buckled up, closing his eyes as he felt the train begin to move, immediately alerted to his presence when the seatbelt engaged. He didn't necessarily get motion sickness—it was basically beat out of him during training—but he never could get his mind to wrap around the train's movement in relation to the blank walls whizzing by; it felt like he was standing still and moving at varying speeds all at once, and he realized early on that needing a twenty-minute breather before debriefings and time sensitive missions weren't going to cut it.

The train came to a stop not soon after, the seatbelts retracting automatically as the doors slid open, and he jumped to his feet, stepping out onto the landing, already hearing the sound of the hustle and bustle of the hub at the other end of the hallway.

Another message arrived from his handler, this time just a series of exclamation points with angry face emoticons, and Arthur couldn't fight the bark of laughter that preceded his entry into the hub, catching the attention of a few agents for a moment before they continued on their way.

Normally, Arthur would take a quick moment to scan the room, see if anything important was happening, or just to let himself soak it in and realize that this was his life and was worth every nosy question and judgmental look thrown his way, because he was living the life some could only dream of.

But he didn't have time to reflect on anything at the moment, because his handler was on the second level, staring a hole into the side of his head to try and get his attention, and Arthur did love to rile him up, but it seemed things were too urgent for fun and games.

"Walter," he greeted, jogging up the last few steps to meet his handler half way, "Did you press the wrong button or do I actually have a red mission?"

"For your sake, I'm going to pretend you didn't imply I'm capable of making mistakes," the older man began, already turned around and walking to one of the many hallways.

This particular hallway, Arthur noticed with delight, being the one that led to the debriefing rooms for higher level operations. 

The delight, however, turned into pure shock when Walter started towards the door at the very end of the hall; the door Arthur had already resigned himself to never being able to enter.

"I'm as shocked as you are," was all the preamble his handler gave before he pushed open the door and ushered Arthur inside.

The two leaned back against the closed door, taking it all in, and Arthur was too frozen to try and sneak a glance at Walter to see what his reaction was, but after a moment decided that, since he never cared much about keeping his opinions to himself before, this time should be no different.

"It's not as impressive as I thought it would be," he admitted, sauntering over to the large table that sat in the middle of the room, "I thought it would be more exciting. It just looks like an office. Where are the toys?"

"Why would they keep the toys here, Bond, it's just a debriefing room," Walter scoffed, moving to the opposite side of the table, leaning against it.

"For the ambience," the younger man argued, grinning wolfishly as he rushed over and crowded into his handler's space.

"Bond..."

"Walter..."

"Why can't you use my last name like everyone else?" Walter sighed, lightly pushing at Arthur's shoulder, his frown a mix of approval and annoyance when the agent stood firm in place.

"Because what we have is special," Arthur drawled, unable to fight back his grin, "And it's fun to see everyone more flustered and upset than you are when I do things like this."

To emphasize his point, he tapped at one of Walter's sinfully long legs, trying to get him to widen his stance to let him step closer, but he had yet to convince the man to put up with that particular game, his handler placing a hand on his chest and placing an arm's length of distance away, Arthur going easily.

Of course, because Arthur was a child, he pushed back against the arm, Walter scoffing as he brought up his other hand, and it was all fun and games until Arthur decided to push harder, immediately crowding into Walter's space, making exaggerated kissing noises as his face was shoved back, his handler telling him to behave.

The reason being, at that exact moment, the door opened.

Time ceased to exist as Arthur stared back at the five men who were well over twice his age and all just about ready to keel over at what, from an outsider's perspective, was an incredibly inappropriate scene.

"Ah..." Arthur cleared his throat, though it cracked regardless, "Hi?"

Before any of the men could find their voices, the head of C.H.U.R.C.H.—who was most likely present during the formation of the organization's backronymical namesake—pushed his way into the room, hardly sparing a glance Arthur's way as he moved to sit at the head of the table.

"For God's sake, Bond, can you just, for once, pretend to have some shame in being such a blatant hussy," Emsworth hacked, adjusting his seat before giving him a pointed look.

Arthur grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets as he sauntered over to the seat on the man's right, nodding at the other old men who were still gathered in the doorway, openly staring. Despite Walter's less-than-discreet motions for him to sit in a different chair, Arthur sat down, unbuttoning his suit jacket and leaning back.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a red mission, sir? Unless, of course, this was all a ruse to discuss my workplace conduct. Again." Arthur's grin only widened when Walter sent him a murderous glare, blue eyes flashing even behind his glasses.

Emsworth sighed. "Bond. Even though you're a shameless tart and a pain in the arse, your success rates are above average for seasoned agent, let alone one with as limited experience as yourself, and interpersonal skills in agents are scarce, much less the level you possess, so, unfortunately, you're the best suited for the job."

"That might be the kindest thing you've ever said to me, sir," Arthur said, sharing a look with Walter.

While he would never look a gift horse in the mouth, he couldn't help but feel as though something was a little off, but even if he pinpointed the source, he would never say; he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity because of some paranoia and insecurity.

"Gentlemen, will you be standing there all day or would you like to sit down before we all break a hip," Emsworth called, motioning for the other men to sit down.

Arthur turned in his seat, offering a polite smile as he watched his superiors all try to pretend like they didn't just have a collective aneurysm and weren't currently fighting for the seats furthest from him, avoiding eye contact.

He turned his attention to Walter who, despite glaring a hole into his forehead since they sat down, was now rubbing his mouth to hide his smile, offering Arthur a raised eyebrow; for Walter, that was the equivalent of laughing during a funeral.

"Bond," Emsworth began, because he was old and experienced enough to get away with being impatient, "To put this as simply as possible, you're going to be the main point and security detail for Ambassador Lowenstein's trip to the United States."

Arthur blinked. "The red mission is to be a bodyguard?"

"Stop calling them that," Walter sighed, words muffled behind his hand, though he couldn't hide his wince when Emsworth cast him a warning look.

"I'm flattered, sir, but I'm pretty sure they can find a cop to be Lowenstein's PPO," Arthur pointed out, noticing that Walter was nodding in agreement; more of a shock than anything else.

"If they could, do you think we would be wasting our time here? With you, no less?" Emsworth countered, and Arthur couldn't argue with that logic, no matter how many alarm bells were screaming at him to do just that.

"Alright then, sir," Arthur sighed, glancing over towards Walter for confirmation, "If you're serious about it, then I will be too."

Emsworth snorted. "Since when are you serious about anything, Bond?"

Arthur opened his mouth, halfway through coming up with a witty remark, but the attention had already moved away from him and onto the other old men who had yet to demonstrate their reason for being in the room in the first place.

"You'll find everything you need in these files," the man beside Walter said, pushing a stack of files towards Arthur who fought back a groan as he pulled them closer.

"I didn't realize there would be a debriefing now, sir," Walter said, brow furrowed, and Arthur couldn't swallow a whimper at the sight of his handler's delicate features being marred by such distress.

"This is an unconventional exception, Doherty, don't blow a gasket," Emsworth said with a dismissive wave, though Walter didn't seem any relieved; if anything, his frown deepened.

With a deep breath, Arthur braced his feet against the floor, testing the wheels of his chair. With a push of the files towards the center of the table, he set off, maneuvering around the head of C.H.U.R.C.H. to stop beside his handler, straining to pull the files over and into Walter's lap.

"It's probably best if you read them while they present, I'll read over your shoulder," Arthur explained, motioning for the men to continue their debriefing.

While the geriatric agents sans Emsworth were baffled by the display and would no doubt write lengthy reports about his lack of professionalism and their concerns about what kind of people the organization was employing, the only reaction Arthur cared about was from Walter.

Arthur wasn't the only agent under Walter's watch, but he was the only one that had been in his flat, had overheard all the conversations the older man had tried to keep hidden, knew all about the sizable chip on his shoulder that made him exactly who he was; he knew that the mask of severe professionalism he wore was more of the truth than anyone would ever know, and that for all it stood strong, the ice of his facade was paper thin, and a large blow would do nothing, but a concentrated tap would collapse it completely.

"Alright," Walter whispered, and Arthur could see in his eyes that his handler knew exactly what he was trying to say.

"Let's get on with it then," Arthur said, making a rolling motion with his finger, eyebrows raised in mock expectation.

There was a pregnant pause wherein Arthur was sure at least one of them was having a conniption, but it was broken by Emsworth who, after realizing that Arthur had so thoroughly caught them of guard that they would not be able to compose themselves until after the debriefing, clapped his hands and barked the order.

"Yes, well," the original man coughed, "The files have all the information you need regarding Ambassador Lowenstein, the itinerary, where you will be staying, and the people he is expected to meet with. There is also a list of individuals that you should keep an eye on should you cross them. Any information discovered along the way will be directed to you by your handler via our secure networks."

The man tapped the side of his glasses and Arthur smirked, doing the same. He glanced over to Walter who was already finished with one of the larger files, moving on to one of the many others. Arthur tried to read along with him, but he lost interest within the first two lines.

Unfortunately, Emsworth wasn't head of C.H.U.R.C.H. for nothing, so he noticed Arthur's apathetic dismissal. "You'd best get to reading, Bond. And I wouldn't wait to start making calls about a sitter and cancelling dinner plans."

Arthur frowned, looking over to Walter who was just as confused. "When am I leaving, sir?"

It wasn't the first time Arthur had felt the sharp prick of unease when faced with Emsworth's enigmatic smirk, a dark gleam in his eye, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this time was different than all the others. 

Rather than feeling like a lamb cornered by a wolf, he felt like the weak link of the pack, led to his demise without a clue as to why, but the foreboding sense that, no matter the numbers, he was the lone wolf against the pack.

"Now."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 03.29.21 )

I retroactively added this into the intro, but for those wondering, Walter's faceclaim is Cillian Murphy. Imagine him younger in Part 1 (circa Inception) and his current self in Part 2 (I know he's younger than Martin and Colin, but he fits the role so let's pretend thank you)

I have no shame in admitting that lots of the tech glasses were inspired by Kingsman and the subway train thing was inspired by Men in Black: International, they're honestly iconic and helpful and I figured I might as well just fiddle around with those concepts. And I don't know much about being a bodyguard for government official, all the technicalities I'm gleaning from the show Bodyguard.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!