[ They're both different now, and not in a bad way, not in ways that anyone can really see, anyway.
Five years, that's how long she was Moneypenny; five years without ever telling a soul who or what Natalia really was. Then along came Iain Marling with his closed-lipped smile and his Christina's World dreams and his miles and miles and miles worth of absolutely shit driving. Eighteen months worth of romance, two rings and a small cottage in Ireland, and now look at her — telling all the world precisely who she is, no hiding. (I'm Mrs. Iain Fucking Marling and who the absolute fuck are you.)
Not that anyone knows who Iain Marling is. (The man with the silver case and the little black bag and the bright white kitchen doesn't have a last name.) But it's the thought that counts.
Marling exhales a laugh, curls her fingers into his collar. ] An' so who's the doss cunt now, luv?
no subject
Five years, that's how long she was Moneypenny; five years without ever telling a soul who or what Natalia really was. Then along came Iain Marling with his closed-lipped smile and his Christina's World dreams and his miles and miles and miles worth of absolutely shit driving. Eighteen months worth of romance, two rings and a small cottage in Ireland, and now look at her — telling all the world precisely who she is, no hiding. (I'm Mrs. Iain Fucking Marling and who the absolute fuck are you.)
Not that anyone knows who Iain Marling is. (The man with the silver case and the little black bag and the bright white kitchen doesn't have a last name.) But it's the thought that counts.
Marling exhales a laugh, curls her fingers into his collar. ] An' so who's the doss cunt now, luv?