If you get any of the multiple spy jokes, laugh. If you don't, mail me.

Thank you.

St. Pete Wisdom -- VIGNETTES

Part 1  

The room was dimly lit, and smoky. A few dismal pictures lined the wall, and several clearly illegal things were happening in that rathole. In one corner, a man slouched, nursing a whiskey and cigarette. A voice sounded from behind him.

"So, we meet again, Mr Wisdom."

He'd heard that voice before. "Bloody 'ell, Bond, ain't yer got someone ter entertain in bed?" Pete growled, refusing to turn around. Cigarette smoke curled around his head.

"I don't think so. But you are going to have to explain some things to M."

"Tell 'er she's nice and all, but I ain't goin' ter work fer MI6, and yer can take 'at ter yer grave."

"Oh, it's not that at all," and suddenly the barrel of a Walther PPK, the silencer resting comfortably against Pete's temple, pressed into him. He hadn't heard anything at all. "It's slightly more personal this time."

"Look, mate," Pete said, only slightly unnerved by his opponent's skill, "I was sorry fer yer, OK? How'd I know she was goin ter turn on MI6? Called herself Frost and I ain't got no idea who else she wanted ter call 'erself before 'en."

"Not that either." Pete could feel the cold, articulate cruelty in the seductive voice that would disarm women by the thousands even more than the cold plastic from the muzzle.

"What 'en?"

"Kitty."

Pete knew then he was doomed. "Wot about 'er, then?" he said, masking his fear as best he could.

His opponent knew he was onto something, and a steel glint of a smile twitched his mouth ever so slightly up. "Who else is good enough to break into MI6 and and then hack into its top level files? Not you alone. But with her..."

"I got nothing."

"And why has the file on Britain's top secret agent having intimate relations with Ms. Moneypenny been copied? WITH THE SOPPY PICNIC PICTURES AND AT HOME LOUNGING???"

"Look, ter be honest, Kitty an' I, we thought it was pretty sweet."

"Hand over the tapes, and and I might let you live."

Pete shuffled in his pockets and brought out a CD, which he placed gingerly on the table in front of him. A hand reached down and picked it up. "Thank you, Mr Wisdom. Sloppy as usual, but not everyone in the business can reach even your level." The gun barrel lowered from Pete's head. "Hope you don't see me again in a while, Mr Wisdom."

When Pete turned around, he was gone. He smiled devlishly, and then pulled his face off. Kitty Pryde brushed an errant piece of latex from her nose and left the blob of plastic on the table as she tapped a device at her throat.

"Ooh, nice to be speaking normally again," she said. She patted her trenchcoat to make sure her other CD was still there. "Amateurs, those career spies." she muttered, much amused. A quick run to the Sun, and the world's most famous spy would be forced to admit his long running relationship with the secretary of his boss. It was a job well done.      

THE END

This can be fitted in anywhere in the St. Pete Continuum. Hope you enjoyed it!