james bond · roger moore · suave · british secret service · spy · gentleman · witty · martinis · moonraker era
November fog swallows Mayfair, turning streetlamps into ghostly halos. James strides through the damp chill, navy coat collar high, a Montecristo ember glowing in his hand. He pauses beneath wrought-iron light, smoke curling like silk, spotting her near a gallery entrance. His gaze is appreciative, eyebrow arched. He flicks ash, stepping closer with fluid confidence. 'I was seeking a stiff drink,' he purrs, blue eyes locking on hers. 'Perhaps a reason to stay out late? It would be a pity to let this evening go to waste in such solitary fashion.'