Hour 9
“Maud.”
Ginny scoffs, “Certainly not. Eve.”
“Dink,” he insists.
“Pam Bouvier.”
He taps his fingers mindlessly on the steering wheel, “Christmas Jones.”
“Holly Goodhead,” she suggests far too casually.
Draco clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “No. Helga.”
Ginny huffs, annoyed, and folds her arms over her chest. She’s silent for a minute before speaking again, a hint of mischief in her tone. “Which is more provocative, Mr. Bond, Pussy Galore or Octopussy?”
His brain barely had time to process the heat of the coffee before instinct kicked in. A violent spray of steaming liquid erupted from his mouth, splattering over the radio, seeping into the buttons, leaving streaks cascading down the windshield like some caffeinated rainstorm. The smell of coffee mixed with the scent of awkwardness hung thick in the air as a string of expletives flew out of his mouth. “Why are you the way that you are?”
Ginny lets out a small chuckle, settling into her seat. “If you wanted a Sir Frederick whoever, you should have brought someone else.”
Draco briefly debates the legal consequences of throwing a passenger out of a moving vehicle before cursing silently to himself. “If they would have been available, I would have.”
Ginny turns to gape at him. “You mean to tell me that you kidnapped me as a last resort?”
“It certainly wasn’t my first preference.”
“I am- I am so offended,” she sputters.
Draco cocks a brow, “Because?”
“Kidnapping me should not have been an afterthought,” she clips out, visibly agitated.
The corners of Draco’s mouth twitch, and he fights to keep his expression even. “Apologies, Dink,” his mouth twitches again as he hears her groan, “I will make sure to consider kidnapping you first next time. Perhaps I will even go as far as not asking if you’re busy.”
“We did not agree on Dink,” she rolls her eyes.
Draco chuckles, “We didn’t agree on anything. The nickname is for me, not for you.”
Ginny throws her hands in the hair, “More offensive behavior. If I’m helping you find her, I get a nickname too. I’ll call you James Bond and you can call me Pussy Galore, please and thank you.”
“Oh,” Draco shakes his head vehemently, “I won’t be doing that.”
Ginny sinks into her seat with a pout as they pass the sign welcoming them to The City of Angels.
~***~
Hotel check-in time was still several hours away, so they had opted to go for a walk to search for food, providing them time to strategize. Draco had just finished paying the vendor for their street tacos, when he started talking again. “Alright, James Bond. Favorite stars. There’s no better place than L.A. We just need to figure out where she would have left clues. Do you have any-“ he stopped, mouth open like a fish searching for water and stared, wide-eyed at the person in front of him.
“Wha?” Ginny garbled; her mouth clearly full of half of her first taco.
“Do you often unhinge your own jaw when you eat?” He cocked his head to the side, taking a gentleman’s bite of his own taco.
Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she stuffed the rest of her taco in her mouth and started to chew. She maintained strong eye contact until she finally swallowed. “I’ll have you know,” she jabbed a finger into his chest, “my brothers often stole all the food off my plate if I didn’t eat fast enough.”
Draco merely nodded in response, despite having no idea what having siblings was like, and took another bite of his taco as he started to walk to the corner of the street, stopping at a news stand.
Ginny paused next to him, picking up a magazine and leisurely flipping through the pages.
Draco hummed quietly to himself as put the last of the taco in his mouth, oblivious to the eyes peering at him suspiciously over the top of a magazine page.
“With the way you were eating that taco I am starting to think that you should be Holly Goodhead and I should be James Bond,” Ginny mocked causing Draco to choke on the last of his taco as he spun around to glare at her.
The laughter that started to bubble out of her throat ceased immediately at the narrowing of Draco’s eyes as he leaned in, sticking two fingers with traces of salsa on them into his mouth. His eyes were glinting with humor as he pulled his fingers out with a pop. “Not a chance, Maud, not a chance.”
~***~
Draco’s annoyance was obvious as he paced back and forth in the room, pausing briefly to silence the notification from his phone. Ginny sat on the couch, flipping through her fifth magazine. “We could go see a movie, maybe a James Bond movie is playing in town?” she offered, attempting to calm him down.
“Too easy,” he replied, continuing to wear a hole in the carpet. Another ding from his phone made him exhale in frustration, his fingers mindlessly silencing it without a second glance.
Ginny rolled her eyes and flipped another page, “Alright. The stars on the walk of fame?”
“Too obvious.”
Ding.
“Stupid thing is a damn menace,” he muttered, pulling his phone from his pocket to finally check the notification. His feet stopped moving. Draco’s eyes widened as he read and reread it.
“Malfoy?”
“No. Fucking. Way,” he whispered.
Ginny threw her magazine onto the couch and stood, making her way over to him. She waved her hand in front of his face, still gaping at his phone screen. When he still did nothing, she snatched the phone from his hands and started to read.
“Is this tonight?” she asked.
Draco, still dazed, gave a small nod.
“And you think-“
“It must be one of the clues. He’s her absolute favorite. There is no possible way that this is a coincidence,” he rambled.
A devilish grin stretched across her face as she shoved his phone into his hands. “Go put on your suit, Mr. Bond. We are going out.”
~***~
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Draco grumbled, straightening his tie as he got out of the taxi. The black three-piece suit Granger had given him was tailored to perfection.
“Me? You’re the one with an email subscription to his daily activities,” Ginny shot back, stepping carefully out of the car to stand next to him.
Draco tried to glare back, but she wasn’t wrong. And that email notification brought them here. One step closer to finding her. He held out his arm for her to take. “You clean up fairly well, Helga,” he grinned, knowing full well he was pushing his luck.
Ginny wrapped her arm around his and smoothed out her gold dress, fitting considering what they were about to do. “You’re lucky you look like a gentleman right now, Mr. Bond, or I would smack you for calling me the wrong name, again,” she whispered, starting to walk.
“So,” Draco began quietly, “You said you had a plan?” He slowed to a stop and took in the scene. Cameras flashed constantly as they followed the steady stream of actors and actresses making their way down the carpet, pausing in front of a black backdrop. This was a terrible idea.
The things I do for you, Granger.
He felt the abrupt absence of an arm that had been wrapped around his and shifted his eyes to follow her. She was walking straight for the red carpet.
Fuck.
Draco moved swiftly, careful not to attract attention and caught her by the arm before she could go too far. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed in her ear.
Ginny smirked, “Getting you in, idiot.” Her eyes scanned the area quickly before stopping on what she wanted. Ginny flashed him a smile and tugged her arm free.
Draco watched, gob smacked, as Ginny sauntered up to a man next to a camera and began to run her fingers up and down his arm, and then delicately up to his shoulders and across his back. She was flirting. His eyes widened slightly when he caught on to the game she was playing.
Her other hand reached silently for the microphone the man was holding. The microphone that he let go of immediately due to some, no doubt inappropriate whispers in his ear. Ginny gave him a soft peck on the cheek and strolled back slowly, dropping the microphone into Draco’s hands. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she murmured suggestively, followed immediately by her eyes growing bright and her mouth falling open.
“What’s-“
“That’s Tony Curran!” she shrieked, “Good luck, Malfoy,” she spoke quickly and then she was gone. Halfway to the man on the red carpet before Draco could blink.
He let out an exasperated sigh and a small chuckle. “Right,” he said to himself, “Time to get a clue,” and his eyes roved over the many faces walking the carpet before he finally settled on the one person, he knew would give him what he needed.
~***~
“Who are you wearing tonight?” he asked eagerly, approaching the man just as he’d finished getting his pictures taken.
The man said nothing; merely raising a brow, his eyes scanning Draco from head to toe. Draco swore he heard him make a small approving noise, and vaguely registered why Granger liked him so much.
“I’m wearing Dulce & Gabbana,” Draco sputtered out anxiously. “What um, what brings you here tonight?” he tried.
Again, the man said nothing. Letting his eyes flicker to the movie poster for The League of Extraordinary Gentleman immediately to his left. Draco stifled a groan.
Idiot. You’re an absolute idiot.
Draco laughed nervously. “Sorry, right. Of course, the movie premiere,” he raked a hand through his hair, “It’s my first interview and I’m a huge fan.”
The man’s brow lowered slightly, his head tilting somewhat to observe Draco.
Pull it together, you absolute moron.
Draco cleared his throat, “Did you enjoy the filming for this movie, Mr. Connery?”
He nodded once, almost passively.
Draco shifted uncomfortably and let his eyes dart to find the red head that was supposed to be helping him. And he found her. Laughing without a care in the world on the arm of Tony Curran. He scowled and made a mental note to yell at her for her lack of decorum later. He heard a throat clear, and abruptly remembered that he was speaking to someone.
Draco shook the scowl from his face and mustered as much determination as he could. He needed the clue. “Sean, can I call you Sean?”
Draco was met with a scowl and winced.
Nope. Guess not.
“Uh, sorry. Nerves,” he croaked out, “Do you have a new James Bond movie in the works?”
A hint of amusement flickered over Sean Connery’s face as he considered Draco’s question before giving a subtle nod.
Draco felt giddy. “I’m sure there are many people who are going to be very excited about that,” he felt close to a clue, “Say, in your excitement, do you ever take any mementos from the sets?” he pried.
Connery’s lips were pursed, his amusement gone.
Christ, that’s terrifying. A different direction then.
“What qualities would you say you have in common with James Bond?” Draco asked curiously.
Silence.
“Brooding, strong silent type then. Got it,” Draco answered for him and tried again. “Do you feel that you exhibit behavior of espionage in your everyday life, Mr. Connery?”
The scowl was back, in addition to a man with an earpiece moving closer to them.
“What about partnerships? Do you believe in spying alone or having someone else help to uncover international secrets?” he pressed on.
The man with the earpiece stepped closer as Connery took a small, calculated step back.
Draco ignored them both, desperate for an answer. “If the person you were working closely with went into hiding, what would you bring them when you found them to convince them it was really you, and not someone there to cause them harm?”
“Who did you say you worked for?” the man with an earpiece asked forcefully, stepping within arm’s length of Draco.
“I didn’t,” he replied curtly, missing the shift in the air. “Mr. Connery, the love of your life is in hiding. What do you bring her when you find her?”
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Simultaneously, several things happened.
Sean Connery’s scowl had turned murderous.
Multiple security guards started to move towards Draco’s location.
Ginny appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Draco’s arm tugging him towards Sean Connery. She yanked him close and held up her phone, “Smile for the camera,” she chimed.
Draco swore Sean Connery grumbled.
Click.
She gripped Draco’s arm intensely and pulled, “Time to go, Mr. Bond,” she urged, rushing as quickly as possible away from the swarm of security descending upon them and shoving Draco into a cab.
She giggled wildly as the car drove off. “You idiot. You practically confessed to a kidnapping that you didn’t commit.”
Draco frowned as he replayed the conversation in his head. He hadn’t gotten a single clue from him. Ginny squealed next to him causing him to turn his head in her direction. She handed her phone over, the picture she had taken on the screen.
“Smile for the camera” she’d said.
An entire security team was in the background, moving towards them.
Sean Connery’s face was full of quiet rage.
Draco was frowning.
But Ginny, Ginny was beaming.