Character: Mary Formal Source: Torchwood - "Greeks Bearing Gifts" Character that I have adopted for RPs, and Necroscope fanfic. Species: Arcateenian shapeshifter This is a second entry into the OC' Summer challenge, which is to have your OC (original character) walk a mile - I dunno if the distance is important - in someone else's shoes. Entry One, is my Everquest character, Debgate, walking in Lara Croft's shoes in the first Tomb Raider game. Entry Two, this one, is Mary taking the role of the Russian cipher clerk in From Russia With Love. The blonde-haired street woman had not eaten that month, and could feel every ethereal whap of the frigid Istanbul wind bite deep into her wraps. The wet, still beating heart that she had bitten down on, would warm her right up when she had finished it. "Comrade Tatiana?" Mary snapped round at the voice and Russian accent, sighting the Mackintosh Brigade - three serious-looking men at the mouth of the dark alley. "Rherro?" She mumbled around the organ, looking cautiously at the men over the life-giving morsel. She did not notice that they had used a different woman's name. "You will come with us." Said one. There was no mention of being arrested, and the swarthy men showed no reaction to what she was eating, or the disembowelled person at her feet. * * * * The men let Mary out of the black car, at a grey-fronted two-storey with stone steps hugging the building. As directed, the woman goes up the steps, enters through the heavy wooden door, and finds a barely decorated office with paved stone floor, a large desk at the far wall before a large window through which most of the light comes in. Two leather armchairs on her side of the desk are clearly for visitors, as the diminutive silhouette at the desk bids her sit in one. Mary wipes a sleeve across her chin, in case it betrays her meal; and goes to sit, her closer position allowing her to see that the office incumbent is a short, severe-faced woman with shoulder-length orange hair, in a tan military-style blouse with green epaulettes. "Do you know who I am?" The woman asks, putting down her fountain pen. "Not a clue." Formal answers, truthfully. "I am Colonel Rosa Klebb. Head of Operations, SMERSH." "Smoosh, eh?" Mary looked at the woman, non-plussed. "Smersh," Klebb corrects, elaborating, "Means, 'Death to Spies'." Mary breathed out, and relaxed. Being pulled in for anything other than for killing humans for their hearts, was fine by her. The Klebb woman slid a black-and-white photograph out of a thin manila file, and slid it towards her. It showed a profile shot of a handsome human male with dark hair. "This is James Bond. British Secret Service." Klebb rose from behind her desk, and came round to Mary's side, revealing that the blouse was paired with an olive-green pencil skirt, opaque tan granny stockings, and severe black shoes. Rosa proceeded to Mary's side, sliding a thin-fingered hand up over the coarse sleeve of her coat, and across her shoulders. "I am seconding you to assist us in an operation against the British." Mary did not flinch from the touching, and looked bashfully up at the woman. "Reading between the lines, I am beginning to suspect that we have a case of mistaken identity here. I am not who you think I am." She jumped as Klebb slapped the desk hard with a stick that she had not seen in the woman's hand. "If you do not cooperate, you will be shot!" Klebb shrieked! "What with?" The query burst from Mary's lips before she could stop them, and she had to fumble fast to recover the initiative. "And if I do cooperate?" Rosa Klebb's voice became instant honey. "You will be a Hero of the Soviet Union!" "Say that bit first!" Mary shot back. After all, who didn't want to be a hero? "I'm in." END, otherwise I'd have to work out how to get her a job in the Russian Embassy Ah-ha, worked out how to do it; keep reading! Please.