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WHO: Claude Rains and Sean Connery-Bond
WHERE: Some random apartment where Bond is.
WHEN: During the time-swap
WARNINGS: None.
SUMMARY: HOBO BATTLE PART TWO. Aka Claude needs to grow common sense.
FORMAT: Paragraph.

Claude was starting to hate it here. Everybody had damn superpowers! He couldn't go two steps without having that feeling that someone was looking at him. And the awful thing was, they probably were. That blond kid who he stole food from obviously knew he was there, as did the blond girl who's wallet he stole. And Bond...he had no idea how James fucking Bond could see him or why James fucking Bond was there in the first place.

You'd think that all of this would get Claude to change his habits. Pity that he was a creature of habit.

He was sitting on the counter of an apartment that he broke into, eating a bag of Baked Lays and enjoying them as much as someone could enjoy Baked Lays (not that much). After spotting something else, he let the bag fall to the floor and made a beeline for the pretzels.

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James is just starting to get to know the city a little better. He's been around a fair few days now and it's enough for a spy like him to get his bearings, explore the area, and really start to get comfortable in his settings once more. Even with all this crazy addition of technology and fast cars and whatever else the new millenia has since brought about. It's certainly different from the 60s.

So he's been out and about for the day, finally returning to his apartment- careful as always thanks to soy paranoia- only to find stuff has been touched. Bond knows someone has been in before he's barely even entered, and his hand is moving to rest at the holster for his gun as he steps into the apartment, lingering at the front door as he gets his bearings.

As soon as he heard the door open, Claude froze. Great. He sure knew how to pick them, didn't he. He slowly walked out of the kitchen, looking at the door.

Sean Connery? Why the hell was Sean Connery here? He stood still for a moment, a little shell-shocked. Sean Connery. This was unbelievable. Slightly weird, but completely unbelievable.

Ever so quietly, Bond's shutting the door behind him, withdrawing his gun as he keeps a keen ear out, still lingering by the doorway while he assesses the area and considers a plan of action.

He hears footsteps, barely, but they're enough to have him looking in Claude's general direction and speaking in that ridiculous accent of his, "You better show yourself. I'm in no mood to be sneaking around after you."

Oh good God, he's got the accent. He's got the ridiculous accent. Smile still on his face, Claude walks further into the living room, trying to spot an opportunity to go for the door.

Sure, it was nice that Sean Connery was here, but Claude wanted to get out. The last time he had been caught sneaking around, James Bond was the one who beat him up. Then suddenly, it all clicked together in Claude's mind. Sean Connery. James Bond.

Goddammit.

Okay, no James is just pretty sure he's hearing things. He's still detecting the sound of footsteps walking in the same room he's in, but can't for the life of him see anyone. But now he's unwilling to move because if there is someone in this room, they might just be waiting to trap him.

"I'm quite aware of the powers possessed in a city like this. You can't trick me." Except if there's no one here, they pretty much have tricked him. He's bluffing, okay? It's what all card players do.

As James started talking, Claude rolled his eyes. Of course he knew about the powers. Everyone did. And still, even if James knew about what he could do, he definitely couldn't see him.

Claude took a few steps closer to the door, frown on his face.

No answer. More footsteps. This is weird.

Still, James does what he knows best, and that's destroying things, so he grabs a lamp off a nearby table and throws it straight towards the footsteps, and straight towards Claude. He's no idea if that'll help any, but it makes him feel mildly better.

Claude spots the lamp, just as it hurls towards him. He tries to leap out of the way, but to no avail. The lamp hits him straight on his stomach, knocking him down. "Goddammit," he muttered, staggering up.

Not wanting to listen to logic at the moment, Claude walks towards the man and throws a punch towards Bond's face.

Bond can obviously tell he's hit someone with that throw, but it's not until he hears the sudden quick approach of footsteps and receives a blow to the face that he even realises that there must be some invisibility going on here.

He staggers just briefly before reacting by swinging the butt of his gun at Claude's head. "Show yourself and make this a fair fight."

The gun connects. Wincing, Claude turns visible as he puts his hand to his head. "Jesus Christ, Bond. You didn't have to throw the damn lamp at me." Right, so it wasn't the James Bond who he had talked to before. Still, it was a James Bond. Hopefully he would remember him.

"I'm surprised that you didn't just call me out then and there. Who else would be sneaking around apartments invisible?"

He's just readying to strike again when Claude appears, saying his name almost immediately. James is almost getting used to everyone apparently knowing who he is. It's a pain in the ass, but it happens a lot.

"I wouldn't know, I don't have many invisible men sneaking around in my abode." Because that stuff doesn't exist where he comes from. Invisible cars do though!

"We've been through this already," Claude said, frowning. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Bond. "You beat me up, we ended up watching rugby, then Warren came in and yelled at both of us."

Claude shrugged. He started to walk back to the kitchen, intent on ransacking it for some more food.

"Get back here before I shoot a hole through your head," he snaps as Claude moves away, raising his gun and pointing it straight towards the other. "Whoever you knew before, isn't me. You've got the wrong man."

Claude tensed up, putting his hands in the air. "Except it is you. You're James Bond." This was slowly turning out worse and worse for him.

"That much can be established, yes. And you are?" At least the gun is being lowered again. James wouldn't actually shoot anyway, he's already realised Claude is very little threat.

"Claude Rains," he simply stated. "And if you'll excuse me, I need food." This was strange. This had to be a completely different James Bond than the one he encountered. He was slightly curious about all this. Entering the kitchen, Claude grabbed a nearby apple. He bit into it then went back to the main area to talk to Bond.

Bond just watches Claude wander off, looking highly unimpressed by it all. "That's my food you're eating. I don't know what kind of arrangement you had with my other self, but that doesn't stand with me. Under no circumstances do I agree to you breaking into my apartment and eating my food."

"You're nothing special," Claude said, biting into his apple. "I break into everyone's apartment and eat everyone's food." He shrugged, looking at Bond.

"Not mine, you don't. You're bloody lucky I didn't wire this place." Because sometimes Bond likes to set traps to fuck with people. It's entertaining. Now he kind of wishes he had done that, actually...

Claude shrugged, looking at Bond. "That still doesn't change the fact that you didn't wire it." He took a bite of the apple. "Want a drink?"

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