Chapter Text
“MI6 Quartermaster, huh?”
“Hard to believe, I know.”
James kept his usual calm and disinterested expression when Q turned away from the laptop long enough to make an unintelligible hiss before going back to his work with Simonova. Bond coughed as though to smother a laugh, but grimaced when 009 ‘accidentally’ tugged too hard on the bandage she was wrapping around his shoulder. The five of them were in the nearest hotel, with Bond and Simonova preparing to fly out to Cuba and James, 009 and Q preparing to head home to their London. James glanced at Bond and said, “Be glad it was Q and not my Moneypenny who shot you though, you’d have a scar to go along with that.”
“I’ve faced worst. I’m glad though he didn’t do much damage beyond a graze, given his injured elbow,” Bond said, nodding to the blue sling that left Q’s arm immobilized.
James nodded, still grateful that Q had emerged relatively unscathed from the fight with Janus at the airfield; the gunshot, while grazing Bond’s shoulder, had been effective in convincing Janus that Q was not worth the effort of capture. James still remembered the jolt of sheer horror when he realized that Janus had figured out Q’s identity and James had known that no matter what promises Janus had offered Q, the Russian had no intention on following through with them now. Stopping him had become the ultimate priority, and the Russian disappeared in the chaos that followed the arrival of his reinforcements. Although if Bond were to be believed, Janus knew a lost battle when he saw one, and would regroup in order to win the war.
James knew of someone else back home with a similar mentality.
And he’d be damned if he let that person slip away from the way Janus did to Bond.
“All right, and then that should be it,” Q said, leaning back on his heels as he handed over the memory stick to Simonova, who tucked it away in a pocket. “The kill switch is the same as the activation code except for the last digit, which is a one instead of a zero. It only works once, so once you reactivate the device, then you should think about running,” he said, turning around to glance at Bond. “And don’t let him near it, especially if he’s considering on bringing the satellite out of the bloody sky.”
“I’m offended, it’s as though you don’t trust me,” Bond said, feigning hurt.
“I’m sorry, but what does your track record with Q-Branch equipment look like?” Q asked, scowling as he twisted to look over his shoulder.
“Nonexistent. I think my Q is more concerned with me field-testing the equipment inside the branch than me actually bringing it back,” Bond said, raising an eyebrow at Q’s panicked expression at the thought. He glanced at James and asked, “How is your track record?”
“Abysmal. We’ve gotten to the point where I just don’t check in my equipment anymore, since there’s nothing left,” James replied, smirking at Q’s deepening scowl. He waited until Q had turned back to help Simonova pack up the computer before he glanced to Bond and said, “Since then, I’ve been keeping a few of his nicer gadgets. Contrary to what he thinks, I don’t destroy everything.”
“James, remind me to be out of the office when he finds out,” 009 grumbled quietly as she tied off the bandages. “You have no idea how much ranting he does when you’re not around.”
“I can only imagine.” James stood up at the same time Bond did, signaling for Q to join him. “M is going to kill both me and double-oh nine for your injury,” he said as Q drifted close enough for James to reach out and pull him closer. Mindful of present company, he refrained from actually doing anything that could be interpreted as more than friendly, but his hand still twitched.
“Mm, I’ll tell him what happened. It’s his problem if he doesn’t believe me,” Q said, brushing himself off. He offered his good hand to Bond and said, “It was a pleasure to work with you. Only because you didn’t kill me right away.”
Bond laughed as he shook Q’s hand. “I don’t know, I might keep you a little longer given what you did to Janus, locking him out of the system like that.” Looking at James, he grinned before he said, “Mind if I borrow him?”
“Yes.” The reply came out faster than he’d intended and Bond raised an eyebrow before looking at Q thoughtfully, and then back at James. “His branch needs him,” James said after a moment, attempting to reclaim a few bits of his dignity even as Q coughed, at loss for words for once.
“I suspect they’re not the only ones,” he said, winking knowingly before turning to Simonova, wrapping a hand around her waist. “We should go soon, pack what we have. Jack will meet us in Cuba.” He let her go, turning around for something. “First though, I need-”
“Wait!”
Both agents froze, and Simonova took a step back as 009 reached for her gun. Q approached James, who narrowed his eyes as Q pulled back his suit jacket back and began searching around for one of the interior pockets. It took James a second to realize what he was doing. “Wait, Q, don’t-”
His protest died when Q pulled out the exploding pen that Bond had mentioned while the four of them had been traveling to the airfield to rescue Q, and James had stolen less than thirty minutes later. “I don’t think this is yours,” he said, dangling the pen in front of James before passing it back to Bond, who looked impressed. “I’ll talk to him once we get back,” he said before allowing 009 to usher him to the door and out into the hall.
James turned to leave as well, but Bond caught his attention with a slight tilt of the head, knowing better than to catch James’s shoulder. “One more thing.”
James paused in the doorway. “And that would be?”
“Your quartermaster needs a little work in lying. He did well at first, but at the same time, he was in a situation that prompted a rapid heartbeat and sweating, signs of lying that could be excused for terror. The lies started showing, however, once he’d calmed down from panicking about me putting a gun to his head,” Bond said, James barely catching himself reaching for his gun. “He’ll need to work on that, in case of a real situation in which the attacker is not interested in keeping him alive.”
“Duly noted.” He nodded once to Bond before he said, “Good luck in Cuba.”
“Good luck with yours.”
James felt his jaw twitch ever so slightly, but left the room before he could pursue the topic further. He caught Q’s collar—Q had been hovering right outside the door with an unrepentant 009—and ushered him down the hall, 009 close behind. “What’s this about lying and it showing once you calmed down?” he asked conversationally as he pressed the button for the lift.
Q scowled. “I said that I worked for Janus and left because too many people were killed. Bond could have bloody well said something sooner,” he muttered sulkily as the doors opened and they walked in, James pressing the button for the lobby. James resisted the urge to smile or better yet, kiss the pout off the younger man’s face. But they weren’t safe yet, they were still in the field, and James couldn’t risk his chances of remaining free yet. Shaking his head, Q said, “It was fucking terrifying.” He glanced suspiciously at James. “What the fuck happened after you two fell off the rooftop?”
“We swung into a hotel room, startled the occupants and left a broken window or two. We got out before the husband could reach for his shotgun,” James said, ushering Q out of the lift when the doors opened.
“How did you decide not to kill each other?”
James glanced down at him, blue meeting hazel. “You and Simonova were in danger. Getting you both to safety became our priority,” he said simply before placing a hand on Q’s good shoulder and nudging him along. “No more talking until we get back to our headquarters.”
Q stiffened underneath James’s palm, but otherwise obeyed.
James let 009 take the lead, her quiet, unassuming presence deflecting attention from the three of them. Q let his hand slide down, but moved closer anyway, discreetly reaching around to place James’s hand around his waist. It felt right and reassuring to have Q back, and not just because he was the Quartermaster whose disappearance had caused a building-wide crisis; no one could quite figure out how Q could disappear so quickly even when under observation. R had discovered the portal quite by accident by stumbling into it himself when both James and his longtime friend and brother, Alec Trevelyan, happened to coincidentally look up at that exact moment and see R disappear from sight.
He glanced down at Q for a moment, a thought occurring to him. No, he couldn’t talk about that yet, not with 009 within earshot.
The entrance to the tunnels was just where they’d left it, but James was more concerned with getting back across the dimension. If that sort of thing existed. Which, if this little trip was anything to go by, it did, but James knew he’d be doing a lot of blotting out in his mind to pretend this never happened, for the sake of his own sanity if anything. He’d have to handle damage control as soon as possible after they returned to their London, but he prayed that Q had enough sense to keep his mouth shut about the whole episode until they’d both had a chance to get their stories straight.
As much as he hated keeping secrets from Alec, James suspected he’d go to the grave with this one, at the very least to prevent a potential repeat in his universe.
The rope ladder was still in place, but James knew from the briefing prior to his departure that there were at least four agents standing guard to prevent any threats from entering the MI6 archives. “I’ll go first,” 009 said, pulling out the small rubber ball that R had given her to use as a signal. She glanced past James and said, “We weren’t followed, were we?”
“No, I checked. Frequently, since someone wasn’t paying attention,” Q said, nudging James in the ribs pointedly before wincing; he’d used his bad elbow. “This sling is going to take some getting used to…”
“O’Reilly will be able to give you a real cast once we get back,” James said, rubbing Q’s back as they watched 009 toss the ball up. “Tess, you’ll have to tell them that Q needs-” he abruptly stopped speaking and pulled Q back as someone above whipped the ball back, bouncing off 009’s head and rolling off into the darkness.
“All right, which one of you threw that?” 009 shouted, grabbing the ladder before James could step forward and hold the rope ladder still. She scrambled up the ladder, pausing as though to swipe at someone before clambering out of sight, leaving the two men below.
James nearly palmed his forehead when he realized that Q couldn’t exactly climb up the ladder. “If you wrap your arms around my chest or neck, I bet I could carry you up,” he said, turning to Q, who paled at the thought. “You’re not that heavy to begin with, and hopefully she’ll take the time to mention that you’re injured and will need medical assistance.”
“James… what are we going to do about… you know,” Q said, hesitating on the name. “I mean, double-oh nine suspects something, she’ll be asking about it later.”
“Deny knowing anything and threaten punishment if she brings it up. Blame me if that makes you feel better,” he said, kneeling slightly so that Q could reach around his neck. “Now hold tight, and wrap your legs around my waist.”
“Are you su-”
“Q.”
“Sorry.”
James gritted his teeth as he felt Q wrap himself around his body, and then hoisted the two of them up. It was worrying, to be honest, at how light Q felt on his back. O’Reilly would no doubt draw up a new meal plan for him, especially when taking into account that Q had been trussed up, injured, and overall treated badly in the last couple days. James had already established before the mission that time moved at the same rate in both dimensions, but the dates were off-kilter. He remained hyperaware of Q clinging to his back like a koala even when his vision returned and he found himself staring at several pairs of familiar boots.
“There now, easy does it,” Alec said, kneeling down and helping James up the rest of the way, blond hair flopping in his eyes as it usually did when it got too long. Q protested slightly when several hands came to assist; R along with Ellen Wilbur, one of the Medical administrators, tried to pry him off James. Q was having none of it; James could feel that Q had his face buried in James’s shoulders.
“Take Q, he needs to go to Medical for malnutrition and an elbow injury. Check him over for bruises, he’s been held at gunpoint at least once,” James instructed, holding steady as both Alec and Ellen pried Q off. “Q, go, I’ll join you anyway in a few minutes.”
He twisted slightly in time to watch Alec successfully pick Q up and try to stabilize him on the ground, catching him when Q nearly stumbled. Q held Alec’s wrist a second longer than usual, making eye contact as he said, “Thank you,” and then squeezing it lightly before allowing Alec to support him when he stumbled yet again.
Alec glanced back at James with a frown, mouthing, ‘Is he all right?’, to which James nodded, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Q would be all right, whatever experience he’d had with Janus hadn’t permanently scarred the younger man. Hoisting himself out the rest of the way, James glanced at R, who looked extremely anxious.
“Have a detail on it twenty-four seven. Have you figured out a way to seal it yet?” he asked, leaning back to catch his breath.
“We’re working on it, trust me on that. In the meantime, we’re also clearing out this room, M doesn’t want all that sensitive information at risk,” R said, wringing his hands nervously. “In the meantime, we usually have one double-oh and three or four field agents standing guard in six hour shifts.”
James nodded, hoping that Bond would succeed and eliminate Janus, erasing the risk of Janus discovering the way through. Gesturing to the spot—an innocent black circle in the concrete floor—he said, “I’d suggest either adding another double-oh or two more field agents, it might come in handy.”
With that, he hoisted himself up, rolling his neck and slowly relaxing as he walked away and ignored R’s look of utter horror at the suggestion.
Hopefully, that trip would never happen again.