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Chapter Text

It was a normal day for Sherlock, solving the crimes that Lestrade and his inept associates could not. The flavor of the day was a triple homicide (well, triple if one included the family cat, which was dead on the mantle).

“Really Lestrade, I’ve told you to keep Anderson from contaminating the crime scenes with his idiocy, why do you insist on—”

Sherlock stopped as his phone chimed. Every one of his contacts had a similar, but distinct note, so he could know immediately who was contacting him. Usually, it was John’s E flat that sounded from his phone, but now an F sharp sounded.

F sharp meant Mycroft. Why was Mycroft texting him? He hadn’t even broken in to any of his brother’s facilities as of late. Curiosity got the better of him, so he opened his brother’s text.

I found him. –MH

The consulting detective stared at the screen. He could read the words, he understood them, he understood their meaning, but he still had a hard time believing what he was reading.

“…Sherlock?” John asked, touching Sherlock’s shoulder, “Is everything alright?”

Sherlock didn’t answer. Instead, he typed away at his phone as he walked out of the room.

Where are you?  I’m coming to meet you. –SH

A chime answered him not 15 seconds later.

I’m waiting for you outside. –MH

Sure enough, the moment Sherlock stepped out onto the street, he saw the black car waiting for him. He smirked, not waiting for the driver to open the door before climbing into the backseat, “Where is he?”

Mycroft barely looked up from the file in his hand, “There’s still no record of Sherrinford anywhere.” He paused, “It was quite coincidental that my men managed to get this picture.”

Sherlock looked at the picture, the first picture of his baby brother since he had left home at seventeen. Sherrinford had taken after him in appearance, with a wild mane of dark curls and a long slender build. In this picture, he had glasses and was sitting at a café with blonde man, sharing a pastry and chatting over the newspaper.

“How did they stumble upon him?” He asked, looking at his brother beside him.

“They actually thought it was you and Doctor Watson in disguise at first glance. It was only after they took the picture that they realized their mistake. The best mistake they ever made.” Mycroft nodded.

Sherlock chuckled, “How far away were they? This man is far too tall to be confused for John.”

“On a roof four blocks away, but that’s not the point.” The elder Holmes rolled his eyes, “I did a bit of digging—”

“Did you really? And here I thought you were above legwork.”

“—and I learned the other man’s name.” A file was placed in Sherlock’s lap, “The only reason you’re seeing this now is because it concerns our brother.”

Curious, Sherlock opened the file. Well, file was a bit of a misnomer, it was more of a book, “I take if you managed to get his entire family history back to the Normand Invasion then?”

“No, this is just his history with MI6.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, “So he’s one of yours. How delightful.”

“Not just any of “mine.” His name is James Bond and he’s part of MI6’s collection of highly trained operatives,” Mycroft scoffed, “He has a license to kill, and he’s used it. Repeatedly.”

This caused Sherlock to frown, “Why is Sherrinford with this man?”

Mycroft gave him a look, passing over more photos, “A team tailed this man. Sherrinford sometimes stays at Bond’s flat.”

No further explanation was needed. The pictures did enough telling (and he quite honestly did not want to see his baby brother like that ever again). “It gets worse, doesn’t it?”

Another bundle of photos was handed to him. These featured Sherrinford with a different blonde, but with the same level of familiarity and intimacy.

“I would have thought Sherrinford would have had better sense than to be adulterous.” Sherlock shook his head, “And being unfaithful to a trained killer…”

“With another trained killer.” Mycroft shook his head, “This is number 6,” He tapped the image of the man, “And this is 7.” He tapped the first man. “He has your sense of getting himself into outrageous situations. But he’s in a devil’s love triangle, he will get himself killed if either of them finds out.”

“Agreed.” Sherlock nodded, “I suppose we’ll just have to find our brother all the sooner, won’t we?”

***

Sherrinford Holmes groaned as sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, “It’s too early…” He grumbled.

A soft kiss pressed against his head, “That’s just because you’ve been up for two days straight.” James said softly, “The rest of us are on a normal sleeping schedule.” He chuckled, getting up.

“Speak for yourself, James.” Alec muttered, wrapping his arms around Sherrinford’s waist, “I’m with Q on this one.”

“Of course you are,” James smiled, “Well I’m making breakfast.”

“Bring back some tea…” Q whined, burrowing into Alec’s arms.

“And bacon…” Alec added, kissing Q’s shoulder blade, “Lots of bacon…”

James rolled his eyes, walking to the kitchen, “If you want breakfast, you’ll have to get up and come get it.”

“You monster!” Alec pouted, “Come back to bed, love.”

“Come down to breakfast, darling.” Came the teasing reply from the kitchen.

Q smiled softly, listening to his lovers bicker the way they often did in the morning. It was a peaceful release for the two trained killers: being allowed to unwind and relax in their flat (after a few rounds of fantastic sex, if Q did say so himself).  He allowed a moment to think back to his life before MI6, back when he had another name (and not one of his MI6 aliases).

He shuddered at the thought. It had been his one request to M when she recruited him, that she keep his identity and his past a secret. The matron of MI6 had been all too willing to keep her Quartermaster from his dark (as he described it) past.

“Q, babe, you cold?” Alec asked, feeling the shudder in Q’s shoulders.

The Quartermaster smiled softly, “Sorry, I guess I got a bit of a chill.”

Alec nodded, “James, Q is getting a chill! You should bring him breakfast in bed!”

This caused a laugh to come from both Q and James. When Q thought about it, their relationship was an odd little triangle, but it was one they wouldn’t trade for the world.

Chapter Text

Deep down, Q knew he wouldn’t be able to hide from his past forever. His brothers were just as stubborn as he was, they weren’t about to just give up on finding him. He knew Sherlock and Mycroft better than that. And even M could only hide him for so long.

So when he saw the black car, complete with tinted windows, situated outside the flat he shared with James and Alec, he knew he’d been found.

He had just come back from getting some much needed groceries and had just rounded the block when he spotted it. Hopefully, he had ducked into an alley before anyone had spotted him.

This was bad, very bad. Q didn’t want to think what would happen if his brothers got a hold of him, all he knew was that the flat was no longer safe.

But luckily for him, he had two 00 agents on speed dial.

He decided to call James first. Knowing Alec, he’d probably shoot first and ask questions never, and while he certainly didn’t want to meet his brothers again, he didn’t want them dead.

“Hey Q, what’s up?” Even in the middle of all the turmoil, James still managed to calm him down.

“James…James, someone is outside the flat. There’s a car with tinted windows parked outside…” When he put it like that, it just sounded like Q was paranoid. It’s not like James knew his brother, he didn’t know Mycroft. “The driver is just waiting by the door…he’s looking at a picture…I don’t know what to do James.”

So the last bit was a lie, but Q knew that no doubt Mycroft had given the driver his picture (however he managed to get a hold of it).

“Alright Q, just calm down.” James’s voice was as emotionless as when he was on assignment, “It’s probably nothing, but better safe than sorry. Are you in the flat?”

“No, I’m in an alley about a block away. I spotted the car and thought something was off.”

“Good. Q, I need you to just walk in the other direction like nothing is wrong. Do not look over your shoulder; don’t look back for any reason. I am going to contact Alec. I will call again in 60-90 seconds. It’s going to be okay, Q.” James had hung up without saying goodbye, but then again, Q had triggered his 00 agent mode, he wasn’t expecting congeniality.

Q took a deep breath, stepping out of the alley and walking back the way he came. He wasn’t an agent, we wasn’t supposed to be able to think in high stress situations (at least not ones that didn’t involve computers). But Q took some peace in the fact that James’s instructions would probably keep him out of harm’s (read: his brothers) grasp.

Then, as Q walked passed a call box, the phone rang. He wasn’t stupid enough to answer the phone; instead, he walked faster down the sidewalk. If he could just hang on long enough to James and Alec to form a plan, he’d be safe.

But the phone calls weren’t stopping. Every time Q walked past a call box or a shop with a telephone in it, the phone would ring. The sound was beginning to fray Q’s nerves. So much so that he nearly dropped his phone when it began to ring.

“H-hello?”

“Q? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

It was just James. Q let out a shaky breath, “James, I think I’m being followed.”

“Alec and I are on our way. Can you make it to the end of Baker Street?”

Q stared at the street corner in front of him, “Yeah…I think so…how long until one of you gets here?”

“A minute tops, Q. Just hang on.”

He was so overwhelmed by the situation, Q nearly ran over a man coming out of one of the stores.

“Oh, pardon me.” The man gave a small smile, a jug of milk in his hand.

Q shook his head, “No, it was my fault. Excuse me.”

“Don’t talk to anyone, Q!” James’s voice barked at him. Q nearly jumped, turning back to the street corner.

“I’m at the corner, James.”

A hand fell on his shoulder. A hand that was not James or Alec’s (Q was familiar enough with those hands to feel the difference). His blood ran cold as an unfamiliar voice addressed him “Mr. Holmes.”

It took everything to not flinch away or run, Q looked over at the stranger, “I’m sorry, you must have me confused with someone else.”

The man shook his head, no expression on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Q could see a black car pulling up alongside them, “Get in the car please, Mr. Holmes.”

Q grit his teeth, “No, I don’t think I will…”

“Get in the car, Mr. Holmes.” The grip on Q’s shoulder went tighter, more insistent. Q knew the moment he got into the car, it’d all be over. He’d be Sherrinford Holmes again, and he’d be in the middle of his brothers’ insanity once again.

Then Q looked out at the street, spotting an Aston Martin, and couldn’t help but let a smile tug on his lips when he saw James behind the wheel. He had his phone to his ear still, and he gave Q a nod.

“We’ve got you, Q. When Alec gives the signal, you come to me and get in the car.”

Q gave a small nod, resisting the strange man’s grip, “Let me go, please.”

“Get in the car, Mr. Holmes.”

Then Q heard a familiar voice, “I think the man said ‘no’ already, don’t you think?”

He looked back and, sure enough, Alec was standing behind the man trying to coerce him into the car. Judging by Alec’s expression and the man’s stiff posture, there was probably a gun pressed to his attacker’s back. Alec locked eyes with Q, then jerked his head in the direction of James’s car. Q didn’t need any further invitation, taking off across the street and into the back seat of the Aston Martin.

Alec looked back at the man, pressing his gun deeper against his spine, “Is there anyone else in the car?”

After a moment, the man nodded. Alec smirked, “Get back in the car, and don’t try anything funny.” He gave the man a shove towards the driver’s side of the car before tapping on the back window with his gun, “Whoever you are, you will not approach us again.”

The window rolled down an inch, just enough for Alec to see a pair of cold, seafoam eyes.

“And just so you know,” Alec continued, “If you follow us, I will kill you and whoever else you may be with.” He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low whisper, “And no one will stop me.”

With that, Alec made his way to the Aston Martin, climbing in beside Q, “You alright, Q-babe?”

Q nodded slowly as James began driving down the street, “Just a bit shaken…”

Alec nodded, kissing Q’s temple, “We got you Q, and no one is going to get you.”

For a moment, Q allowed himself to believe Alec and James could keep him safe from his brothers. Even if it was just for a short while.

“It would seem we miscalculated Sherrinford.” Sherlock looked amused as he rolled up the window, “He seems to know exactly who he’s in bed with.”

Mycroft nodded, “And they seem to be aware of each other. Quite the ménage à trios. Mummy will certainly be proud.”

“It will be quite the conversation over dinner, don’t you think?” Sherlock smirked, “This game has gotten quite interesting.” He opened the door, stepping out into the street, “You’ll let  me know when you find out more?”

“Of course.” The eldest Holmes smirked, “Give John my best.”

“And give Lestrade mine.”

The two Holmes men shared a knowing look before Sherlock turned away, making the quick walk up to 221b.

Mycroft couldn’t help but smile softly.

It had been quite a while since they had played hide-and-seek with their little brother.

Chapter Text

James was no stranger to mysterious meets. Sometimes agents needed secure places to trade information, sometimes they just needed to meet somewhere fast.

So when a car pulled up to him as he was walking home, with the driver simply opening the door telling him “Get in the car, 007,”  James did as he was told, preparing himself to be briefed on a new mission.

So when James saw that he was being taken a remote warehouse on the edge of London, he realized that something was off.

When he saw that there was a single man waiting for him inside, he knew that he was not walking into a meet.

The man looked incredibly smug, which in James’s experience was never a good sign.

“Welcome, Mr. Bond.” The man nodded to him, long fingers tapping against the handle of an umbrella.

Alec knew those eyes. Seafoam, that’s how he described them. He remembered them from the day that Q had nearly been kidnapped.

He certainly didn’t expect them to be staring back at him when he returned to his flat.

The man was sitting in Alec’s armchair, as if he belonged there.

“Ah, so nice of you to finally come home, Mr. Trevelyan.” The man commented smoothly, “I was beginning to get bored.”

Alec knew, based on where he was standing, he was within five steps to at least four weapons that were hidden  in various places within the living room.

“I did mention I got bored, didn’t I?” The man moved the position of his legs, revealing a pile of gun parts at the foot of the armchair.

“You did.” Alec grit his teeth, “Though I don’t need a gun to carry out my previous threat.”

The man didn’t seem fazed, “Yes, I’m aware of your license to kill, 006.” He shook his head, standing, “No doubt you could kill me with your bare hands.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” James’s eyes narrowed, “You know who I am, yet I know nothing of you.”

“You should know, by now Mr. Bond, that in our world, anonymity is our greatest protection.” The man smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from his suit as he stepped toward James, “We surrender our identities, our very being, for Queen and Country.”

James frowned, “So you work with M?”

“You could say it like that.” He nodded, “But my business with you does not involve M. Rather, another mutual acquaintances of ours.” With that, the man reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a photograph.

“I’m already well aware of your relationship with this young man, not to mention a fellow agent.”  Pale lips stretched into a thin smirk, “And though this is the 21^st century and I’m sure you love each other very much, or some other sentiment, I cannot help but express concern toward his wellbeing.”

Alec grit his teeth, resisting the urge to reach out and snap the other man’s neck. “And what the hell do you want with Oliver?” Oliver Eagan was the false identity that Q most often used when he needed to go about London as a civilian.

To his annoyance, the man rolled his eyes, “You know as well as I that is not his real name. If you did really believe that you were in a relationship with one Oliver Eagan, I would have to doubt the intelligence of MI6’s best.” He shook his head, “No, while you are more or less a killing machine, you aren’t that stupid.”

“You didn’t answer me.” Alec growled, “What do you want with him?”

“I am perhaps one of the few people on the planet who have his best interest at heart.”

James didn’t say anything, simply looking at the photo of Q that the man handed him. It was a picture of the three of them together in the flat.

“I know things about him that few others will ever know.” The man continued, “And so, I find myself worried about him. Constantly.”

“And you believe his relationship with 006 and I will bring him into harm’s way?” James raised an eyebrow.

The man shook his head, “Not at all, I am sure you and 006 will protect him with your very…unique skillset.” He smirked, “No, all I ask of you, Mr. Bond…is to keep me informed on his wellbeing.”

“And why the hell should I tell you anything?” Alec snapped.

Cold, calculating eyes watched him, “Well I certainly wouldn’t want to bring M into this matter.”

“You threatening me?” The killer in Alec knew he only had to take two steps and he could reach out and break the man’s neck.

“Of course not.” The man smirked, “But if you would prefer a more…rewarding incentive, I’m more than willing to offer you a more than decent amount of money in exchange for simply…keeping me informed. I do worry about him.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” James shook his head, “I make it a habit to only hand over information I have been assigned to obtained, and only into the hands of my contacts.”

The man didn’t look the least bit surprised, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Mr. Bond? Since you last felt safe to open your heart another?”

James froze, staring at the man. The man simply gave him a knowing look, “Orphans so often make the best recruits.” He chuckled, “Thank you, Mr. Bond. The car will take you to wherever you wish to go.”

The atmosphere in 221b Baker Street was heavy with tension. Both Sherlock and Mycroft were sitting across from each other while John (bless his heart) was making tea for all of them.

“You were quite right: Mr. Trevelyan is the more volatile of the two.” Sherlock muttered, “His hands were just itching to get to my throat.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Sherlock.” Mycroft countered, “Mr. Bond was quite willing to go for the gun he had concealed in the lining of his jacket. He is merely more adept at concealing his emotions. Childhood trauma and the like.”

“Caring is not an advantage, seems to take after you.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Though it is troubling how easily the two would defect from the chain of command for Sherrinford’s sake.”

Mycroft nodded, “An agent whose loyalty is not to Queen and country, but to a single man, is deadly.” He gave Sherlock a hard look, “Having two agents with the same affliction…all Sherrinford would need to do is give the word and no doubt those two would make the world burn.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” The Holmes brothers turned to look at John, who was setting a tea tray on the coffee table, “But who exactly are we talking about? Is this for a case?”

Sherlock smirked, “Perhaps the biggest case we will ever face, John. We are searching for the most deadly man in London.” 

Chapter Text

Q knew that his relationship with James and Alec should have never worked. After all, making a relationship work with just two people was hard enough, three people should have been impossible.

It was quite fortunate that Q, James, and Alec were in the business of doing the impossible.

As Q sat at his favorite café, enjoying a cup of tea and a scone while working on his computer, he couldn’t help but think back to when their relationship began.

It had started simple enough, which meant not simply at all, considering the parties involved. Q had found that he was receiving gifts from 007 whenever the agent would return from an assignment. Then, shortly after, he was receiving more expensive gifts from 006. It went on for quite some time before Q had even realized that the two were competing for his affection. To be honest, it was rather flattering.

Though, of course Q couldn’t let himself be caught up in their little competition. And if he was honest with himself, he couldn’t choose between them even if he had a gun to his head. And so both James and Alex had received invitations to Q’s office late at night, after everyone else was gone, with promises of a more…intimate discussion. Of course, they had both assumed they were the only one to receive such invitations. So to say they were surprised to find the other standing outside the door to Q’s office with identical invitations.

And Q would like to say that he thoroughly shocked them both when he opened his office door wearing nothing but his cardigan, saying “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Needless to say, after a few rounds of awkward conversation, none of them did mind sharing. And needless to say, Q had never been so thoroughly debauched in his entire life. It had taken him a week to stop walking funny.

Q smiled into his teacup, enjoying the fond memories. It was a pleasant distraction from his current problem. It certainly was difficult to hide from one’s brothers when they were both certified masterminds.

He had all but lived in Q branch for two weeks before he felt like he could walk the London streets again without fear of either of his brothers tracking him down again. And James and Alec had found them a new flat where they could live somewhere discreet that Mycroft wasn’t aware of.

There was a part of Q that felt guilty for keeping secrets from James and Alec. Both agents had accepted that Q could not tell them of his real identity, but no doubt both of them would be better able to help Q if he just told them that the two men who were hunting him down were his brothers…

With a sigh, Q paid for his drink and stood. No doubt he should be heading back before James and Alec got worried. He slid his computer into his bag before making his way down the street.

He didn’t even make it to the end of the street before he felt the barrel of a gun pressed to the small of his back. “You have to be joking me….” He groaned. Surely Mycroft and Sherlock weren’t this desperate for his attention…

“’Fraid not, Mr. Holmes.” A gravelly voice replied, pressing the gun further into Q’s back, “Move.”

Every bit of knowledge Q had screamed at him to not move, to not leave the public eye with an armed man. Of course, knowledge and instinct have a tendency to fight each other, and so Q’s feet were moving into an alleyway before he could stop himself. Which was strange, considering the fact it wasn’t Mycroft’s style at all to meet in alleyways (Sherlock’s, maybe, but it wasn’t Sherlock’s style to hold people at gunpoint).

It was only when Q heard the gun cock that he realized he had misread the situation.

“Moriarty sends his regards, Mr. Holmes.”

Q nearly gasped as he realized he was not being abducted, he was being executed. But before he could even begin to allow the fear to creep into his mind, there was a loud clanging behind him, followed the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground. But before Q could look behind him, his hand was grabbed and he was being pulled down the alley.

“Move, you idiot!” A voice shouted at him. Q blinked, but his body caught up faster than his mind, following the man who was leading him by the hand.

Well, Q’s day certainly got odd.

It was only when they were several streets over that Q’s rescuer finally spoke again, “What the hell were you thinking, going alone with one of Moriarty’s men?” He turned to look at Q.

For a moment, Q didn’t recognize the man at all. He wasn’t MI6, Q knew all the agents by name, and there were no new agents. But then a snippet of Q’s memory managed to work. He was the man from Baker street, the only reason Q remembered it at all was because Sherlock and Mycroft had attempted to kidnap him.

There was a flash of recognition on the man’s face, before he shook his head, “Oh my god…I’m so sorry, I mistook you for someone else…” He took a moment to catch his breath, “But then again, so did Moriarty’s man.”

Moriarty. Q knew that name, crime syndicate, if he wasn’t mistaken. Though he was sure he had heard reports that the man himself was dead, “Didn’t he kill himself?” He found himself asking.

The man shook his head, “That, I’m not too sure of, what with…” He sighed, “It doesn’t matter, I don’t think your attacker was under orders from Moriarty.”

Q raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “A shooting in an alleyway is too boring for Moriarty. He likes his elaborate plans.”

“You sound like you have experience with Moriarty.” Q said, eyeing the man warily.

The man nodded, “I do. He once strapped a bomb to me.”

James and Alec would no doubt like that story. “And you’re not dead because…”

“I wish I could say it was because my partner and I outwitted him or something like that,” he sighed, “But really, he got a phone call and had to leave.” The man smiled at Q, “I’m John, by the way.”

“Oliver.” Q replied, the fake name sitting better on his tongue than his real one.

John chuckled, looking back in the direction they came, “Well Oliver, it looks like your attacker has found us. Shall we continue running from Moriarty’s rogue assassin?”

It was a rhetorical question, as Q found himself running after John a moment after the question left his mouth. As they ran though, he made sure to press a number on his mobile, hoping the speed dial would do its job.

When Q didn’t return to the flat, James had been expecting a phone call. So he wasn’t worried when his mobile rang with Q’s user ID flashing on the screen.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Q to not be speaking on the other end of the line, instead James was getting nothing but muffled static.

“Problems?” Alec asked from his chair, looking at James curiously.

James frowned, “Maybe…Q called, but either his phone is acting up, or he isn’t answering.”

Alec raised an eyebrow before moving to the computer on Q’s desk. Neither 00 agent may be technical masterminds, but they sure as hell knew how to track a mobile’s GPS.

“He’s on the move.” Alec muttered, furrowing his brow.

Then a few words cut through the static on Q’s phone.

“…attack…”

“…kill…”

“…Moriarty…”

James and Alec both froze.

“Damnit!” Alec jumped up, “I knew we shouldn’t have let him out alone.”

James didn’t say anything, though he secretly agreed, especially since they never figured out who was behind Q’s attempted kidnapping. But they could figure that out later. As he grabbed his gun, James prepared to tear down all of London to save Q.

Chapter Text

James was used to going on manhunts, even high speed ones. A few of those had even been in London. But none of them had ever involved both his lovers. It was only slightly comforting to have Alec as his copilot as they drove through the London streets, shouting directions at him as they continued their pursuit.

Chasing Q’s beacon though the city was nerve-wracking, and James heart was in his throat. Q had been in danger for weeks and he and Alec had allowed Q to be alone on the streets.

Now they only prayed to whatever deity who would listen that they wouldn’t be too late.

“Turn here.” Alec urged. “There’s a dead end, and I fear Q may be trapped at the end of it.”

Now that was a worst case scenario: Q trapped while someone was out to get him, or worse, kill him.

The alley turned out to be a service alley behind what appeared to be a small bistro. Not that it mattered to James or Alec, who were up and out of the car before the car could fully park, hands on their guns. Neither 00 agent could see where Q was, though it was probably a safe assumption that he was ducking behind the large rubbish bin in the alley. The gunman, however, was quite easy to spot, creeping closer towards Q’s hiding spot.

Alec didn’t waste any time, firing two shots into the would-be assassin and moving forward before the body had even hit the ground. James was right behind him, of course, because there was no telling if there was more than one shooter.

And Alec must have found a second attacker, judging by the way he had pulled a second man from behind the bin, sending him sprawling on the ground and his gun skittering. Q was out from behind his hiding place as Alec trained his gun on the second man, “Alec, don’t shoot!”

James rushed to Q’s side, “Are you alright? You aren’t hurt?”

“I’m fine, James.” Q shook his head, “But tell Alec not to shoot the man who’s been protecting me.”

Looking at Alec, James could see the second man was slowly sitting up and rubbing his head. Of course, now that James wasn’t in a panic and could see clearly, he could get a better look at the man in front of him.

“John?” James blinked, “John Watson, is that you?”

The smaller man looked over at James, groaning, “James Bond…fancy seeing you here.”

At Alec’s quizzical glance, James shrugged, “John was in the Army while I was in the Navy.”

“And now you’re in some sort of special forces.”

Both Alec and James stared at John, and James hoped that they wouldn’t be forced to kill an old military friend. John shook his head, “I know what a Walther PPK is supposed to look like, and I can see it’s been modified. And those types of modifications could only be afforded by the government in some form or another.”

James raised an eyebrow, “When did you get so observant?”

John snorted, “I’ve had to, in my line of work.” He smiled, “So you’re with Oliver?”

Q smiled sheepishly, “Eh…”

“It’s complicated.” James muttered as Alec came back to stand beside them.

It was John’s turn to raise an eyebrow as he stared at the three of them. Then realization dawned on his face, “Oh! Well, that’s…” He paused, “That’s fine.” He nodded, extending his hand to Alec, “John Watson, at your service.”

Alec nodded, “Alec Trevelyan.” He shook John’s hand, “though perhaps we should hold the small talk until we take care of…” he trailed off, looking at the dead body.

John blinked, “Oh…I don’t suppose we should call the authorities.”

Q, James, and Alec all chorus “No” before they could stop themselves. Seeing John’s expression, James explained, “Leave that to Alec and I, you and Oliver go into…whatever the hell this places is?” He waved his hand at the building they were behind.

A chuckle came from the former army doctor, “Articulate as ever.” He shook his head, “I’ll buy you three lunch.”

As John walked with Q out of the alley, Alec shared a look with James, “War buddy, hm?”

“He protected Q, didn’t he?” James smirked, “Now come on, we have trash to take out.”