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The bombing happened on a Tuesday. The lethal firefight with a Russian arms smuggling right happened on a Wednesday.
But with the wonders of timezones, the firefight began first.
“007, are you hurt?” Q called into his headset, monitoring the agent’s vitals as he looked up the blueprints of the building Bond was in.
“Negative. Though that might change soon if I don’t get out of here.” Judging by the way 007’s heart rate was up, it was a good chance he was either running or lying about being injured.
But Q would deal with that later if that was the case. Right now the priority was getting the agent out of harm’s way and back to MI6.
“There is a garbage chute coming up on your right. It will take you down to the first level garbage bay.”
There was a grunt on the other end of the line, “I seem to remember this not playing out so well in Star Wars.”
Q was about to give Bond a smart response, but that was when the bombing happened.
No one was quite sure how the bomb was planted in Q branch, but then again, that could be figured out at a later time. There were more pressing matters to attend to. Such as the injured.
It was shortly after the explosion that Q found himself on the floor, headset still in place and his laptop several feet away.
“What the hell was that?” James asked, alarmed.
“It was nothing, just a minion wiring something wrong.” Q lied, trying to get to his laptop. It was only when he made to stand that he realized he couldn’t feel his legs, so he had to make due with crawling to his computer, “Where are you now?”
“Ín the Garbage Bay.” Came James’s response, “Or more specifically, in a garbage truck.”
“Good…” Q murmured, getting himself to his laptop, “That should get you off the premise…”
“Not with the compound on lockdown. The gates are shut and locked.”
Q would have sworn if he had the breath, instead he inhaled deeply, ignoring how laboring it was to do so, “I’ll work on it, I should be able to get the gates open…” he replied weakly, typing away at his keyboard.
“Q?” There was a change in 007’s voice, “Q, what’s wrong with you?”
“It’s nothing, James, don’t worry.” Q took another deep breath, trying to hack the compound’s security system long enough to unlock the gates for James. “I’m just tired…”
And he was, though Q knew that is wasn’t out of a need for sleep, it was his body shutting down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a rapidly growing pool of blood, and he realized, quite morbidly, that it was his own. Huh, how had he not felt that pain? Adrenalin, most likely…
“…You never call me James while I’m on assignment.”
Q let a small smile cross his face, “There…” he breathed, “The gates are open…get the hell out of there, James…”
“Q?”
The Quartermaster rest his head against the cold tiles. Maybe if he just shut his eyes for a minute…
“Q?...Q!”
Q knew he was in Medical before he opened his eyes. Really, there was no other place he could be after what had happened. And judging by the rather numb sensation throughout his body, he was on some pretty heavy painkillers.
Great, that meant he had some serious injuries…not like he hadn’t known that from the beginning, but still.
With a sigh, Q slowly opened his eyes.
He had expected the bright lights and sterile setting of the Medical bay. He had even expected that he would be hooked up to a number of IVs.
What he hadn’t expected was for a battered 007 to be seated next to his bed, watching him intently.
“You’re awake…” James murmured, exhausted.
The Quartermaster nodded, “I guess I am…” He looked at James, “How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?”
The agent rubbed his face tiredly, “Probably the past three days, I tend to lose track of time when I’m in here…”
“Three days, damn…” Q groaned. He had been hurt worse than he thought…
“Is this what it’s like?” James asked suddenly.
Q raised an eyebrow, “What is what like?”
“Is this how you feel every time I come back injured or I take a hit on an assignment?” The agent replied quietly.
There were a few tense moments when Q didn’t speak, not sure how to answer, “I imagine so…” he answered finally.
James nodded, “I’m so sorry…” He whispered, taking Q’s hand and pressing several kisses to it.
Q couldn’t help but smile, “Well at least we’re both alright now.”