Chapter Text
Q was going to murder Bond. The bloody nuisance had sneaked up on him (a common occurrence, sadly) during an extremely delicate and not entirely MI6 approved experiment and of course things had gone to hell pretty fast. Well, maybe it wasn't so bad, thought Q ; there didn't seem to be a fire, after all, and no signs of an explosion, sort of an improvement. Q just remembered a bright white light, a pretty strong and quite painful jolt of electricity, and then waking up on the floor.
« Bond ? » he croaked, « you better be dead because I'm going to eviscerate you ». His voice sounded strange, so maybe he was hurt somewhere. He looked around and saw no sign of Bond, only the thin shape of a man dressed in what seemed quite familiar clothes. Oh no, one of his minions had been hurt too. He crawled hurriedly towards the man, who thanks goodness started to move too.
« Are you … ? » The words got stuck in his throat when the man turned to face him. Right, Q was a man of science, therefore, instead of panicking, his mind immediately processed the only 3 possible explanations to what he was seeing.
1. He was having an out of body experience. But then, his body would not be moving.
2. He had hit his heat harder than he thought and was hallucinating. But then he would not be having stupid hallucinations. Concussed or not, he was still a genius. His hallucinations would be brilliant, damn it.
3. Oh shit.
M was tapping her fingers nervously on her desk, glaring at the 2 men in front of her who had similar furious expressions on their faces. She sighed exasperatedly.
« So, Quartermaster, to sum it up... »
« You fucked up. »
« Me ?! You're the one who entered a locked lab during... »
« Gentlemen. » Both men immediately fell silent.
« As I was saying, Quartermaster, you were working on a project that I remember very clearly banning. Project Tron... »
Bond snorted loudly.
« ….that was supposed to enable you to transfer your conscience in a computer and somehow... »
« Why were you working on something so stupid anyway ? »
« Stupid ?? It's bloody brilliant, of course you ... »
M slammed her fist on her desk. Both men straightened and blessfully shut up.
«... somehow, during Bond's interference, you exchanged bodies. »
She sighed again. « We will be having words about your issues in following my orders, Quartermaster, and about what is proper conduct in sensitive and classified places, Bond. For now, I just want to know if the process can be reversed, and when. »
Q huffed. « Of course it can be reversed. »
« Good. When ? »
There was an uncomfortable silence.
« Quartermaster ? »
« Well, first I have to assess exactly what happened, then I'll have to rebuild some parts that seem to have been damaged during the ...exchange, do some testing, so...I don't know ? »
M seemed ready to throttle Q.
« Is anybody aware of your current situation ? » she asked in a restrained tone.
« No-one, M », assured Bond. « We went directly to your office. »
« We were in a small lab deep in the tunnels, M, none of my staff ever goes there » added Q.
« Thanks god for small mercies. Now, you 2 go gome, it's much too late to deal with this now. Quartermaster, I will be expecting a report on this tomorrow at 4 p.m.. An oral report » she quickly added. « If this were to be known, there could be some serious repercussions, so keep it silent. »
Q cleared his throat.
« M ? How can I work as Quartermaster looking like Bond without someone noticing ? »
M gave him a cold smile. « I thought it was obvious. You 2 are going to spend a lot of time together in the near future. »
« I'm going home, Bond, you do whatever the hell you want as long as you stay away from me. »
Bond smiled sweetly. « Q, M's brilliant plan requires for me to dress like you. Since I have no idea where to find any of the colourful pieces that only you seem to buy, I need to pick some at you place. Some I'll be choosing, of course. Even you must have something I can tolerate in your wardrobe. »
Q glared but knew a lost battle when he saw one. « All right, but tomorrow morning you come at my place at 7 sharp with some of your clothes. I'm not going to waste my very hard-earned money on some boring suits and ties that I'll never wear again once the universe stops being an arse. »
The drive home proved to be a problem. Bond's car had (of course) been equiped with a dermal sensor and could therefore only be driven by him. Q, with a smug expression that was indeniably Bond's, took the wheel, while Bond sat pouting (again a perfect mimic of Q's usual expression).
They arrived at Q's flat and went in the elevator, Bond's mood for the worst when he realized that he would have to take a cab (or, perish the thought, the tube) to his own appartment.
« Ah » said Q in front of his door.
« Ah what ? » said Bond.
« It may not be such a bad thing that you are here, considering that the alarm inside is also a dermal sensor. You have 3.6 seconds to put your right middle finger and your left pinkie where I point you. Ready, 007 ? »
« 3.6 » said Bond. « What happens if I make it at 3.61 ? »
Q rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, all but pushing Bond inside then turning him flat against the wall, grabbing his hands from behind and put his fingers on...nothing, as far as Bond could see.
« Good », said Q, closing the door with his foot before stepping back.
« I love it when you manhandle me. » said Bond in a seductive tone, turning around and coming face to face with Q.
Bond hadn't been aware that he was capable of blushing but he thought the look was pretty good on him. Pity he had no idea how to do it once he regained his body, it could be useful.
« Bond, I've never had patience for your stupid inuendos and I swear to God that ... » Q started in a menacing tone, before being cut by a loud growl. On reflex, Bond reached for his gun and cursed upon realizing that Q was wearing it. However, the noise seemed to relax Q, who smiled happily and went on his knees.
« Babies, don't worry, the bad man is not staying » he said in dulcet tones. Bond watched the 2 slim cats, one black, one white. They both hissed at Q and one lifted a paw on which very sharp looking claws were fully displayed. « Babies ? » said a stunned Q.
« Q. »
« What ? You traumatized my cats, you brute, you need to get out... »
« Q. Who do you think your cats are seeing right now ? »
There was a long silence.
« Damn. »
« Quite. »
Q got up from the floor and looked sadly at his cats. « Poor confused darlings. This must be so hard on you. » The cats both went to rub against Bond's ankles, purring loudly. Bond smirked and picked them up easily from the floor. He looked smugly at Q. « Focus on the mission, Q. Where is your wardrobe ? »
Speechless, Q just waved his hand towards a door. Bond turned triumphantly and headed that way, both cats glaring over his shoulders at Q all the way.
« Ugly. Over my dead body. Only a clown. You can't be serious. » Bond muttered as each piece of rejected clothing joined the others on the floor. « Ah, at last », he said, picking what seemed like a decent suit. At least it was unicoloured.
« You can't wear that ! » said an indignant voice. « I never wore it at work once ! ». Q would probably have added more but shut up promptly when both cats hissed at him.
« You better watch your tone, Q, you're irritating my new best friends. »
Q took a deep breath then said with a self control that Bond couldn't help but admire. « Take the bloody suit and just leave. If you would be so kind.» he added with a pointed look to the cats.
« In a moment, Q, I still need a shirt, tie, underwear, socks. And some real shoes. Now, boys, be nice with the rude man, after all he is very good looking. » said Bond, scratching the cats on their chins before opening some drawers.
Q sat tentatively on the bed but jumped back when the fur on both cats raised. « Sov, QeD, babies, it's me. » he said pleadingly. The cats just stared. « What's the point of having all those whiskers if you can't even recognize me. » grumbled Q. He sighed and left to wait in the living room.
10 minutes later, Bond emerged from his bedroom, closely followed by the 2 cats.
« Well, Q, I've got all I need. I'll see you in the morning. » he said, walking to the door.
« Good, good-night, 007 » Q answered hurriedly. However, as soon as Bond reached the door, the 2 cats started mewling franctically.
As soon as the door opened, they both rushed outside and went straigth to the elevator, still mewling loudly. Bond grabbed them and brought them back inside, Q not daring to touch them. When Bond tried to put them down, they both clawed to his clothes and refused to let go, except to scratch at Q when he tried to help. Both men looked at each other.
« I suppose I could take them home but I don't have anything for them there. » said Bond.
Q was holding a handkerchief to a bloodied hand, looking dazed. « My cats hate me » he said blankly.
« Well, technically, they hate me but I see your point. »
« My cats hate me » repeated Q. « And I really really hate you » he added.
Bond just smirked. « That's a bit schizophrenic, under the circumstances. » he noted.
Q took a deep breath. « Tomorrow. One night around you and they'll realize you're not me. For tonight, you stay here, I'll go at your place. Just remember, the white one is Sov and the black one is QeD.»
Bond raised his eyebrows. « Do I even want to know ? »
« It's klingon » said Q defensely, « it means knowledge and science. » He picked up Bond's coat and went to the door.
« Of course it does. Good night, Q. Do not damage my car on your way home. » And Bond and the cats watched Q get in the elevator before closing the door.
Bond rolled his eyes when his phone pinged for the 28th time in the last 15 minutes. The Quartermaster could certainly type fast. Bond had read the first 2 messages and upon realizing that they were extremely detailed instructions on the care of the cats, he had ignored the rest.
« Seriously ? » he asked the 2 felines that had perched themselves on the kitchen counter, watching carefully as he filled their plates (couldn't you share the same ? he had scoffed). « You're cats. My gun requires more high-maintenance than you. So eat this, then go scratch something somewhere or do your purring far away from my ears and I'll see you again in the morning. »
He sat their bowls on the floor. « Eat ».
The cats blinked in unison, unimpressed, and didn't move. Then the white one started mewling, immediately followed by the black one. Bond raised an eyebrow, something that usually worked fine on humans, but both cats only mewled lowder. Bond sighed. They were Q's cats, of course they would have irritating personalities.
« Eat » he repeated sternly. On cue, both cats jumped from the counter and started running madly across the flat (Bond was pretty sure that he saw the white one make it to the ceiling). Bond watched in amazement when on a ride back one cat landed on the side of a plate (purposely he strongly suspected) and sent it flying in the air. Bond could only be thankful that he was not, in fact, wearing his clothes.
Reading Q's messages suddenly seemed a good idea.
Q was typing his 32th message when there was a quiet knock on the door. He hesitated ; Bond hadn't mentioned any visitor and both his building and flat, like his, were far too secured for anyone to reach the door without setting of an alarm (Q would know, he had designed the security systems himself). He went silently to the door and saw on the screen next to it what seemed to be a very beautiful blonde woman, wearing a lace slip. A very see-through lace slip.
« James ? Hurry up, my terrifying Tiger » was whispered in a very low and huskyy tone.
Great.
Q had no idea what to do. M had been very specific in telling them to act exactly like each other, so as not raise suspicions and there was no doubt that Bond would open his door to a beautiful and very lightly dressed woman. What's more, she obviously knew he was home.
Q quickly took a snap of the screen with his phone and ran a home-made face-scan program. « Shelly Barpa, 32, housewife of Harry Barpa, 58, promoter of sporting events and former boxing champion. » Q sighed. « Only you, Bond ». The Barpas were Bond's next door neighbours, which at least explained how the woman got there.
« James ? » The knocking got louder. « Hurry, we only have 2 hours! ».
Q swallowed.
Then he reached for the handle and opened the door with far more confidence than he felt. He could manage this. Probably.