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Had Q known that Agent 007 would be walking into the room, he would not have had a newspaper article proclaiming his brother’s apparent suicide up on the projector screen. As it was, Bond did enter the room at a rather inopportune moment. The agent did not question the article, though; Q was always looking over various assortments of information and therefore he did not find it odd than the young man was reflecting on the suicide of an infamous detective from nearly two years previous.
“Is there something I can do for you, 007?”
“Not at present,” he responded vaguely, looking up at the screen. The two of them fell silent for a short while before Q eventually spoke.
“It’s always seemed odd to me he’d chosen that way to go. He always seemed so much more… dignified than that.”
The MI6 agent nodded slightly, sharp eyes continuing to scan the article.
“I met him once.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. Extremely intelligent, far beyond what I had anticipated. He was also an arrogant sod-“
“I would mind what you say in the presence of others, Mr. Bond,” a sharp voice said from behind the pair, and the two quickly turned around to face the newcomer.
“My apologies, Mr. Holmes,” Bond quickly attempted to correct, standing straighter and tilting his head up slightly, “I meant no offense-“
“Offense or not, I would recommend keeping such thoughts to yourself. You don’t believe kind words were what caused my brother to jump, do you?”
The agent shook his head, feeling Mycroft’s sharp gaze drilling into him and understanding the implications behind the rhetoric.
“No, sir. Again, my apologies-“
“Leave us."
“Yes, sir.” Bond quickly gave Q a curt nod of farewell before exiting the room.
As the door closed with a solid sound of finality, Mycroft studied the young man before him. When Q refused to make eye contact, let alone initiate conversation, Mycroft let out a low sigh, switching his gaze to the ground.
“It had to be kept-“
“Secret, yes, I know. I hold some of the most closely guarded secrets in the entire world, Mycroft, why could you not trust me with this information? Surely you knew I wouldn’t tell!”
The elder Holmes looked up at him, looking almost remorseful. Not quite, but almost.
“You’re young, brother. You are capable of making mistakes, and we couldn’t risk jeopardizing the mission for a small thing like sentiment-“
Q scoffed harshly, pointing a finger, “See there, that is why I distance myself from you two. You seem to be under the impression that feelings and emotions are hindrances, obstacles and distractions, but they aren’t. And I will never understand you when it comes to that, you’ve never understood h-“
“This is not about us, though I’d appreciate if you'd not paint me as an apathetic villain the moment I walk through the door, now be silent and listen,” Mycroft snapped rapidly before forcing himself to calm, taking a breath and continuing in a low voice, “Sherlock is coming back very soon. I will be going out to retrieve him, and I have several requests to make of you in order for that to happen.”
Q stared at him a moment, turning over the words and eventually giving a committed nod.
“What do you need me to do?”
--------------------
James was seated at a desk in one of the basement interrogation rooms, idly cleaning his weapon and appreciating the isolation the small and darkened room granted. He was not surprised, however, when the door opened without a knock and a shadow fell over the table, a silhouette he was all too familiar with. He chose not to look up from his gun as he began to reassemble it.
“I have a job for you,” Mycroft said with an air of strict authority, and 007 nodded, keeping his focus on his sidearm.
“I suspected as much."
“M has removed you from all future assignments until further notice.”
Bond paused, eventually looking up with a furrowed brow.
“I had several assigned-“
“The mission I am giving you is of Priority One status. You will not argue, you will follow through, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Mycroft pulled out the chair across from the agent, taking a seat and propping his elbows on the table, clasping his hands in front of him.
“Have you ever been to Serbia, Mr. Bond?”