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Chapter Text

James Bond sighed in relief as he turned his key in the lock and pushed open the door to his flat. His mission hadn’t been long, but he’d been up for almost 48 hours, and he was looking forward to a hot shower, a good meal with the visitor he expected would show up soon to check on him, and then his bed — with or without his visitor. He really was that tired.

The late afternoon sun blazed through the window, so it took him a second to realize that the lights were on. How odd. They should be on a timer, to turn them on for a few hours at dusk. Had he left them on, instead? It wouldn’t be his visitor already; he knew Q still had some things to finish at MI6. Besides, if it had been Q, the drapes would be closed. His Quartermaster prefered gloom and rain to sunshine. It was almost a shame that Skyfall had been destroyed. He could have taken both his lovers there for a holiday. Q would have loved the gloomy old deathtrap, and Alec would have loved the opportunity for target practice. Neither of them cared for hunting, and with no neighbors for miles around, they could have set up a private range. James flipped the switch off — no sense wasting any more electricity.

Raowr

He stopped mid-motion and looked toward the rear of the flat. What the hell was that?

Raowr

“Hush, shhh, it’s not so bad.” There was a pause, then — “Ow! Fucking damn it, stop that.”

Alec? But he was supposed to still be undercover. Suspicious, but not alarmed, James headed towards the bathroom, where he could hear muttering. If Alec was back from his mission early, why was he here rather than his own flat, and who was he talking to? 

He put his tablet — the only piece of his equipment to survive his mission — down on the side table as he passed it. The only other thing on that table was the odd decorative box Q had given him. His Quartermaster had set it on the side table, and that's where it stayed. James had never felt the need to move it. He thought it might be empty; Alec had knocked on it once, and it had sounded hollow. Odd… neither of them had tried to open it. Normally they just ignored it. 

An alarming thump came from the bathroom and he gave his head a shake. What had he just been thinking about? Another few strides took him to his destination. As he got closer, he detected a hint of soap and some scent he couldn’t identify in the humid air escaping the bathroom. He rounded the corner and peeked in. 

Alec knelt on the floor, his sodden t-shirt clinging to his body while his damp jeans stretched taut over muscled thighs. He had stuck one knuckle in his mouth, sucking on it, while pinning a terrycloth covered bundle to the floor with his other hand. The bundle pushed back at his hand with an angry raowr.

James found himself entering the room with a sense of disbelief. It couldn’t be what it sounded like. “What the hell is going on?”

Alec looked up, pulling his still bleeding finger from his mouth, and grinned cheerfully at him. “James! We weren’t expecting you!”

“Who’s we?” he asked, eyeing the cloth bundle warily. No. Not even Alec would — 

“Oh, nobody really,” Alec said guilessly, attempting to pull the bundle behind him one-handed. He went to use his injured hand, but the aborted movement caused the sluggishly bleeding wound to reopen.

“Oh, for god’s sake, give me your hand,” James snapped, bending down to take it and inspect the wound. This close, he could detect the faint smell of blood and spent gunpowder. Worry twisted his gut, but he hadn’t seen any other obvious wounds on Alec apart from the one on his hand. Two small punctures, separated by a set of dimpled indents where sharp teeth hadn’t quite managed to break through the skin. He tsked and grabbed a clean flannel from the counter to put pressure on the wound. He was about to ask again when part of a damp, tawny head and one rounded ear worked its way out from the cloth. 

Raowr. It displayed a mouth full of needle sharp baby teeth and bright amber eyes. It shook itself, dislodging the rest of the towel, and looked around the strange place it found itself.

He tried to keep his voice even as he asked, “Why do you have a lion cub in my bathroom, Alec?” 

“Because I don’t have a bathtub at my flat,” Alec said reasonably, the unsaid of course hanging in the air between them. 

James paused, letting go of Alec’s hand after determining the wound was no longer bleeding. It was true that the other flat only had a huge shower, with a seemingly inexhaustible hot water supply — one that they’d attempted several times to exhaust — but that wasn’t an explanation. “Why do you need to bathe a lion cub in the first place?”

“Well, she was covered in dirt and blood.” Alec ducked his head to talk directly to the cub. “Weren’t you, sweetheart? You were all over dirt and blood, yes, you were, so you got a bath in Uncle James’ tub.”

‘Uncle’ James blinked in surprise at the baby talk coming out of the mouth of one of MI6’s deadliest Double O’s. He checked the time and swore. His bathroom was a disaster, Alec had a lion cub, and Q was sure to be over any minute to check on him. “Let’s keep this simple. I don’t care where you got it, it’s got to go. Q will be here soon.”

The grin on Alec’s face vanished, replaced by a pout of hurt bewilderment. “Go? Where? She’s an orphan! And you know Q likes cats.”

“House cats, not wild animals.”

Alec gasped theatrically, and covered the cub’s ears. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. You’re not a wild animal.” The cub raowr’d again and shook her head as she clumsily tried to free herself from hands that were almost the size of her head.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“I can tell we’re not wanted. Come on, sweetheart.” Alec gathered the cub into his arms and stood, glaring at James. “She needs some milk. I have it in the kitchen, warming. I’ll give her a feed and then we’ll go.”

Oh, for — “Alec!”

But Alec pushed past him, carrying the cub out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, leaving him no choice but to follow.

James got to the kitchen in time to see Alec shift the cub to one arm and pull a bottle out of a pan of water on the stovetop. He did a double take — Alec had used the stove without causing a fire or other disaster?

Alec was ignoring him apparently, and sat at the table to offer the cub the bottle. He folded the towel on his lap and arranged the cub so she was lying on her stomach. She was obviously hungry, because she latched on and began sucking greedily, her claws catching on the towel as she kneaded, rather than on the wet jeans. James had a moment of jealousy at the soft, besotted expression Alec had while feeding the cub. 

“I was undercover with a crime lord.” The story started quietly. “He bought the cub from another group, and had no idea how to care for her. He was trying to force feed her chunks of raw meat. She’s far too young for that.”

James sighed, and, knowing he’d already lost, refrained from pointing out she had teeth, so a little meat probably wouldn’t have hurt. Instead, he asked just as quietly, “What did you do?”

Satisfaction crept into Alec’s voice. “I shot him, of course. Then I picked up Andromache —”

He shook his head. The name had almost sounded like Andromeda, but not quite. He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help himself. “Andromakey?”

“Don’t you think she looks like an Andromache?” Alec asked, looking up at him hopefully.

Q told them once about a childhood pet — a tarantula — named Andromeda. Maybe that was where Alec got the idea for his cub’s name? James shrugged helplessly, completely unable to deny Alec anything when he looked at him like that. “Sure. Of course.” 

Alec beamed at him, then checked the cub, to see if she was done with her bottle. Evidently she was, and ready to settle down for a postprandial nap. Alec stroked her as he continued his story. “I got her carrier, put her in my car, ordered some formula delivered to your flat, and took the Chunnel home.”

And came here rather than to Alec’s own flat, because he was the one with the foresight to have a bathtub big enough for two. The cub yawned hugely, showing off all of her needle-sharp teeth, and snuggled into Alec’s lap. He had to admit, she was rather cute. “Are you sure that’s the correct formula?”

“Yes. It’s Esbilac, made with goat’s milk. I researched it when my target bought her. It’s not perfect, but it will do for now.”

Right. Take care of the now and worry about later, well, later. Part mission mindset, and part what made a Double O a Double O.

Sharp knocking on the front door caused them both to look up, tensing.

“That will be Q,” James said, noting the sudden tension disappear from Alec’s shoulders at his words. “You need to hide the cub.”

“I told you,” Alec scoffed, “Q likes cats.”

“I’m running on almost 48 hours of no sleep, Alec.” James sighed, reaching for near-depleted reserves. He was too tired to deal with a lover who had brought home a lion cub. He still hadn’t had his shower, he was still hungry, and his bed was still calling.

Alec snorted softly. “No wonder you’re so grumpy.”

James rounded on him, ready to snap, when a familiar voice stopped him.

“James, I —” Q stopped short as he came into the kitchen, his dark brows rising over the rim of his glasses as he stared at Alec and the cub. “Well. Apparently I won’t have to break the news of Alec’s disappearance to you after all.”

“Hello, Q.” Alec looked not in the least abashed. “Sorry for not checking in, but I’ve been a bit busy.”

“I see that.” Q eyed the cub curiously, then went to James to give him a kiss. “How are you doing? I heard you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

James pulled Q in close, loving the feel of his Quartermaster’s wiry strength, which was so different from his or Alec’s. “Tired. Happy to see you.” Admitting that — admitting to weakness — still felt like taking a leap off a tall cliff, but he knew that his lovers would catch him.

James got to have his embrace for only a moment before Q squeezed him tighter and then released him, going to see Alec. He sighed as Q bent over to coo at the cub. Looked like Alec had been right about their Quartermaster and cats. “You two can stay here with the cub, but I’m getting a shower. If either of you can tear yourselves away from her, could you order dinner?”

Q looked up at him, eyes widening. “Yes, you look awful. Go get cleaned up. Don’t worry about food; I’ll take care of everything.”

After his shower, James came back to the kitchen to find that Q had ordered dinner from their favorite restaurant. They didn’t normally deliver, but James supposed Q had his ways. The thick steak was just what he needed. He deliberately failed to notice his lovers surreptitiously holding tiny bits of steak out for the cub. He, of course, was completely unobserved by the other two when he offered her a sliver of meat.

When dinner was over, he took Q to bed — to sleep. Alec was banished to a cot in the bathroom, which they had deemed the only safe place to keep the cub, who had a still shaky notion of toileting responsibly. 

And the next morning, they woke to find she had gone exploring the flat while Alec showered.

They were in the kitchen again, and Alec was feeding Andromache her formula once more. On the table were the ruins of James’ best shoes, one of his favorite ties, and all of his patience.

“You know we can’t keep her,” Q said gently, one hand hovering over Alec’s arm as though uncertain whether the contact would help. “A flat is no place for a lion cub.”

“But she’s so little,” Alec protested, although James could tell it was more an automatic protest against the inevitable.

“I know a safe place for her, where she’ll be well cared for,” Q promised.

James could see Alec wavering, and weighed in. “We can visit her, wherever she is. Any time you want.” The brilliant smile Alec sent his way, and Q’s beam of approval, made it worth it.

“Where did you have in mind, Q?”

“I have some cousins in America…”

 Vwoorp! Vwoorp! Vwoorp!

“Ahhh, mail’s in.” Morticia Addams looked up from trimming her roses and smiled. She adored getting mail — who knew what lovely pain might spring from it? “Would you get that, please, Wednesday?”

“Yes, Mother.” Wednesday put down her headless doll and went to the side table next to the couch. An ornate box on the table opened, and the tip of a sheaf of letters emerged. As the letters rose, it became apparent they were held by a disembodied human hand, thrusting them into the air.

“Thank you, Thing,” her daughter said gravely, taking the letters from the hand. Wednesday looked them over, dropping the apparently uninteresting ones — including one from the IRS and one marked PAST DUE — on the floor, until she came to one that she held up and looked at intently. “Mother, you have a letter from one of our cousins in England.”

“Oh, how nice.” Morticia put down her shears as Wednesday handed her the letter. “It’s from dear cousin Ambrose.”

“Cousin Ambrose? Alley ooop! Ooop!” Gomez, doing a headstand in the middle of the room, tumbled forward to land on his feet with a bounce. He followed this feat by straightening his suit coat and pulling a lit cigar out of his pocket to put in his mouth. “What does he say?”

“Just a moment, darling. I’m reading.” Morticia pulled the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it. “I do adore cousin Ambrose’s handwriting. It’s so messy and misspelled.”

Gomez looked thoughtful, then shrugged. 

Morticia tilted the letter to the right and frowned. The writing still didn’t make sense. She turned it back to the left. No, still nothing. How odd… Oh! Of course. She smiled as she turned the letter over and the writing became clear. “Oh, how lovely. Do you remember he’s dating two nice boys he met at work, dear? He says that one of them brought a lion cub home for him.”

“What a thoughtful gift.”

“And, oh dear. He needs a home for the poor thing. He says their flat is just too small for a lion.” She looked at her husband, gracefully smoothing her long dark hair away from her face. “Do you think we could offer it a home here? Kitty Kat would love a playmate.”

“Ah, Tish. So generous.” Gomez took her arm gently and pressed a line of kisses up to her shoulder.

“Not now, Gomez. I must compose a letter to cousin Ambrose.” Morticia put a hand up, warding off her husband as he reached her neck. She could see his reluctance, so she said, “Later, darling. We can visit the playroom.”

His eyes gleamed and he straightened, sticking his cigar back in his mouth. “Excellent idea, cara mia.”

She caressed his cheek and cooed, “Querido mio.” She loved the way he looked at her, as though he was a parched desert, and she was the rain. But she had no time for sentiment, that would come later. In the playroom.

“Take a letter, please, Thing.”

Chapter Text

Q sat in James’ kitchen, drinking his tea with little Andromache on his lap. His agents would be home any minute, and he could give them the good news. He and Alec had taken to staying with James rather than their own flats since Alec had brought the cub home. He rather thought James didn’t mind, despite the frequent vocal protests.

The letter from cousin Morticia lay on the table beside his mug, steaming with a lovely blend of henbane tea that his cousin had sent along with the invitation. She always had such an interesting way with tea leaves — brewing, as well as reading.

The front door opened, and a familiar voice called, “Q? We’re home.”

“In the kitchen, James,” he called back, soothing Andromache back into sleep as the noise woke her. He gulped down the rest of his tea, relishing the burn. It wouldn’t do for James or Alec to notice the… unusual nature of the blend. Although, if they did end up meeting his American cousins… Well, time enough for that worry later.

Q smiled as his lovers came in from their morning run, and first James, then Alec kissed him. A very nice greeting, he hummed to himself. All sweat and male musk giving him a kick in the libido. Hopefully his lovers would take his news well enough, and they could spend the rest of the morning in their bed.

After kissing him, Alec took custody of their lion cub, pulling her over to his own lap. Andromache barely noticed the change of locale except to yawn widely, showing off a gap where a baby fang had fallen out, and settle back down to sleep. Their little cub was growing fast.

James went to the coffee maker. “Coffee, Alec?”

“Please.”

Q toyed with his mug while James busied himself first with the coffee, then with a fry up. He had no idea how his lovers could eat so much after a strenuous workout.

When he judged that their feeding frenzy had abated somewhat, he broke the news. He laid his hand on the letter and said, “I’ve heard from my cousins in America. They’re willing to give Andromache a home.”

James and Alec turned to look at him, their expressions strangely intent as he spoke.

“Cousin Gomez and Cousin Morticia Addams, and their children, Wednesday and Pugsley. They have a large house and huge property, with plenty of room for a lion or two. They already have one lion, so Andromache will have company. I think she’ll be happy there.”

Alec stroked the cub. “You’re sure?”

Q nodded reassuringly. “Positive.” He held his breath as he waited for Alec’s decision, and James reached over and squeezed Alec’s arm in support.

Alec smiled gratefully at James, then took a deep breath and nodded to Q. “All right. When do we go?”

“In two days. I need to make the flight arrangements. I have some cousins with a plane —”  

“How many cousins do you have, Q?” James asked.

If only you knew, Q thought to himself. But they’d find out soon enough. He spent the rest of the morning telling them about his American cousins — although not too much. He didn’t want to scare them away.

All in all, he was glad that Andromache had come into their lives. She made an excellent excuse to introduce his lovers to his family. He just hoped they could cope. The Addamses weren’t for the faint of heart. 

He thought James and Alec would be just fine, though. As long as no one started shooting. He shuddered. Best to ask Morticia to confiscate Uncle Fester’s rifle...

James peeled his white-knuckled hands from the armrests finger by finger. The rattletrap plane flown by Q’s cousins had finally made enough contact with the ground — for long enough — that he felt he could say with some accuracy that they had landed.

Next to him, Q glanced down and patted his hand. “Don’t worry. Cousin Orville and Cousin Wilbur haven’t crashed yet.”

He snorted. That ‘yet’ wasn’t at all comforting. Across from them, Alec lounged, looking comfortably relaxed, cuddling Andromache in his lap. The lion cub seemed unfazed by air travel, even as rough as this flight had been.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Q smirked at him and said, “I’ve already arranged for first class tickets for us on our flight home.”

“Good.” He normally loved flying — but not when the plane he was on might fall out of the sky at any moment. At least, not when he wasn’t the pilot in control of where it fell.

The plane rattled to a stop next to a ramshackle hanger. He didn’t see who pushed the stairs to the aircraft, but once they were in place, Q got up to open the door, allowing warm air to flow into the cabin. 

“You two go on ahead, I need to speak to my cousins a moment,” Q said, stepping back from the door.

James looked at Alec, still holding their cub, and shrugged. Then the two of them descended to the tarmac where Alec put Andromache down, so she could walk around a little.

“That was a hell of a flight,” James said as they watched the cub. He knew that Alec needed to be in control as much as he did, so he asked, “Why were you so calm?”

Alec stared at him. “What do you mean? Didn’t you see the pile of supplies in the cabin?”

He frowned. “Yes, but I thought the pilots were smuggling something.” He knew they were Q’s cousins, and probably were doing nothing illegal, but given the overall feel of this operation? He wouldn’t be willing to place any bets on that.

Alec rolled his eyes. “I checked out the plane when Q made the arrangements. I made sure there was a raft and enough parachutes for each of us brought in and stowed. I told you I brought supplies.”

Oh. “I thought you mean lube and condoms.” Damn. He hadn’t brought any, because he thought Alec had taken care of it. Where would he be able to get them before they went to Q’s cousin’s house?

Alec looked sly as he leaned into him and purred, “Don’t worry, I brought those, too.”

James relaxed in relief. “Good.”

A thud from behind had them spinning around, hands hovering near their guns, ready to draw. But it was only someone tossing their bags out of the plane’s hold. James forced himself to loosen his shoulders and take a deep breath. He noted that Alec did the same thing. There was something odd about the shadow of the individual in the hold, but James dismissed the oddity when Q approached them.

“Our car will be here soon. Cousin Gomez and Cousin Morticia sent their butler with the family car.”

Sure enough, a few moments later, an antique Packard V-12 approached from around the rear of the hanger. Alec bent to pick up Andromache.

Q leaned toward them, warning them once again. “My cousins might seem… unusual, to you. Please don’t be alarmed or try to shoot them, all right?”

James shared a perplexed look with Alec, then shrugged. How odd could Q’s family really be?

Very odd, as it turned out. The Addams’ butler, Lurch, turned out to be a giant of a man, whose preferred mode of communication was a deep groan. Q had seemed happy to see him, so James and Alec had gone along with it.

The drive to the Addams’ house went quickly, despite the advanced age of the car. They obviously kept the antique in good repair. It wasn’t long before Lurch was pulling up next to a Gothic Revival style house with an iron fence surrounding it.

“Home,” Lurch groaned.

“Thank you, Lurch,” Q said, getting out of the car. “Let’s go, I can’t wait for you two to meet the family.”

Lurch refused to allow them to carry their own bags, so James and Alec followed Q to the front door, where Q pulled a knob. A foghorn’s mournful wail announced the visitors to those within. The door creaked open in response, revealing a young girl, skin as pale as Q’s, with long braids the same color as Q’s wild mop. She stared curiously at them with unblinking eyes.

James shared another look with Alec, who just shrugged back at him. Andromache didn’t appreciate the movement and grumbled a bit. 

“Hello, Wednesday,” Q said, smiling at the little girl. “May we come in?”

She nodded and stepped aside. “Hello, Cousin Ambrose. Is that your lion cub?”

“Yes, this is Andromache. Where are your parents?”

“They’re in the living room,” Wednesday said, pointing. Then she took Q’s hand and put her hand out to James, obviously expecting him to take it. 

He did, and she grasped his hand tighter than he expected. An experimental tug to free his hand from her grip did no good, and he wasn’t about to create a fuss in front of Q’s family, so James gave up, and let Wednesday lead them to the right and down a set of stairs, with Alec trailing behind them with Andromache.

There was movement in the living room, but what caught James’ attention first was the decor. Multiple hunting trophies on the wall and around the room, side by side with antiques. A moose head with huge antlers — one of which was bent down — hung on the wall opposite the entry, an immense stuffed brown bear stood beside the stairs, a giant two-headed tortoise rested on a table, and the head and body of a stuffed swordfish with a pyjama-clad human leg sticking out of its mouth hung on another wall. James shook his head, and pulled his attention away from the strange decorations to study their hosts — Q’s cousins. Who were… fencing?

Morticia was a lovely woman, a grown up version of her daughter, with the same pale skin and long hair, although hers hung loose in rippling waves. She wore a long, tight black dress that should have impeded her movements, but she wielded her fencing foil with equanimity, gracefully countering her opponent’s wild swings and lunges.

Gomez smoked a cigar as he leapt and danced back, deftly pressing his attacks and evading his lovely wife’s counters. He had the family’s dark hair, although his seemed more tame than Q’s, and a small moustache. His pin-striped suit hung a trifle overlarge on his medium frame. James thought Gomez ought to have a word with his tailor.

“Mother, Father,” Wednesday called. “Cousin Ambrose has arrived.”

Morticia and Gomez ended their duel with identical flourishes and laid their foils on a nearby table. Then Gomez offered Morticia his arm. She regally rested her hand upon it as they turned to greet their guests.

“Cher cousin Ambrose,” Morticia began, only to be interrupted by her husband.

Gomez tossed his lit cigar to the side. “Tish! That’s French!” He took her arm, feverishly placing a line of kisses along it, and begging her to say something else in French.

“Not now, Gomez darling,” Morticia said, holding her hand between her husband and her neck. “Guests now, French later.”

Gomez pulled back with a regretful sigh. “Quite right, cara mia.” He pulled another cigar — already lit — from his suit’s breast pocket and put it in his mouth. 

Morticia smiled indulgently at him.

“Cousin Ambrose, gentlemen, welcome to our home!” Gomez beamed maniacally at them, the called, “Lurch! Take our guests’ luggage to their rooms!”

“Room, darling. They’re sharing, remember?” 

“Oh, yes, right. To their room, Lurch!” Gomez cried, extravagantly waving his cigar-encumbered hand in a generally upward direction. 

James traded a glance with Alec, and gave him a little shrug. Alec dipped his chin slightly in response. Wait and see.

Lurch groaned and walked toward the stairs with their bags, just as a huge explosion rocked the room. The butler didn’t seem to notice and kept walking. 

None of the Addamses seemed fazed, and even Andromache simply dozed in Alec’s arms. Morticia noticed James and Alec looking around uneasily, and said, “Don’t worry, that’s just Uncle Fester and little Pugsley playing with dynamite.”

“No fair,” Wednesday pouted. “They were supposed to wait for me.”

“It’s all right, darling,” Morticia assured her daughter. “There’s plenty of dynamite for you to play with too.”

James got a sinking feeling as Alec’s eyes gleamed as brightly as Wednesday’s. This time he traded a look with Q. There was no way this would end well.

“Now then,” Morticia said regally, “allow me to add to my husband’s greeting. Cousin Ambrose, Cousin James, Cousin Alec, and dear little Andromache. Welcome to our home.”

James leaned toward Q and whispered, “She does know that Alec and I aren’t related to your family, right?”

Q shrugged with an odd gleam in his eyes. “You might as well consider us family now. We Addamses get very possessive.”

James blinked. Right. He turned to see how Alec was reacting — but Alec was no longer standing next to him. 

“My dear Morticia,” Alec purred, somehow managing to take her hand and bow while still keeping hold of Andromache in his other arm. “I am utterly desolate that I am obviously too late to win your hand. I must beg for the chance to bask in your beauty as I console myself with my beloved Ambrose and James.”

“How gallant.” Morticia smiled serenely. “I can see we have quite the charmer here, darling.”

James watched Gomez carefully, to see how their host was taking Alec’s charm, but to his relief Gomez just calmly puffed on his cigar.

“Now then, let’s get little Andromache settled in her new home. Follow me, please. Gomez, darling?”

Gomez once more offered his wife his arm, which she took as regally as before.

Alec flashed a grin at James before turning to follow their hosts.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Q whispered to James. “At least… it should be fine.”

James considered all the ways this trip could suddenly go wrong. Sword-wielding jealous spouses, giant butlers, children playing with explosives…  Of course this was Q’s family. Well, he’d gone through worse missions and survived. Mentally shrugging, he took Q’s hand and followed their hosts.

Chapter Text

Andromache’s new home was in the back yard, a vast grassy meadow bounded by a swamp on two sides and the cemetery next door. Wednesday took one look at the bright sunshine and fled back inside. Morticia, wearing sunglasses, a wrap, and carrying a parasol, remained sheltered from the sun on the porch, while Gomez ventured outdoors with Alec and the cub.

James and Q watched beside Morticia as the meeting between cub and adult went well. Kitty Kat, the Addams’ improbably named lion, seemed to take to Andromache quickly, sniffing her, then holding her down with one paw for a thorough grooming. That was a relief. According to James’ research, adult male lions sometimes killed cubs that weren’t their own. Andromache wasn’t as thrilled, and her baby raowr of protest filled the yard.

Gomez and Alec returned to the porch and joined them in watching the lions.

In the meadow, grooming finished, Kitty released Andromache and lay down, ostensibly ignoring the cub. 

Andromache wandered around a bit, then turned back to Kitty and crouched, the tip of her tail twitching and every line of her body aimed at her prey. She wiggled with excitement, adjusting her position minutely, and then she launched herself into the air, claws extended.

Kitty gave an exaggerated roar as she landed on him and sank her tiny fangs into his mane, accompanied by the ferocious sound of her baby growls.

“She’s settling in well,” Morticia said. “We should let these two alone to get better acquainted. Shall we go in? It’s so horrible and sunny out here.”

Q was as relieved to get out of the sunlight as he was happy to get back into the house. He had always loved this place, ever since the first time he’d set foot inside it as a child, on a visit to his cousin. As Mortica and Gomez led them back to the living room, Q took Alec’s hand and squeezed it, pleased to see that James flanked their lover on the other side. He knew how hard Alec was finding it to leave their lion cub behind. 

“Ambrose! It’s good to see you again!” Uncle Fester was suddenly there, swooping in for a hug, and neatly separated him from Alec.

“Hello, Uncle,” Q managed, all his breath squeezed out of him. He pried his way free, worried that James or Alec would take action. Sure enough, they both looked ready to take his uncle apart. “James, Alec, this is my uncle, Fester. Uncle, these are my boyfriends, James and Alec.”

“Oh, goody!” Fester beamed at them. “You’re here to get family approval for your nuptials. It’s about time!”

“Uh, Uncle…” It was a good thing Addamses didn’t blush. As it was, Q didn’t dare look at James or Alec to see how they were taking his uncle’s assumption.

Fester clapped his hands together with enthusiasm. “We can host the wedding here. We have plenty of room. Now, don’t worry about anything, I’m a great wedding planner!”

“Fester, dear, we mustn’t assume. They may not want to marry Ambrose.” Morticia pointed out calmly.

“They’re not gonna marry Ambrose?” Fester’s eyes narrowed, and he reached behind him to pull out a blunderbuss. “I’ll shoot ’em in the back!”

As one, James and Alec started forward, reaching towards their holsters.

Oh no. Q spun, getting in front of James and Alec and put his hands on their chests. As he’d intended, they stopped in their tracks, focused on him. “No guns, you won’t need them. Just wait.” He held their eyes until they nodded, then he turned around. He smiled when he felt them take up protective positions just behind his shoulders. “Uncle Fester, you can’t shoot them in the back. They’re facing you.”

“Out of the way, Ambrose!” Fester hollered. “Morticia, make ‘em turn around So I can shoot ’em in the back!”

Gomez went over to Fester, taking his cigar out of his mouth and leaning close. “Not now, old man. We need to wait until they least expect it.”

“Uncle Fester! Gomez!” Morticia exclaimed, eyes wide with alarm. “Stop this foolishness at once. Cousin Ambrose doesn’t wish to wed.”

“Oh.” Fester looked dejected for a moment, but then brightened. Smiling hopefully, he asked, “Do you want to see what I can do with a light bulb?”

Gomez grinned, gesturing with the cigar in his hand. “Uncle Fester is very enlightening.”

Fester stuck a light bulb in his mouth, grinning as it immediately lit with a bright glow.

“He can make it blink, too,” Gomez said, looking pleased with himself as Fester caused the bulb to blink in response.

Q felt Morticia regarding him while everyone else’s attention was on Fester and the light bulb. He turned to meet her eyes and saw them flicker briefly to her side. He inclined his chin slightly in response, then glanced at James and Alec. They were still focused on Fester and Gomez, so he took the opportunity to slip back to speak with Morticia.

“They’re adjusting quite well, Ambrose.”

“Yes, they are.” He watched them watching Fester, fully aware his smile softened as he did. “I thought they would, and yet… I still find myself surprised.”

“You’re fortunate to have found them. Not everyone has what it takes to be an Addams.” 

Q nodded, knowing that was a reference to the last time he had brought a boyfriend home to meet the family. That visit hadn’t gone at all well.

She slanted a knowing glance at him. “They probably need a break, to give them time to absorb what they’ve seen. I’ll shoo Gomez and Fester off to the playroom while I spend some time in the conservatory. That will give you three some time alone.”

“Thank you, Morticia,” Q said, relieved. He had been worrying that James and Alec might be getting a bit overwhelmed, but he hadn’t known how to address it. Morticia had always been much better than him when it came to reading people.

“Dear Uncle Fester, your electrifying personality is a delight to behold,” Morticia said, sweeping grandly past Q. “Gomez, darling, why don’t you take Fester to the playroom? He’s looking a bit tense.”

“Oh, that’s a swell idea, Morticia,” Fester grinned. “I could use some time on the rack.”

Q could see the question brewing on James’ face, so he drew both of his lovers aside to give Morticia time to get Gomez and Fester out of the way.

“Cara mia, so concerned about the welfare of others!” Gomez took Morticia’s hand and pressed a kiss to its back. “Will you be joining us?”

“No, darling. I need to feed Cleopatra. I’ll be along later.”

Gomez looked disappointed for a moment, but then brightened. “Later it is! Fester, to the playroom!”

Morticia watched them with an indulgent smile as they left the room, then turned to Q where he stood with James and Alec. “Gentlemen, please relax and enjoy yourselves. Our home is your home. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to Cleopatra.”

Just as Morticia left the room, Wednesday and Pugsley came down the stairs.

“Hello, children,” Q said, grinning when he saw their toys. Pugsley carried a box of dynamite almost as big as he was, while Wednesday held one of her headless dolls.

The two stopped at the foot of the stairs and chorused, “Hello, Cousin Ambrose.” 

Q went over to them, beckoning to his lovers. “James, Alec, you met Wednesday earlier, but you weren’t formally introduced. These are my cousins, Wednesday and Puglsey.”

James exchanged a mischievous glance with Alec, and they chroused, “Hello, Wednesday and Pugsley.”

The children looked at each other as though they had the same thought — Adults are so strange.

Alec focused on the box Pugsley carried with laser-eyed intensity. “Planning on blowing something up, Pugsley?”

Pugsley beamed. “Yes, sir. We’re going to blow up the train tracks behind the cemetery.”

Alec’s eyes slid to Q, noted Q’s lack of concern, and nodded to the boy. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be, sir!”

James, meanwhile, had been studying Wednesday. “And who do you have there?”

“This is my doll, Marie Antoinette.” Wednesday smiled sweetly. “We’re going to tie her to the tracks before we blow them up.”

Q could tell James was weighing asking the girl why the doll was headless, and intervened. “Run along, now, you two. Have fun.”

“Yippee!” Pugsley turned to his sister. “Let’s get going.”

Wednesday looked a little disappointed at not telling James all about the guillotine, but acquiesced with good grace. “All right.”

The two children trooped out of the room, heading for the tracks.

“Q?” James asked, tilting his head in the direction of the departing children. “Should we be worried?”

“They’ll be fine.” Part of Q wanted to go with Wednesday and Pugsley. He was an Addams, after all, and enjoyed blowing things up as much as they did. James and Alec had no idea that he understood just how much fun it could be. Perhaps it would be a good idea to let them play with the children… Then Q envisioned the chaos that would follow and shuddered as common sense reasserted itself. It really wouldn’t do to let James and Alec get Addams-comfortable with explosives. They’d be more prone to leaving holes in the landscape while on missions than they already were. 

“James, look at this, ” Alec said, pointing to Thing’s box on the side table. “It’s like the box Q gave you.”

Q froze, his mind going blank. How was he going to explain Thing?

“So it is.” James looked at him. “Q?”

Hopefully they’d take meeting Thing with the same equanimity they’d shown about everything else. “It’s the same sort of box, yes. Thing, could you come out, please?”

The box creaked open and Thing’s disembodied arm emerged. 

“James, Alec, this is Thing. Thing, these are my boyfriends, James and Alec.”

Thing waved.

“He’s been in the family for years,” Q tried to explain, knowing that really didn’t explain anything.

James and Alec both looked taken aback, but rallied quickly. Alec waved to Thing, and James approached, hand outstretched, as if offering a handshake.

Q watched with a feeling of dread as James shook Thing and let go, retreating to stand next to Alec.

“Well?” Alec asked in a low voice.

James hesitated. “He felt alive. Much warmer than I would have expected.”

Q supposed that was the best he could hope for. Perhaps now would be the best time to introduce his own handservant. “Thing, would you mind sharing your box with Handie?”

Thing tilted a bit, as if considering his request, then shook his hand, ‘No’.

“Would you ask Handie to come meet James and Alec?”

Thing nodded his hand, ‘Yes’, and signaled ‘Wait’.

Thing ducked back into his box, the lid closing behind him. A few minutes later, the box opened again, and a different hand emerged.

Not as obviously masculine as Thing, yet not feminine, either. Handie rose from the box, back of their hand facing the room, ‘accidently’ showing off their distinctive tattoo. Handie was perhaps a trifle vain, Q thought. Stars began between Handie’s thumb and forefinger, trailed down the back of their hand, and then fell to wrap coiling around around their wrist and forearm. Handie twisted a bit, as if puzzled they couldn’t perceive anyone in front of them, then turned and waved.

“Hello, Handie. Allow me to introduce James and Alec. I’ve told you about them before.” Q ignored the sharp glances he got from his lovers and continued the introductions. “This is Handie, a friend of mine. They help me around the flat sometimes.”

“And in Q-Branch?” Alec asked. “I’ve seen a few of those boxes there.”

Q’s brows rose. That was more perceptive of Alec than he’d expected. The boxes… encouraged, people’s eyes to slide over them without noticing them. 

“Boxes?” James looked suspiciously between Q and Alec. “They? Are there more than one?”

“No, not at all. There’s only one Handie, but they are a gender neutral Thing.”

After meeting Thing and Handie, Q led his lovers to the conservatory, where they found Morticia cooing over Cleopatra, her African strangler.

“Would one of you like to feed her? Cleopatra loves meeting people.” 

James traded a glance with Alec and stepped forward. “I’d love to, Morticia.” He took the bowl and fork and speared an unidentifiable chunk of meat. He offered the chunk to the plant, and Cleopatra swallowed it with odd slurping sounds.

“You have such a way with plants, James,” Morticia said, an approving look on her face. “Perhaps you’d like a cutting, so you can have an African strangler of your own.”

James froze, then, with barely a hint of the panic he surely felt, said, “You’re incredibly generous, Morticia, but I am afraid that with our schedules, any plant would pine away due to neglect. Best not to risk it.”

“Yes, good point, “ Morticia nodded. She took the bowl back and fed Cleopatra another chunk of meat. “Here you are, Cleopatra, darling.”

Q took that as a dismissal and took James and Alec to look for Gomez.

 They found Gomez in the train room.

“Ah, Ambrose, gentlemen, come in!” Gomez cried with a grin, waving them in. “You’re just in time.”

Sure enough, two trains sped around the elaborate tracks in opposite directions. It was difficult to tell that they were, in fact — 

“They’re on a collision course?” Alec asked, eyeing the set up with interest.

“Of course! You’ve got good eyes.” Gomez beamed. “Watch this!”

Both James and Alec instantly fixed their attention on the detonator Gomez suddenly pulled out. It was a mark of their forbearance that neither did more than attempt to shield Q with their bodies.

Gomez pushed the plunger down and an explosion rocked the room, with his maniacal laughter ringing in their ears. When the dust cleared, Gomez asked, “Would either of you like a turn?”

Q knew he’d lost them when they both jumped at the chance.

“I need to go talk to Grandmama,” he began, only to be stopped by two pairs of eyes widening. Were they still unsettled about meeting his family?

“You’re leaving us?” Alec asked, taking Q’s hand.

James frowned, sidling close to bump Q’s shoulder with his own. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

Q smiled. “Just for a bit. You’ll have fun with Gomez.”

“Not what I meant, Q.”

Oh. They were worried for him? Q carefully didn’t laugh at them. “I’ll be fine. I know my way around the house.”

Gomez, ever helpful, handed the detonator to James. “Here you go, old man.”

James took it, and Q left the room while they were distracted. Another explosion rocked the area as he got to the hallway, and he smiled. James and Alec would be fine. Now where would Grandmama be? He needed to make sure dinner would be, erm, safe for for his lovers.

Fortunately Grandmama had understood his concern, and hadn’t been offended. If she had — Q shuddered to think of it.

Deciding that James and Alec would be occupied blowing up trains for a while, Q headed to the playroom. If Fester was still using the rack, there was a relaxing bed of nails for him to stretch out on. 

On the way to the playroom, he passed Kitty going the other way, leading Andromache.The little cub brushed up against him with a purr before hurrying after the adult lion. Q swallowed against a sudden rush of feeling. Alec wasn’t the only one who would miss her.

He entered the playroom, and there was Fester — lying on the bed of nails. Excellent. Rather than disturb his uncle, Q pulled the noose-shaped bell rope. The resulting gong shook the room, causing a bit of dust to trickle from the ceiling. Fester, undisturbed, snored loudly on the bed of nails.

“You rannnng.” Lurch groaned, appearing abruptly at Q’s shoulder while he looked at Fester.

“Ah, Lurch. Thank you. Could you help me with the rack?”

“Errrrrrr…..” Lurch groaned.

“Q!”

“Are you all right?”

Concerned voices woke him, and there was a fumbling at the wheel and at his wrists, relieving the tension and releasing him from the rack. Damn. James and Alec must have finished blowing up trains and had come looking for him. Q hadn’t meant to fall asleep but he’d been comfortable. He sat up. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just a bit of relaxing.”

“Relaxing?” James said, astonishment barely edging out the fury in his voice. “Q, that’s a rack.”

“I know exactly what it is —”

“Who did that to you? Was it Fester?” Alec’s low growl interrupted him.

“Oh, love, no,” Q hopped off the rack and allowed himself to be drawn into a three way hug with his lovers. Why was Alec blaming Uncle Fester? “You needn’t worry. It’s really fine.”

“Are you sure? Fester was the one to tell us where to find you. If we’d known what he had done to you…” James trailed off and his arms around Q tightened.

Q sighed and wriggled a bit to get some room. Being hugged by his two taller lovers was an enjoyable experience, but it could be a little confining. He patted Alec’s back and James’ shoulder — all he could manage to reach — and said, “Enough. I said I’m fine. I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself if I need to, and I didn’t need to. I’m with family, here. I’d like to think that you are, too?”

Two sets of arms released him slowly and reluctantly. Neither James nor Alec would quite look him in the face. Q took that to mean they felt a bit embarrassed about overreacting. Good. He loved them, and sometimes overreacting around an Addams could lead to… misunderstandings.

Lurch lumbered into the room and groaned, “Dinnerrrrrrrr.”

“Excellent. I’m starving.” Q started out of the room, then looked back at James and Alec. “Are you coming?”

Q endured being fussed over by his lovers as they walked to the dining room with as much good grace as he could muster. James and Alec were still a bit off-balance after finding him on the rack. He couldn’t really blame them. In their line of work, it was a torture device rather than a nice home relaxation unit.

When they got to the dining room, Q led James and Alec to the opposite side of the table where Fester sat. Just in case.

Fortunately, dinner turned out to be a pleasant affair. True to her word, Grandmama had been careful to prepare foods that wouldn’t outright kill non-Addamses. That didn’t mean that she had prepared food that might be found an an average family’s dinner table, however.

Q eyed James and Alec uncertainly when Grandmama Addams announced the meal she had prepared, but really — yak wasn’t the worst thing either of them had eaten. He was glad to see his lovers eating the meal with evidence of enjoyment. A noise at the far doorway drew his attention and he looked up.

Kitty ambled through the room, Andromache following close behind — until she spotted Alec. With her baby raowr, she ran over to him to be picked up. The cub settled down happily on his lap. Kitty stopped and decided to wait for the new cub. The lion flopped over on his side, incidentally blocking the door, and casually licked a paw.

A lion at dinner was hardly usual, even in the Addams household, and Q was glad that no one gave any sign that it was out of the ordinary. He wasn’t too surprised, though. He’d been present when there had been much more unusual guests at family dinners.

James and Alec ate everything they’d been given, although from time to time Alec snuck particularly tempting pieces of yak to their cub. 

“Is Andromache enjoying your meal?” Morticia asked, smiling fondly at Alec.

Alec blushed and ducked his head. “It’s delicious.”

“Are those elderberries in the stew?” James asked politely, in a transparent attempt to divert attention from Alec.

“Yes, they are,” Grandmama said proudly.

Alec blinked at the stew, then frowned and leaned towards James to ask, “Aren’t those poisonous?” He didn’t seem too concerned, though — he stuffed another piece of the stew into his mouth.

“Not at all,” James answered, one eye on Grandmama, who had turned a gimlet-eyed glare at Alec. “They only have a bit of cyanide in them. Besides, these are cooked.”

Alec just nodded and took another bite of stew.

James looked towards Grandmama. “My compliments to the chef. Did you grow them yourself?”

Grandmama looked pleased. “Morticia grows them in the conservatory, along with some hemlock and nightshade.”

James grinned, and he and Grandmama talked about various poisonous plants and how to use them. Morticia added a well-timed comment or two, with Wednesday and Pugsley listening raptly.

Q was pleased that dinner was going so well. His last boyfriend had fled well before being exposed to an Adams-style meal.

Andromache was done with the stew and started in on gnawing at Alec’s fingers. A box on the table opened and Handie emerged with a chew toy for her. Alec took the toy and offered it to the cub. “Thank you, Handie.”

When everyone was done eating, Gomez pushed back from the table. “Excellent dinner, Mama. Gentleman, how about a bit of target practice?”

Both James and Alec perked up at that. James asked, “What did you have in mind?”

“Knives of course.”

James groaned dramatically, while Alec beamed, pumping the air with a, “Yes!” 

Q snickered at their antics, and explained to his curious family, “Alec is much better than James with knives.”

That night, after a relaxing evening with their hosts, they went up to their bedroom. Alec had tied with Gomez — throwing knives at a target held by Lurch had thrown him off a bit, that’s all. He stripped, dropping his jeans and t-shirt to the floor, and threw himself onto the bed, noting the mattress was hard, but not too bad. James rolled his eyes and picked up the clothes, as Alec had known he would. He smiled cheekily, watching as James and Q undressed.

The Addamses were… different, but in a good way, he thought. Gomez and Morticia had a strong, loving relationship, one that could be all too rare. As for the children, Wednesday and Pugsley were adored and cosseted by their parents, yet weren’t spoiled. Alec sighed wistfully. It would be just the place for Andromache. No matter how much he wished he could keep her, a flat in London was no place for a lion. His cub needed the room to grow. In time, she would get used to being in a new place, and he would get used to missing her.

“Thinking about Andromache?” Q asked sympathetically, getting into bed beside him.

“Yeah.” No sense lying about it. Both his lovers knew him well, after all.

“She’ll be fine,” James said, reassuring, as he got into bed on Alec’s other side.

Alec wasn’t sure which of the two of them his lover was reassuring. James was going to miss Andromache as much as he was. “I know.”

“I think you both need a distraction,” Q said, shooting a wicked glance at both of them. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“Something Morticia said at dinner,” Q said, pulling a set of knives from somewhere. “And Gomez let me borrow a set of knives.”

Well now. That certainly would be a nice distraction. Alec met James’ eyes, and smiled wolfishly. “I can’t wait.”

They stayed with the Addamses a few more days, just to be sure that Andromache was settling in nicely. The morning they were scheduled to leave the Addams home dawned overcast and gloomy — just right for the Addamses.

James had to admit the weather fit his own mood. Beside him, looking just as glum, Alec dropped clothes into his bag. James winced, but knew better than to say anything. Alec was probably looking for a fight. The release would break the tension he could feel looming over all three of them.

Not one of them really wanted to leave their cub behind, despite knowing it was the right thing to do. He smiled, lopsided, at the thought of the havok a lion cub could cause in a London flat — or at MI6.

“What’s so funny?” Alec challenged, still spoiling for a fight.

“Andromache growing up in Q-branch.”

“Oh.” Alec’s gaze turned inward, and James was pleased to see that his shoulders lost some of their tension. Alec grinned at him slyly. “That would be a sight.”

“No terrifying my techs,” Q said severely, but then his eyes lit with mischief. “Although, yes, I agree — that could be fun.”

They shared a moment of appreciation of the potential for mayhem.

“But, as the only adult in the room,” Q winked at them, “It’s better for Andromache to stay here. She’ll have room to grow, and she’ll be loved.”

Alec heaved a heavy sigh. “I know, it’s just…”

Something twisted in James’ chest. He stood and pulled Alec into an embrace. “We’ll all miss her.”

“Yes,” Q said, coming over to join their hug. “We will.”

Chapter Text

A month after leaving Andromache with the Addamses, James crashed through the jungle, arms raised to protect himself from the low branches whipping past his face. He ducked one particularly thick branch, but it put him off his stride and he stumbled to a stop. He braced himself against a convenient tree, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He looked towards his backtrail. He couldn’t tell if his pursuers were still after him…  Fuck. He pushed himself off the tree and took off. 

He had lost track of how long he’d been at it when running suddenly got easier. One more lunge took him through the last of the undergrowth and he found himself abruptly in a large clearing. He stopped short, staring in astonishment at the plane waiting there.

He knew that plane. If he was right, it was his ticket out of danger.

He shaded his eyes against the merciless sun beating down on his head as he scanned the open space between him and the plane. Nothing. Up in the plane’s cockpit, a shadow waved at him. He waved back in acknowledgement and hurled himself across the clearing. 

The ground seemed to reflect the heat of the sun at him in punishment for his pounding feet, and the dark of the rattletrap plane’s cargo hold was a welcome relief. Too hot still, but at least he was out of the direct sunlight. Someone — Cousin Wilbur? Cousin Orville? He still hadn’t actually met them — slammed the cargo hatch shut. James scrambled backwards, deeper into the hold and behind a crate. 

Moments later the engine roared to life, the vibration rattling through him with enough force to make his teeth clack together. James pulled up part of the cargo net and strapped himself into place. It was going to be a bumpy ride.

Alec leaned forward on the couch as soon as the office door closed behind the guards and flexed his wrists. There was no give in the rope that bound his hands behind his back. He swore and stood awkwardly, still working the ropes, to check his surroundings. He could almost feel the weight of the mountain above the office. Both the walls and ceiling were bare rock, but the floor was carpeted. He stamped a foot experimentally. The carpet was probably laid over a foam pad directly over the cave’s natural floor. He went to the office door and inspected the jamb. It had been set into the opening using concrete. No luck there.

As for the rest of the office, there was the couch, an empty shelving unit, and a heavy desk and chair. He went closer to check it out. A desk lamp sat next to a blotter, and there was a humidor on one corner. Dismissing them for now, he turned and crouched awkwardly, back to the desk, and checked the drawers. Damn. All locked. Nothing that could help him cut the ropes. He eyed the humidor again. If he got out of there, he could take the cigars to Cousin Gomez. 

He looked at the rough walls again. Maybe there was a place that was sharp enough to cut through the ropes?

Alec went over every inch of the walls that he could reach. Nothing. He glared at the door. All he could do now was wait for his captors to come back. 

An eerily familiar creak came from behind him. He spun, his eyes falling on the humidor on the desk, and stared as a familiar hand rose from the depths of the box. “Handie?” Alec couldn’t believe his eyes, but there was the distinctive tattoo — a trail of stars starting at the base of their thumb, winding down and around Handie’s arm. It was impossible for his handy friend to be there, but… with the Addams family, the impossible seldom was.

Handie beckoned him closer.

“Do you have anything to cut these ropes?” He wasn’t holding out any hope, but to his surprise, Handie signed ‘yes’, and ‘wait.’

Handie disappeared back into the humidor, and a moment later, the tip of a large knife appeared, rising out of the box. As it emerged, Alec could see Handie holding the hilt. He hesitated. Did he trust Handie enough? He shook his head, irritated with himself and turned around. 

Handie was still sawing at the rope when Alec heard footsteps approaching the office door. “Hurry,” he hissed.

The last strands of the rope were holding, but Alec tensed his muscles and pulled, breaking the last strands of the rope. He dove to pick the scraps off the floor, barely aware of the humidor’s creak as Handie got away. By the time the door opened, Alec was sitting on the couch, his hands once more behind his back. He affected a relaxed smirk when his target entered alone, leaving the guards outside.

Harry Nolan sneered at him. “Here we have the feared MI6 spy. Not so fearsome now, are you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d fear me, if I were you.” Alec smiled pleasantly at his prey. “When I leave here, you’ll be dead.”

Nolan snorted and reached for the humidor. “I think you have that backwards. Look at you, you’re my prisoner. You’re the one who will be leaving here dead.”

Alec tensed, his eyes locked on the box. What would Nolan find when he opened the humidor? But he simply withdrew a cigar and held it under his nose, savouring the aroma.

What the hell? Alec gave his head an irritated shake. He had no time for that. He was alone with his target, but who knew when a guard might enter? He needed to make the most of this opportunity. He gathered himself and launched off the couch and across the room, tackling Nolan to the floor. 

Nolan fought back surprisingly hard, giving Alec a few rough moments, but there weren’t many that could match a Double O’s training. Alec got him with a right cross to the chin, knocking his opponent unconscious. Alec rolled off and went through Nolan’s pockets.

Yes! The thumb drive! Now he could get out of there and back to Q and James. He stood, intending to go to the door, but he hesitated and looked back at the humidor. If he opened the lid, what would he find?

The decision was taken out of his hands. The humidor lid creaked open, and a handful of cigars emerged.

“Thank you, Handie,” Alec said, taking the cigars. “Cousin Gomez will enjoy these. Now get out of here, I’ve already rigged the place to blow.”

Handie gave him a thumbs up, then vanished into the humidor, pulling the lid closed behind themself.

Alec shook his head, amused, then headed for the door. Time to head home to his lovers, take two. 

Q hummed with satisfaction. He was curled into Alec’s sleeping warmth, with James spooned up behind him. He loved having them home. Knowing they were safe. 

There had been times during their latest missions where both men had lost contact with MI6, and Q had feared the worst. But he needn't have worried. His family had rallied around James and Alec, making sure that both of them had been able to get home to him. 

Uncle Fester had been wrong. The three of them didn’t need wedding vows. As Morticia had acknowledged, they were already family.