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Chapter Text

Q leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back until he heard the satisfying crack. Only then did he relax and absently reach out for the nearest mug. He lifted it to his lips and sipped, making a face when he realized that the tea inside said mug had gone cold. He sighed, set the mug aside, and did one last scan of the various programs running on his computer screens. It looked like all was momentarily well with the world, so he could step away for a moment. He alerted a minion to keep watch and then stood.

The room swayed a bit - or rather, Q was the one who swayed. He stuck an arm out and steadied himself against the wall. Going for so long without sleep meant going directly against the agreement he had worked out with M, but Q hadn't had much choice. When you held a vital job, there were certain times when you had to make a sacrifice for the good of MI6 and no one understood that better than M.

His night had begun when 007 got himself into trouble in Russia. After listening to a honeypot mission gone wrong, Q had been forced to hack into and then guide 007 out of a heavily booby-trapped mansion. No sooner had he got 007 on a plane home than 009 had been patched through to Q with the news that they were in the middle of a high speed car chase. Q had hacked into a city mainframe to manipulate traffic lights and find 009 the safest, quickest route out of Paris.

He had hung up from 009 just in time to have 002 strut in, freshly returned from what had turned into a four month long mission. It was Q’s responsibility to collect her weaponry and other gadgets, as well as oversee the handling of any technology she brought back with her. Then he’d had to assign two of his best minions to cracking the files on a USB drive that 002 had handed in.

All that to say, sleep had been the very last thing on Q’s mind and he rather thought M would feel the same way. Besides, things had quieted down enough that he felt comfortable leaving after one last mug of tea. So he shook off the dizziness and made his way out of his office, casting an experienced eye over his domain. It was late enough that some of the desks were empty, but Q-branch, like much of MI6, ran on a twenty-four hour rotation, so there were bowed heads all over the room.

Q drifted past, glancing around quickly to see what each person was doing. All of them were hard at work, either hacking, coding, working on new weapons, or speaking to field agents whose issues were too serious for tech support to handle. Once he was convinced no one needed him, he made his way towards the front of the room where R was seated at her desk. She had her head propped up with one hand and was squinting at her screen.

"All good, R?" he asked quietly, pausing before her desk.

"What?" R tipped her head back, blinking owlishly behind her stylish frames. "Q? You're still here?"

"I was debriefing 002," Q said.

"That was three hours ago," said R, opening her up desk drawer. She removed a biscuit and bit into it with a noisy crunch.

"Really?" Q said, astonished. He glanced at the clock on her screen and realized that it was almost one in the morning. For a moment, he was shocked that Alec hadn't been by to drag Q home – and then he remembered that Alec had left for a short mission just this morning.

It occurred to him then that this was the first day that Q hadn't had a visit from either James or Alec since their relationship began two and a half months ago, and he'd been too busy to both nap and to feed himself. Somehow, he suspected that neither of his caregivers would buy his line about priorities. He was certainly setting himself up for a great track record at this rate.

"Yes, really," R said, frowning at him. "Honestly."

The admonition in her voice made Q bristle, even though he tried hard not to take it personally. R was a neutral, but she was also an older woman who had taken it upon herself to mother several of the younger Q-branch minions. Because she did it to everyone, he usually just bore it with a patient smile or slipped away as soon as he could. Tonight, though, he was tired enough to feel prickly.

At first he hadn’t liked her behaviour because he'd been worried she had figured out he was a Little, but that seemed unlikely considering that R didn’t limit said behaviour to him. Then it was just a natural defence against being cared for at work, where he couldn’t afford to slip up. And now it was because too much of it felt like an infringement to what he had with Alec and James.

Q drew himself up, but answered politely. "007 should be getting in shortly. I'll stay long enough to receive his kit and then I'll head home. I'm going to grab another mug of tea. Would you care for one?"

"That would be lovely," R said with a sunny smile, which immediately had the effect of making Q feel slightly ashamed for his reaction. He awkwardly smiled back and hurriedly shuffled out of the room to their small kitchen.

He put their encounter out of his mind as he poured water into the kettle and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his mobile out and checked his messages. Alec had sent him a couple of texts. His mission was supposed to be a short one, escorting a member of the royal family abroad to meet up with their party. According to his last text, he was on his way back to London. Q gave a pleased hum at that. It was always nice when Alec and James went on missions that didn't end in explosions or a gun fight. It happened so rarely that Q had learned to savour those moments.

James hadn’t texted, but that didn’t mean much. A quick glance at his itinerary told Q that James’s flight had landed about forty-five minutes ago, which meant that James was either on his way to MI6 or had already entered the building and had been caught by medical or M. Q could’ve taken a quick look at MI6’s logs to see whether James was here, but he refrained.

Instead, he finished up with his tea, added milk to R’s the way she liked it, and headed back. His stomach fluttered pleasantly when he entered the room and was immediately drawn to the familiar figure standing at R’s desk. James looked good, dressed in a bespoke blue suit that drew attention to his blue eyes. There was a small bandage on his right cheek, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.

“Ah, here he is,” R said as Q approached.

“Q,” James said warmly, reaching out to him. He slid an arm around Q’s shoulders and pressed a lingering kiss to Q’s cheek. He and Alec got a kick out of the fact that all of MI6 thought the three of them were dating. None of them had confirmed nor denied the rumours, and the gossip mill only churned that much faster with every display of physical affection.

“You’re alive. That’s good,” Q said, forbidding his body from sinking into James’s warmth the way he desperately wanted to. The thought of laying his head on James’s shoulder and letting James carry him home was immensely appealing.

“Takes more than a close brush with a knife to kill me,” James said with a smirk. “I’ll trade you.” He nodded at Q’s mug and held up his gun.

“You brought your gun back?!” Q gasped with shock. Even the knowledge that James was just trying to control his caffeine intake couldn’t sour the moment. He gladly gave up his mug and clutched the gun to his chest when it was handed over.

“I almost threw it at someone’s head,” said James. “But then I remembered you threatened to throw the next one at my head if I didn’t bring it back, and I know how you get when you’re in a mood.” He had the gall to grin at Q, who narrowed his eyes.

“It wasn’t a threat. That was a promise,” Q replied. He was bloody sick of 00-agents treating weapons like disposable coffee cups. None of them had any appreciation for the fact that Q-branch’s budget was the highest out of all the MI6 departments, and it was purely because they had to replace so much equipment.

James just smiled. “I’m sure it was. Now go log the fact that I’ve been a good boy, and we’ll head home. I’m starving and I could sleep for a week.” He yawned just for show, and R immediately perked up.

“Oh, I’ve got biscuits,” she volunteered, pulling a package out of her drawer. “Help yourself.”

Q rolled his eyes and left James nibbling at R’s biscuits and returned to his office. He quickly logged James’s gun and locked it up, then picked up his coat and slid it on. Two and a half months ago, he probably would’ve made do with a quick kip on the floor of his office. The thought of going back to a cold, empty flat wouldn’t have been interesting at all. But the thought of going home with James was so appealing that Q was practically vibrating.

He returned to find R’s package of biscuits sufficiently lighter, and quickly hustled James out before the 00-agent’s big blue eyes and woe-is-me expression had the other denizens of Q-branch offering up snacks. They walked out together, were waved through security, and headed up to the parking garage. As they went, Q noticed James scratching rather obsessively at his neck.

“Something wrong?” he inquired.

“Just itchy. I need a shower,” James said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Q said non-committedly. It wasn’t a lie exactly, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. He was more tired than anything, and very much looking forward to bed.

James didn’t look convinced, but all he said was, “Is Alec due back by morning?”

“Supposed to be. But this is Alec we’re talking about. I would not be surprised in the slightest if I got a text saying that the airplane he was supposed to be on mysteriously exploded,” Q said dryly. As they pulled out of the parking garage, he quickly checked his mobile just to be sure that hadn’t happened. But there was nothing yet, and when you lived with two 00-agents no news usually was good news.

When they got to their flat, James disappeared to take a shower while Q fed his cats. Then he stumbled into the bedroom and sank down onto the bed, rubbing at his face with a weary sigh. When he was feeling really little, he usually slept in either the crib in the nursery or in the bassinet. On other nights, he shared the custom-made bed with Alec and James. They loved having him sleep right in the middle of them, where they could be sure that he was safe.

Tonight was definitely a bed-sharing night, he decided, and stripped down to just an undershirt and a nappy. He crawled beneath the covers and set his glasses on Alec’s nightstand, then sank down into the pillows. James joined him several minutes later, still damp and smelling of Alec’s shampoo and the soap he favoured. Q sniffed and smiled to himself.

“Pa - Alec hates when you borrow his shampoo,” he mumbled with a yawn, quickly correcting himself. The urge to call Alec ‘Papa’ and James ‘Daddy’ grew stronger by the day, but he wasn’t sure they were all there yet. And he was too shy to ask.

“He’ll get over it,” James said. He was naked, which was unusual. Both the 00-agents in Q’s life usually slept in boxers. He was also throwing off heat like crazy.

“Are you sick?” Q asked, griping around for James’s arm.

“No. Just took a warmer shower than usual.” James shifted and then slid an arm under Q’s shoulders, gathering him close. “Go to sleep, Darling.”

“Okay,” Q sighed. He drifted off quickly, unaware that in a few short hours his peaceful life was going to fall apart.

Chapter Text

Q was in the middle of a nightmare – for him, anyway. Some people would’ve considered a dream about laying on the Caribbean sand to be very nice indeed, but Q sunburned easily and didn’t like the heat. The ocean wasn’t that far away, but every time he tried to wiggle towards it something held him back. Some invisible force had him pinned around his waist and no matter how much he struggled he couldn’t get free –

And then, suddenly, something grabbed him and lifted him off the sand. He flailed around with an alarmed squeak, realizing that he’d been asleep and then just as quickly realizing that someone had scooped him up off the bed. His immediate thought was that he was being kidnapped again, and he panicked. Whoever was holding him dodged his first two fumbled blows, and then wrapped their arms around him to keep him from lashing out anymore.

“Easy, Kotenok, it’s me,” Alec whispered in his ear, and Q gasped for breath as he went limp. He had no idea why Alec had scared the shit out of him like that, but now that the fear and adrenaline were wearing off he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

“A-Alec? Wh-what –” Q stammered, bewildered, as Alec grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him. Then his glasses were gently set upon his nose, and Alec’s grim face came into view.

“Ssh, come here.” Alec bent and slipped an arm behind Q’s knees, lifting him up and carrying him out of the bedroom. Q had no idea what was going on, but it was only as they moved out of the room that he realized they weren’t alone. Several people in what looked like white Hazmat suits were flooding into the bedroom, and he belatedly saw that James was being loaded onto a gurney.

“What’s going on? Where are they taking Da-”

Alec, mercifully, cut him off before Q could finish his sentence, ducking his head so that his lips were beside Q’s ear and whispering, “James is sick, Q. I tried to wake him up when I got home and he wouldn’t. He’s running a really high fever. I didn’t have a choice but to call MI6. They immediately sent Medical over to get him. They think he might have picked something up on his last mission.”

Q’s mouth hung open uselessly. Alec hustled them into the kitchen, where he sank into a chair and held Q securely in his lap. Q couldn’t have escaped even if he wanted to; he was too securely wrapped up in the blanket. All he could do was sit there and watch, speechless, as Medical swiftly removed James from the flat. Within minutes, it was like they’d never been there at all.

“006. Quartermaster.” Someone approached them. Q wasn’t sure who it was until they removed their mask, and then he saw that it was Grace Wood, the head of Medical for MI6.

“How is he?” Alec asked anxiously.

“We’re placing him into quarantine for the time being,” Wood replied. “I’ll need some follow up details from both of you. The more information we have, the better.”

“I just got here. I don’t know much,” said Alec.

“I – he was fine,” Q said dazedly when Wood looked at him. “He got back late last night. We left work together. He said he was tired, but he took a shower before we went to bed…”

“Did he eat or drink anything?” Wood asked.

“Um… he had some of R’s biscuits… I don’t know if he ate or drank anything when we got home. He might have. I think I remember him saying he was hungry before we left MI6. I don’t know; I was tired, so I went right to bed,” Q said, looking around the kitchen apprehensively. Had he heard the sounds of James in the kitchen? He honestly couldn’t remember.

“We’ll take samples of everything just in case. How about you, Quartermaster? Are you feeling unusual?” Wood’s eyes bored into him, like she could dissect him through sight alone, and Q swallowed hard. He didn’t like the intense scrutiny. It made his skin prickle uncomfortably. Beneath the blanket, he clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palms to distract himself from crying.

“N-not really,” Q whispered. “I feel… I mean, as fine as I can be under the circumstances.”

“Do you think Q will get sick too?” Alec asked, his grip tightening protectively.

“It’s unlikely. Based on 007’s symptoms, I don’t think this is a typical illness. I’m leaning towards poison or a toxin at this point, but it’s too soon to know anything for sure. We’d like both of you to come along to MI6 so that we can examine you, just to be sure, but if the quartermaster was going to get sick he would most likely already be showing similar symptoms,” said Wood.

“Sure,” Alec said, which brought home the gravity of the situation to Q more than anything else. Like every agent at MI6 worth their salt, Alec loathed Medical and usually did whatever he possibly could to avoid them. The fact that he was willingly agreeing to submit to an examination told Q exactly how serious this was. His breath caught, a sob lodging in his throat.

“There will be a car downstairs waiting for you. Please don’t wait too long,” Wood said.

“Can we go back in the bedroom?” Alec asked.

Wood turned her head and spoke to someone behind her, then turned to them and shook her head. “We’d prefer you didn’t. We can get you whatever you need, within reason.”

“No, it’s fine. Carry on.” Alec got up. Q’s legs were too weak to support him, so Alec scooped him up again and carried him right past Wood and the other suits swarming the living room. The only closed door in the flat was that of Q’s nursery. Alec none too gently kicked the door open, then slammed it shut behind them. The sudden silence pressed down on Q’s ears, and this time he couldn’t stop the quiet sob that escaped him.

“Oh, Q. Don’t cry,” Alec said, suddenly sounding ragged. He set Q down and hugged him tightly, letting Q bury his face in Alec’s throat.

“I want James,” Q sobbed.

“I know you do. I know,” Alec murmured. “This has been scary, hasn’t it? I’m sorry. I should’ve got you out of the way sooner. I wasn’t thinking.”

Q wanted to tell him that it was okay, but he couldn’t make the words come. He squeezed his eyes shut and cried himself out against Alec’s shoulder, until he was so exhausted that all he could do was stand there and lean against Alec. His head was spinning with everything that had happened in such a short span of time when he really just felt too little to understand anything at all.

“Q, can you hear me?” Alec asked.

“Mhm,” Q managed to mumble.

“Good. That’s good. I’m going to get you changed, and then we’ll put on some of your big boy clothes. We’ve got to go into Medical whether we like it or not.” Alec sighed. “I know how little you feel right now, and I really hate to ask this of you, but you’ve got to pull yourself together. You can be quiet and not speak, but…” He trailed off, but Q heard what he wasn’t saying. If Q cried and carried on and acted babyish in front of everyone, his secret would be out in a matter of minutes.

“I’ll be okay,” Q said, or thought he said. He wasn’t too sure of anything right now.

But it seemed to get through to Alec, who peeled the blanket away from Q and set it aside. Q stood passively and allowed Alec to guide him around. In retrospect, he was relieved that Alec had had the forethought to put the blanket around him before anyone from Medical saw him. They surely would’ve wondered why their quartermaster was wearing a nappy to bed. As the head of Medical, it was possible, even likely, that Wood knew of Q’s status as a Little, but no one else would’ve – M had promised to keep the information as locked down as possible.

“James is strong. He’s been poisoned before. He’s going to come through just like he has every other time,” Alec said quietly. It was hard to tell who he was trying to convince, himself or Q. “Wood’ll get him all fixed up. Then you can track down who did it, and I’ll get revenge.” He cupped Q’s tear-stained face, thumbs wiping a few tears away.

Q tried to smile. “He’d hate that. He’d want revenge himself.”

“You can record it and show it to him. Perhaps it’ll keep him from driving all those nurses crazy,” Alec said. He straightened Q’s glasses. “We can’t get into the bedroom. James and I stored some of our stuff in the closet when you moved in. Do you mind wearing our stuff for now?”

Silently, Q shook his head.

“Okay. Lay back and let me change you, and then we can go,” Alec said. He sounded strained, and his mind was clearly elsewhere, but his fingers were gentle as he set about changing the wet nappy. Q didn’t even remember losing control of his bladder; he supposed it had probably happened when Alec grabbed him off the bed.

When he was dry, Alec gave him a pair of jogging bottoms and a jumper to pull on. Both were soft and worn with age, though much too large. Q didn’t mind. Alec pulled and tried the drawstring tightly to keep the bottoms from sliding off, then wrapped an arm around Q’s shoulders. Q cuddled into him, immediately missing James’s presence on his right side.

Only two people from Medical were left in the flat when they emerged, and neither of them paid Q or Alec any attention. Q ducked into the loo and quickly washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t like how young and scared he looked. It didn’t befit MI6’s Quartermaster at all. He ran damp fingers through his hair to help with the bedhead, and then cleaned his glasses. His hands were shaking.

“Q?” Alec called through the door.

Q opened it and found Alec standing there holding Q’s trainers. As Q pulled them on, he glanced up at Alec. Like any other 00-agent, Alec was very good at hiding what he was feeling behind a blank face. But Q had spent enough time with both 006 and 007 to be able to figure out when they were struggling. Alec’s usually bright green eyes looked flat and dull, and his jaw was visibly clenched. He was more worried than he was making himself out to be, all for Q’s benefit.

“I’m ready,” Q said softly, and Alec nodded distractedly as he fished his keys out of his pocket.

They left the flat together and went down to where James’s car was parked. Normally James would’ve had a fit about Alec driving it, but of course James wasn’t there to say a word about it. As he fastened his seatbelt, Q caught himself sucking his thumb. He immediately pulled his hands away from his mouth and clenched them tightly in his lap. He was going to have to watch himself closely for the next little while, even more closely than usual.

The drive to MI6 was spent in silence. Even security didn’t greet them like they usually did; the guard silently waved them through without even asking for identification. Q’s stomach churned as they drew nearer to Medical. He didn’t like doctors, and normally did what he could to avoid them. Not only was he perpetually concerned that a doctor would figure him out, he had a deep and abiding hatred of needles.

His heart stuttered when he walked through the door and saw that half the room had been partitioned off. James, he knew without being told, was behind that wall. Wood came to greet them and showed them to a different area. Q bit his lip when Alec was led away from him, leaving him alone with Wood. She walked into an office and he followed, only for her to shut the door and turn to him.

“I’ll be doing your examination personally,” she said briskly. “I’m aware of your status, but I know M has asked that it be kept quiet for security reasons.”

Q nodded. He had to be brave. He had to be big. He forced a smile, wishing that Alec or especially James were here, and said, “Okay, go ahead.”

Chapter Text

"How are you doing, Quartermaster?"

"I'm well, thank you." The automatic response came to Q's lips easily. He'd spouted it off so many times in the past eight days that he could've said it in his sleep. He smiled blankly at the agent who had asked. Their name escaped him at the moment, as did the particulars of their file, so, after an awkward pause during which the agent didn't say anything else, Q nodded politely and moved on.

He shuffled back into Q-branch and shut the door behind him, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. He stood there for a moment, staring down into the mug of tea in his hands. He wouldn't really drink it, he knew, yet it was so ingrained in his habit to go get a cup of tea around 3pm that he did it automatically. He'd been in the kitchen going through the motions before his brain even fully processed that he'd moved away from his computer. And there was no point to stopping midway through, so he'd finished the tea and brought the mug back with him.

Truth be told, he felt uncomfortable eating or drinking anything right now. Five days ago, Medical had confirmed that James Bond had been poisoned. They were working on figuring out what kind of poison it was, but so far all the tests had been inconclusive. They couldn't even say with 100% convinction how it had happened; right now they seemed to be working off the theory that it was something James had consumed, either food or drink - but Q also knew that they hadn't ruled out a contact poison or even something that had been injected.

The lack of answers was frustrating, particularly since James was getting worse by the day. Alec in particular was struggling with it, Q knew. 00-agents weren't used to inactivity. The fact that he couldn't do anything to help James was driving Alec crazy. He'd already gone out three times to speak with MI6 confidential informants, hoping that they might've heard something on the down low that would help. Each time, he'd come back frustrated and in a terrible mood - not that he ever took it out on Q. With Q, he remained kind and gentle. Everyone else, on the other hand, got the full brunt of 006's frustrations.

"Q? Are you okay?" R asked.

Q looked over at her. "What?"

"You're blocking the door," R said, setting a hand on his arm and gently guiding him out of the way. The Q-branch minion standing behind her made a grateful face in R's direction and quickly scuttled out the door.

"Oh," Q said, realizing he'd been standing there thinking for longer than he should've. That was probably a product of not sleeping well; he hadn't gone home since James had been admitted to Medical. Stealing short naps on the sofa in his office, even wrapped up in Alec's arms, just wasn't the same. But he couldn't bring himself to go back to the flat, even if Medical had announced it was perfectly safe.

R peered at him, clearly concerned. "Do you want to sit down? Maybe you should eat something. I still have some biscuits..."

The door opened behind them as they spoke, and then a familiar voice spoke up. "Thank you, R, but that won't be necessary. I have some take away that Q is going to sit and eat with me."

"I am?" Q said, turning around to look at Moneypenny.

She nodded. "Yes, you are. Come on." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him into his office, kicking the door shut behind her. She clicked her tongue when she saw the state of the place, setting her bag down on his desk.

"Sorry. I know it's a mess," Q said.

"Oh, Q. I don't care if it's a mess. I care about how you and 006 have been holding up," she said, looking at him with open concern. "I know how much this must be tearing you up inside."

Her words had a double layer of significance that made Q a little uncomfortable. He was aware that Moneypenny knew of his classification; following his return to MI6 after his kidnapping she'd apologized for snooping in his file, but had made it clear that she wasn't sorry for outing him to 006 and 007 without his permission. Q couldn't bring himself to be angry that she'd done it, considering that it had led to both his rescue and his subsequent moving in with the two agents. But they had never spoken about it beyond that, and he wasn't used to acknowledging it with anyone outside of James and Alec.

"It's been difficult," he said finally.

Moneypenny sighed. "I bet it's more than just difficult. God, if I just knew who'd done this! I would wring their neck for putting you through this." She sat down on the sofa and beckoned him, patting the cushion beside her. "Come eat with me. I watched them make this, so I know for sure it's safe."

"I'm not very hungry," Q said.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked sternly.

Q blinked and thought about it. "Er..."

"That's what I thought. Come here right now."

It was easier to obey than continue to fight her over it, so Q did. Shortly, he found himself with a container of curry and rice on his lap. He lifted the first bite to his lips and realized that it was actually really good. His stomach growled hungrily. He tucked into eating with more enthusiasm, vaguely aware of Moneypenny lifting out her own container of curry. They ate together in silence for several minutes, and it was suprisingly comforting. He hadn't spent much time with anyone but Alec, and, even at his kindest, it was so obvious that Alec was on pins and needles.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Moneypenny asked after a while. "I know what M has heard, and I know what the grapevine is saying, and I’ve read the initial reports, but I'd like to hear your version too."

"There's not much to tell. I've gone over Bond's last mission with a fine tooth comb. I've even had R and a couple other minions look at it." Q sighed and stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. "If it happened on his mission, I'm not sure when."

"Maybe during the honeypot part?" Moneypenny said. She pursed her lips and made a kissing sound, and Q smiled a little.

"Maybe, but James was fine after that. I suppose if it was a slow-acting poison... but it seemed to hit him all at once."

"So maybe something when he got back to London," Moneypenny murmured.

"Could be, but he didn't exactly give me a play-by-play of everything he did from the time he boarded the flight to the time he got back here. I've been into his phone and..." Q hesitated.

Moneypenny straightened up. "I know about the emails from Blofield."

Q froze in the midst of lifting another forkful of curry to his mouth. He supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised by that. Moneypenny knew everything, even things that were largely supposed to be kept secret – like the emails they’d found on James’s mobile. Blofield had been sending James photos of Alec and Q along with very specific threats. James had never said a word about them, but it looked like this had been going on since shortly after Q’s kidnapping.

“How did you find out?” Q asked, turning to look at her.

A shifty expression crossed her face. “I have my sources.”

Which probably meant someone in Q-branch had told her. Q tried not to sigh too loudly. “I’m guessing that this is probably retaliation from Blofield,” he confessed quietly. “Though it seems odd. Blofield was enjoying tormenting James. He made it sound like he was going to attack me or Alec first, not James.”

“That’s the same impression I got,” said Moneypenny. “That’s what led me to believe we have a mole in MI6. Possibly more than one.”

That was the looming thought that no one wanted to acknowledge too closely. That was problem when you worked with people rather than machines, Q thought. Machines couldn’t be swayed by money or logic or threats. The human element was often what made an organization like MI6 vulnerable. It also meant that Q might have been working alongside whoever had poisoned Bond. He could’ve even talked to them.

“It could be,” he acknowledged. “I hope not, but, outside of our flat, MI6 is where James is most relaxed.”

Moneypenny nodded and sighed. “I thought the same thing. I’ve been looking into a few people, but I don’t have anything concrete yet. I know 006 is out searching for the woman Bond hooked up with on his mission. It’s possible she’ll have some answers, but…”

“If she worked for Blofield, she’s most likely dead,” Q said, finishing off her train of thought, and she gave another grim nod. They both knew it was unlikely that Blofield would leave any stones unturned.

“Exactly,” Moneypenny said. She looked around again. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Not really. R’s been helping a lot. She’s really stepped up,” Q said, following Moneypenny’s gaze to his desk. He knew it looked like a tornado, or maybe a hurricane, had whipped through. There were stacks of papers that needed his signature, budget reports, schematics, emails – the list went on. It was in a state of organized chaos at the moment, or at least that’s what Q was telling himself. R had quietly taken on what she could, leaving only the most high level things for Q to look at, and he was grateful for her help.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’ve got help, but if you need anything… and I mean anything,” she said with a meaningful look.

“Thanks,” Q said, not wholly certain what she was trying to imply – but aware enough to know that he wouldn’t be taking her up on it anyway. Q-branch minutiae was usually too narrow in scope for anyone outside their department to easily understand. It could take new hires weeks to figure it all out. Moneypenny was very smart, but most of what Q needed to do would just require too much detailed explanation.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. I’m going to do what I can,” she said, leaning forward to lightly knock their shoulders together. “Make sure you feed yourself, Q. And then you sleep, and – any anything else you need to do to take care of yourself. You’re not helping 007 by falling apart.”

Q flushed at the gentle reprimand and said defensively, “I’m not falling apart.”

“With all due respect, I disagree. MI6 needs its quartermaster now more than ever.” She stood and dumped her container in the bin, then dusted off her dress pants. “Please pass that message along to 006 as well.”

“He won’t listen,” Q said, already knowing that would fall on deaf ears. He wasn’t the sort of man to think highly of himself, but Q knew for a fact that the only thing holding Alec together right now was Q. Alec, like James, took his responsibility towards Q extremely seriously. If he didn’t have Q to worry about, Alec would’ve probably disappeared from MI6 altogether and gone underground in an effort to figure out what was happening.

“I know, but saying it makes me feel better. If you happen to find out anything else, please let me know.” She patted his arm and headed for the door.

Q lifted his head to watch her go, feeling the conversation had been an odd one. It seemed unlikely that she had come here just to sit with him while he ate, but he wasn’t sure what she would’ve learned from the few minutes they’d spent together. He hadn’t told her anything new since she’d already known about the emails from Blofield. Unless there was information she had that she hadn’t shared, which was possible. Moneypenny loved holding her secrets close.

He wondered where Alec was; he hadn’t seen his caregiver since this morning, and probably wouldn’t for a while yet, if Alec was making good progress on finding that woman. He leaned back against the sofa and sighed, sliding fingers beneath his glasses to rub wearily at his eyes. His nappy was wet, and he should really get up and change it. Actually, he should probably shower. Neither thought was appealing.

He dropped his arm against his chest and looked up at the ceiling. “Please be okay, Daddy,” he whispered to himself, blinking rapidly. “Please.”

Chapter Text

Eve slipped out of Q’s office and gently closed the door behind her. She stood there for a moment, outwardly surveying Q-branch but inwardly running over her conversation with Q. If she were a betting woman, Eve would’ve put money down on the fact that Q probably thought that nothing important had happened or been learned during their conversation. He would’ve been wrong.

Most agents at MI6 didn’t think much of Eve Moneypenny. They thought she was nothing more than a secretary: a field agent who’d been forced to retire because she just wasn’t good enough. They thought that M had taken her on because he pitied her. Whether those thoughts were formed out of racism, misogyny or a good old-fashioned mixture of both, the vast majority of people who worked at MI6 didn’t think much of her.

Those people were wrong.

As M’s secretary, Eve was partial to the innermost workings of MI6. She knew more about what went on around here than even M did, because people were usually willing to speak to her in a way they wouldn’t to M. Over the years, Eve had carefully cultivated a number of relationships that had served her very well. She had ears in every branch, eyes around every corner, a brain that could recognize and fit even the smallest of clues together, and a deep-seated stubbornness the likes of which rivaled the great 007 himself. In short, Eve was a force to be reckoned with and she rather enjoyed rubbing that fact in the faces of those too stupid to realize it.

Over the past several days, M had been overseeing the investigation into Bond’s poisoning. But Eve had been doing a little reconnaissance of her own. Whereas MI6 had been targeting its investigation externally, Eve had focused hers inwardly. Bond, like most agents, was more at home inside MI6 than he was out of it. Outside of his flat, MI6 was one of the few places where Bond would’ve relaxed enough to be poisoned.

That was her working theory anyway, and right now Eve’s suspicions were focused around one person in particular. R was Q’s right-hand woman. She was the one who took over when the Quartermaster was otherwise indisposed. It had always been like that, for as long as Eve could remember. In fact, the current R had now served her position for two Quartermasters. Boothroyd had chosen her initially, and Q had seemed to get on with R well enough that he had never looked for anyone else to fill the position.

At the time Eve hadn’t thought much about that decision, but now she wondered if that had been a mistake. Everyone knew R had been gunning for the Quartermaster position, and for good reason: that was how the Quartermaster was traditionally chosen. But then a young hacker had appeared, one who was immediately on MI6’s radars and who Boothroyd had been rather taken with. Before anyone knew it, Boothroyd had name that young hacker as his successor and taken him under his wing.

R hadn’t been happy, Eve remembered, though she’d done well to hide her feelings at the time. Eve only knew what her true reaction had been because of the rumors and gossip that swelled through the halls of MI6 – little stories about comments R had made here and there. That was months ago, though. By all appearances, it seemed like R had settled down and put that behind her to support the new Quartermaster as best she could.

Eve had her doubts. The last known thing that Bond had eaten was some biscuits, conveniently given to him by R. Now, naturally Medical had seized those biscuits and had them tested. And the results had come back with nothing, as expected. As far as anyone else in MI6 was concerned, that meant R was off the hook. Better yet, what a kind saint she was, helping out wherever possible!

Yeah right. Eve had figured out a rough timeline based on what Q had said and what others had told her. There had been plenty of time for R to dispose of the real biscuits she’d given to Bond and bring in a fresh bag that was safe for consumption. Of course nothing would show up when Medical tested the replacement biscuits. R wasn’t that stupid, and she’d been around MI6 for a long time. She would’ve known that her biscuits were going to be tested. If she had played a part in it, she wasn’t going to hand over the very thing that would prove her guilt.

Then there was R’s desire to step up and be helpful. If there were no other evidence, that wouldn’t have been enough to trip Eve’s radar. As it was, Eve couldn’t help wondering if R was trying to seize her chance to further her career in MI6. Targeting Bond was a genius move in that respect, since everyone knew the cover story that Bond, Trevelyan and Q were dating. What they shared was for more than that, and Q was clearly struggling. It wouldn’t take much for R to gently nudge him out of the way.

Q wouldn’t go without a fight even if Bond were to die, of course. But a word here, a whisper there… it was pathetically easy to undermine someone, particularly when the last couple of years had been so rough on everyone and when MI6 had something of a hive mind. It wasn’t hard for Eve to see a future where Q was politely asked to step down and have the older, more seasoned R take his place.

She was determined not to let that happen. MI6 – no, the world needed James Bond, Alec Trevelyan, and Q. Since the three of them functioned best by far as a unit, she was going to do whatever it took to resolve this and make sure that Bond survived. The first step to that was figuring out who was responsible. Let Trevelyan and MI6 chase that honeypot; Eve had a different target entirely.

She had been standing there for long enough that she’d caught attention, as she knew she would. Through her peripheral vision, Eve watched as R stood up from her desk and started walking towards her. The instinct to pull her gun in the presence of a threat was strong, but Eve quelled it with experience and instead maintained her slightly troubled expression.

“Moneypenny, are you alright?” R asked when she was within reach. Luckily, she didn’t touch Eve the way she might have a Q-branch minion. That was smart. Eve might have given into the urge to floor her if she had.

“I’m just worried, that’s all,” Eve said, which was the honest truth, but it was time to pour on the charm. She heaved a great sigh and loudly lamented, “I don’t know what we’re going to do. There’s just so many resources being poured into 007 right now. People forget that MI6 still has to run itself, and that there are other problems in the world.”

“My word,” R said, looking troubled. “Is it really that bad?”

“Well, you know,” Eve said dramatically. “We’re getting by.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “It doesn’t help that Q is struggling so much. I’ve taken on what I can, but it’s not easy. I was really hoping that I wouldn’t have to attend the meeting for the branch heads this afternoon. I just have so much other work piling up… I don’t know how I’m going to get it all done.”

“That sounds terrible. Is there anything I can do to help?” R asked. Either she was innocent, or she was a wonderful actress. Eve pushed aside a small flicker of guilt at what seemed like an honest offer, sternly reminding herself that she met incredible actors and actresses on a daily basis.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Eve said. “I know you’ve been helping to pick up the slack too.”

R shook her head. “Whatever I can do to help, you need only ask.” She affected a casual tone as she added, “I could even go to the meeting in Q’s place if you prefer.”

Bingo, Eve thought with a bitten-back smirk. Instead, she pasted on a grateful smile. “Oh R, would you mind? You don’t need to worry about reporting anything. But if you could go and take notes and maybe offer your opinion here and there… only if you feel comfortable with that, of course.”

“Of course,” R said. Was it Eve’s imagination or was there a new spark in her eyes?

“That would be lovely and such a huge help,” Eve gushed. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem at all. Just email me the details,” R said.

“I will as soon as I get back to my desk,” Eve said. “It’s happening early tomorrow morning and will take up most of the day.”

“No problem,” R said with another wide smile. “Anything else?”

Eve pretended to think, then snapped her fingers. “Oh yes. I’ve been having some difficulties with my email lately. I know that we’re not supposed to use Q-branch as a replacement for ITS, but honestly you lot are so much smarter and better with computers…” She shook her head. “I know you’re far too busy for that, but would you mind sending someone up to help me tomorrow morning?”

“Sure, I can do that.” R’s eyes skated over the room, looking for a suitable minion. Right at that moment, a young man stood up with an empty mug in hand. Completely oblivious, he whistled softly as he walked out the door. R watched him and go and then turned back to Eve with a nod.

“Great,” Eve said, confident that her plans were now falling into place. She gave R one last big, phony smile and then made her way out of the room to send R the promised email.

The next morning, Eve was in at just after 5am – which was early even for her, but most people had been pulling long hours in the wake of what had happened. Having one of MI6’s best 00-agent’s out of commission was just asking for trouble. And arguably, 006 wasn’t prepared for field duty right now either. So they were down two 00-agents and a quartermaster. Whoever had done this had done their job well.

But not well enough. Eve fired up her computer, including her email which functioned perfectly, and took care of some idle work while she waited for 7:30am arrive. The meeting she’d manipulated R into going to typically lasted for the better part of a day, sometimes dragging on well into the evening. R was about to get a taste of the unpleasant part of being a branch head, and it would leave her computer wide open in the meantime.

At a quarter to eight, there was a knock on Eve’s door and the same young man from last night stuck his head in. “Morning, ma’am. I’was asked to come see about your computer?”

“Of course. Come in. Please shut the door behind you,” Eve said, which was a common enough request that it wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. The second the door was shut, she grinned and added, “You really do have a perfect sense of timing, Julian.”

Julian chuckled. “I set up a couple mirrors so I could watch you two talk. I saw the moment she started to look around,” he replied, walking over to her. He had a laptop with it, tucked under one arm. Ostensibly, it was a spare for Eve to use if her computer required more serious maintenance. Unofficially, it was a spare computer that they were going to use to hack R’s computer.

“However you did it, it was excellent,” Eve said. She liked Julian. He was one of her informants, not that she really needed his help too much since she was such good friends with Q – but there were always rumblings that the leaders wouldn’t hear. She liked him well enough that she was seriously considering suggesting to Q that Julian become the new R if Eve’s suspicions were proven correct.

She moved, allowing Julian to sit. This wouldn’t be a short process, she knew. It was going to take some time. But that was okay. If R was really behind this, then Eve was convinced that there was proof somewhere on R’s laptop and they were going to find it. She stood behind Julian as he powered up his computer, both hands fisted at her sides. No one threatened MI6 or hurt the people that Eve Moneypenny cared about, not on her watch. Whoever had done this was going to regret it.

Chapter Text

About a half hour into Julian's work, there was a knock at Eve's door. When she opened it, the administrative assistant standing there handed her a message that requested Eve's presence in Medical immediately. Eve breathed through the jolt of shock and fear; her first thought was that something had happened to Bond, and her second thought was how Q was going to handle that, and her third thought was to wonder how the hell England was going to handle 006 going completely over the edge. She folded the note up, glanced meaningfully back at Julian, and left.

She walked into Medical half-expecting to see the place utterly quiet out of respect for a 00-agent's life lost, but the place was as bustling as ever. As she neared the back, she caught a glimpse of Trevelyan and Q. Trevelyan was sitting on one of the beds. Q was dabbing at a cut on Trevelyan's head. Both of them looked relatively fine so far as Eve could see, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. That had to mean Bond was okay. But then why the urgent summons? Curious, she drifted closer to the two of them. They noticed her instantly, of course.

"Moneypenny," Trevelyan greeted cordially. They didn't know each other well, but he'd been noticeably more respectful and, dare Eve even think it, kinder since she had tipped the two of them off to Q's status.

"Hi Eve," Q said, pushing his glasses up.

"Hello. What's going on?" Eve asked bluntly, and then, when she got a better look at Trevelyan, she blurted out, "What happened to you?!"

Trevelyan smiled mercilessly. "I found the woman that I was looking for. She had some friends. Really, Q. I'm okay." He gently caught Q's hand and pulled it away. The cut across his temple was still bleeding sluggishly, and a normal person probably would've needed a stitch or two. But Trevelyan was no normal person and wouldn't accept a stitch anywhere near his body unless he was literally dying.

"You found her," Eve repeated. "That's great!"

Q beamed up at her. "Isn't it?"

"What did you get out of her?" Eve asked, hooking a chair with her foot and dragging it closer. She dropped into it, unperturbed by the intensity of Trevelyan's stare.

"Not much," he said finally. "She admitted that she got James with something while they were rolling around in bed, but she claims she doesn't know what it is. She says that it was given to her. She took an antidote first and then painted the toxin on her lips."

Eve screwed her face up and shook her head. People would probably never cease to amaze her. "So, there's an antidote then."

"That's what the doctors are working on, now that they know more about it," Q told her. "That woman still had the container on her. They're running tests right now."

Maybe she'd been wrong about R, Eve realized. Yet at the same time, she felt so certain that R had had something to do with it. She contemplated that while Q and Trevelyan whispered to each other. Maybe Bond had been poisoned by more than one person. He did have extraordinarily bad luck sometimes, and he also had a lot of enemies. Was it too much of a coincidence that two people would attempt to poison the same person within a twenty-four-hour period of time? Probably. If it was the honeypot, then at least that was a simple answer that wouldn't tear MI6 apart from the inside out...

Yet when Doctor Wood emerged from the back, the grim look on her face made Eve's heart sink straight through the floor. Trevelyan and Q snapped to attention and must have picked up on the same cues that Eve had, because Trevelyan took Q's hand without saying a word and held it very tightly. How hard it must have been for them both at the moment, trying to act normal. It wasn't like they were hidden away. Plenty of nurses and other doctors and even agents were around, listening in.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," Wood said delicately. "Would you follow me to my office?" She looked surprised when Eve stood up too but didn't argue when Eve followed Q and Trevelyan into her office. Which was just as well, because Eve was totally willing to go toe-to-toe with her to find out what was going on.

"It didn't work, did it?" Q said the moment the door was shut.

Wood pursed her lips and sighed. "It's not that it didn't work," she began. "But it wasn't as successful as we would've hoped."

"What do you mean by that?" Trevelyan asked, a hard note in his voice. But Wood was made of sterner stuff than the typical person and looked unmoved by the subtle threat.

"I mean, 006, that the toxin we've been working with is only half the problem," she replied. "There is something else wrong with 007. We've bought ourselves some time, but unless we can figure else what else he was dosed with..." She trailed off.

Maybe Eve hadn't been so wrong after all.

Trevelyan clenched his fists. "Give me five minutes alone with the honeypot, then. I'll get the truth out of her."

"Charming, but unnecessary. We've already had agents speaking to her and they're convinced that she's told us everything she knows." Wood held up a hand to forestall the coming objections. "She is only one cog in the wheel, I'm afraid. Now, we've taken samples from 007 and we're comparing them to the toxin. We may be able to eliminate the unknown properties. That would at least give us something to research."

"It's very coincidental," Q said quietly. "Most poisons and toxins don't combine well."

Wood nodded slowly. "That's true. I don't believe these two incidents were unrelated. Someone put a lot of thought into this. They wanted to make sure that even if we found one piece to the puzzle, that didn't mean we'd be capable of curing him."

"So, what can we do?" Q asked.

"Nothing," Wood said, grimacing. It was clear she knew how that response was going to go over. "Like I said, right now we're doing research. Unless you have some idea of who has done this..." She looked at them expectantly.

There was a meaningful pause during which Q and Trevelyan looked at each other, and Eve put a hand to her suddenly aching head. The answer was immediately obvious to anyone who knew even a few details of Bond's past. There was really only one person who was obsessed enough to go to this much trouble when it came to trying to kill Bond. Blofield. He had to have been the one orchestrating everything - which meant that the mission Bond had gone and where he'd met with the honeypot had actually been a trap.

And if Eve was correct, it meant that R was working with Blofield too. She felt a sudden chill at the thought and had to quickly school her face into a blank expression, not wanting anyone else to pick up on her panic. If that was the case, then it meant that Blofield had had a mole inside MI6 all along. Maybe even someone who had helped with Q’s kidnapping in the first place.

“We don’t know of anyone,” Trevelyan said at least, folding his arms over his chest.

Wood didn’t look like she believed him, but she knew better than to push a 00-agent. She sighed and straightened some papers on her desk, saying, “If either of you think of anything that would be important for us to know, please share it immediately. It could mean the difference between saving 007’s life.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Eve saw Q shiver and decided that he and Trevelyan a private moment alone. She looked at Wood and said, “Could I see Bond? Just for a moment?”

“Certainly,” Wood said. Perhaps she understood too, because she didn’t ask if Q and Trevelyan wanted to join them, and she pulled the door shut after she and Eve had stepped out into the corridor.

Eve was required to put a sterile coat, mask and gloves before she was allowed into the room where Bond was. A single germ or infection could put Bond’s body into overload right now and easily kill him, she was told. The thought lingered as she walked into the small room and looked at where Bond lay on the bed, hooked up to numerous beeping monitors.

It seemed odd to see him so quiet and still. Eve approached the bed but made no move to touch him. She had always thought that Bond would go out in a blaze of glory, not quietly and slowly fading away in a hospital bed. If Blofield’s ultimate goal was revenge, this would certainly quantify. Bond would be horrified to know that this was how he was dying. Horrified to know of the pain he was causing Trevelyan and Q. Horrified to know that Blofield had finally pulled one over on him.

And what, Eve asked herself, of Q and Trevelyan after Bond was gone? It wasn’t like Blofield was going to stop. No, he was a dangerous, obsessed man with a vendetta. Those two would definitely be next. Blofield wouldn’t stop until everyone that James Bond loved had been eradicated. That meant Q, Trevelyan, M16, maybe even Eve herself… they’d all be caught up in the inevitable wave of destruction.

Unless they saved Bond.

She turned on her heel and left the room, quickly stripping off the medical gear before leaving Medical entirely. Her thoughts spun as she made her way back to her office. When she opened the door, she was greeted with a gun. Eve froze momentarily before both she and Julian realized who each other was, and he lowered the gun with a sheepish smile. She raised an eyebrow as she stepped and shut the door.

“Who did you think it was?” she said.

“Based on what I’m finding, it wouldn’t have surprised me if it was R trying to break down the door,” Julian replied.

“You’re finding things?” Eve’s heart lifted with a surge of hope.

Julian nodded, setting his gun down and gesturing to the computer screen. “I’m not all the way in yet. She’s got some really strong personal protections on her laptop. But I’m getting close enough to make anyone who is paying attention really nervous. I should be in within the hour,” he said. “Do you really think she was dumb enough to set this up on her work laptop, though?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about criminals, it’s that they can be the smartest person in the world and still let arrogancy and cockiness take them down,” Eve told him. “Sooner or later, they all start to think that they won’t get caught because the rest of the world is just too stupid to possibly see through their brilliance.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s possible she used her personal technology, but I think it’s worth checking out her work computer first. Just to see. If we don’t find anything, I’ll break into her house if I have to.”

“Can I help?” Julian asked with an impish smile, and Eve smiled at him.

“Most Q-branch minions don’t like to leave the basement,” she said.

He shrugged. “I actually considered trying to become an agent, but my parents didn’t want me to. Said it would be too dangerous, and that I should use my talents on the computer instead.” Then he smirked. “Of course, if they’d known what you would be asking me to do, they might’ve reassessed that.”

“Danger comes with the job, no matter what job you do, when you work at MI6,” Eve said, walking over to look at his screen. It was filled with a bunch of coding, diagrams and information that didn’t mean much to her. She was good with computers, but only on a superficial level.

She kept him company while he worked for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, periodically checking with another one of her informants to make sure that R was still otherwise occupied. It was shortly after 2pm when Julian made a triumphant sound. Eve bolted out of her chair and hurried over to him. She gasped when she saw him looking at R’s email.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Well, I got us in. What am I looking for?” he asked, pulling up the search feature.

Eve hesitated. This was very confidential information. But she’d already trusted Julian this far, so… “Blofield. B-L-O-F-I-E-L-D. Look for anything related to that name.”

Julian typed in the name. Eve held her breath when the search feature failed to bring anything up. But then Julian performed some magic that retrieved all of R’s deleted emails from the server. Suddenly the search was populating with email after email. Dozens of them. Eve exhaled, feeling a rush of adrenaline, and pulled her chair up close as she and Julian started reading through each one.

They had her now.

Chapter Text

There was quiet in the room for several minutes after Wood and Moneypenny left. Q sat staring hollowly at the desk, feeling like a punctured balloon. His hopes had been high when Wood had pulled them into the initial meeting, but now he was lower than ever before. They’d been so close to figuring out how to heal James… but of course it wasn’t that easy. Nothing was ever that easy.

And Alec… Q couldn’t imagine how frustrated Alec was feeling right now. Tracking that girl down had been no easy or short task. Granted she had proven to be part of the puzzle, but Q was pretty sure Alec wasn’t going to see it that way. He shifted and glanced subtly at Alec, only to find that Alec was already watching him. Q froze at the sight of those penetrating green eyes, which always looked at him with such breath-taking intensity.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alec’s voice was low and worried when he broke the silence. It wasn’t exactly the gentle, soothing tone he usually adopted when Q was Little, but it was close enough that came within inches of breaking down completely.

Because a big part of Q wanted to collapse into Alec’s arms and sob until his papa figured out how to fix the world. He wanted to just let someone else handle the worrying for a little while, so that Q could cry and suck his thumb and then sleep without nightmares. He wanted to stop having to keep himself under such fierce control. He wanted to relax and let his papa soothe away his persistent, low-grade headache.

But Q refrained, just as he always did. As hard as it was to hold himself together, Q had plenty of practice. It was how he’d always handled things before becoming involved with the two 00-agents: he held it together until the crisis had passed and his presence was no longer required, then he went home to have a breakdown in the privacy of his flat.

As much as he wanted to lean on Alec right now, he also knew that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. They both had enough to worry about right now without Q becoming completely useless and adding to Alec’s stress by falling apart. Plus, he knew Alec well enough by now to see the coiled tension in Alec’s body; he was like a panther that was waiting for prey, but didn’t know where that prey was or how to find it. And that meant all that tension had nowhere to go, so it was just a matter of time before something was going to set Alec off.

Not that Q was afraid Alec would hurt him – he’d never been afraid of that with either Alec or James – but he thought that things like comfort and affection weren’t what Alec wanted to give right now. No, it was much more likely that Alec, like a lot of the 00-agents who needed to blow off steam, was going to either the training room or to pick a fight somewhere.

“Q?” Alec asked again, turning fully towards Q. His concern was visible now, and he looked like he was two seconds from getting up and touching Q somehow, maybe a hug or even a touch to the shoulder. If Alec touched him, what little remained of Q’s self-control would completely crumble. So he hastily responded.

“No, I’m not. But I – I think I just need to go back to my office so that I can sort through everything again. Maybe I’ve missed something,” Q said dully, wrapping his arms around himself. He was absolutely certain that he hadn’t, but at least looking through his logs would give him something concrete to do. Something to focus on so he would stop feeling like he was going to splinter apart.

Alec frowned at that. “You’ve already been through that stuff multiple times.”

“I know. You never know what a fresh eye might see though,” Q said, dropping his gaze. It was a dumb excuse and they both knew it. He almost hoped Alec would call him out on it, but at the same time he hoped Alec wouldn’t.

There was another few tense seconds of silence before Alec sighed. “Okay Q. If that’s what you want to do, I’m fine with that.”

Q glanced over at him again. “What are you going to do?”

“I…” Alec rubbed a hand a hand over his face. He looked tired. “I guess I’m going to go back to where I found that girl in the first place. I know that some of the other agents went over the building, but I didn’t get the chance to. There might be something there that they wouldn’t necessarily recognize as important.”

“Makes sense,” Q said slowly. “Be careful.” It was tempting to say more, but he bit his lower lip to stop himself. If he lost both James and Alec, he had no idea what he’d do with himself. The thought made his chest ache. Yet if James died, he could lose them both anyway. Technically, neither James nor Alec had signed up to handle a Little alone. Would Alec even want Q around if the worst happened? Q didn’t know and that scared him, but the thought of asking was even more frightening.

“I will,” Alec said. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home. I’ll be here.” He met Q’s eyes again and didn’t move until Q nodded.

Q didn’t watch as Alec left, keeping his eyes on Wood’s desk. When he was sure that Alec was well and truly gone, he lingered for a couple extra minutes to make sure he could keep his mask up while he made his way back to his office. Then, he unsteadily stood up and opened the door. No one gave him a second look as he walked out of Medical, which he appreciated.

He headed back to Q-branch and was a little surprised to see that R wasn’t there – it seemed like she was there all the time now - but figured it was just as well. If anyone else asked him if he was okay, Q was either going to have a total sobbing meltdown or freak out. He wasn’t sure which was more likely at this point, but neither would be pretty and both would seriously damage his reputation.

A couple of his minions turned to look at him as he walked over to his office, but mercifully no one spoke to him. Q breathed a quiet sigh of relief as soon as he was inside his office with the door shut and locked. Only then did he let a few of the tears that were burning at his eyes well up and spill over. Everything was just so frustrating. This whole situation had ended up being a ‘one step forward, five steps back’ sort of situation.

And wasn’t that just so typical of anything that James Bond was wrapped up in?

He shuffled over to his desk and sat, but didn’t boot up his main laptop just yet. Instead, he reached over and picked up the project he’d started working on after James got sick. What better ‘get well soon’ present could there be than an exploding pen? He was positive that James was going to be over the moon, particularly since Q had figured out a way to make the pen useable more than once: when he was finished, the pen would be able to hold a dozen small ‘ink’ cartridges that were actually miniaturized bombs.

Of course, that was saying that James would be able to keep the pen on him for longer than five minutes. 007’s track record when it came to items that he was outfitted with during a mission wasn’t exactly stellar. But Q was positive that this pen would be something James would keep close. Well, pretty sure. Maybe like 50% sure? At any rate, Q had also made sure the pen itself was relatively cheap and easily replaceable… just in case.

In spite of what he’d told Alec, he spent a while tinkering with the pen rather than looking through the files for the dozenth time. He was trying to figure out whether it was better to just make all of the cartridges bombs, or whether it would be better to make each cartridge have a different effect, when there was a quiet knock at the door. Q looked up in surprise.

“Come in,” he called, feeling slightly calmer now that he’d had the chance to focus on something else.

Moneypenny pushed the door open. “Do you have a moment, Q?” she asked.

“Sure. Say, do you think that in if 007 was in the middle of a mission, he’d have the patience to sort through ink cartridges to find one that would melt things versus freezing them?” Q asked, carefully setting the bomb cartridges back in their boxes.

“It’s Bond, so it’s more likely he’d just chuck the whole thing,” Moneypenny replied with a wry smile, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind her.

She had a point. Maybe uncomplicated was better. Q set his work aside and turned around in his chair. “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you about R,” Moneypenny said quietly, taking a seat on the sofa. For the first time, Q noticed that she had a laptop with her. It took him a moment to recognize it as Julian’s. He looked at her in confusion, wondering why she had it, and Moneypenny sighed.

“What’s going on?” Q asked slowly, not liking the expression on her face.

“I approached the whole situation a little differently than everyone else did,” Moneypenny said, meeting his gaze. “I thought… I wondered if maybe we had a mole in MI6. It was the one place, outside of your flat, where Bond consistently feels comfortable enough to relax. I figured it was my duty to look into it while the rest of our resources were elsewhere. I recruited Julian into helping me. That’s on me, not him, so please don’t be angry with him.”

Being angry at Julian was the furthest thought from Q’s mind. His heart was beginning to pound. “Why did you mention R? Please don’t tell me…” He trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish that awful thought. R was a good person. She was solid and dependable. It couldn’t be her.

“You can take a look for yourself,” Moneypenny said quietly, offering him the laptop.

Q almost didn’t want to take it, but he trusted Moneypenny almost as much as he did Alec and James. She wouldn’t lie to him, he knew. So he took the laptop and glanced down at it. The first email made his insides go cold with shocked disbelief. It took him a long time to read through all of them, because there was a lot. And what they revealed was that there was a whole different side to R.

She was working with Blofield, and had been for some time. Q recoiled when he went past an email with a very familiar date and time, which read simply ‘he’s gone’. That was the day he’d been kidnapped. She’d told Blofield when he left MI6, he realized with a fresh flush of sickening horror. Those feelings only deepened as he kept reading and discovered that this has been going on since Silva.

R had been a mole for years.

“She poisoned James,” Q said at last, barely believing that he was saying those words out loud.

Moneypenny nodded. “It looks like it. She dosed him through those biscuits, and then got rid of them before anyone realized what had happened.”

“I can’t believe it,” Q whispered, shaking his head.

“Believe it. Julian was very thorough, and that was just on R’s work computer. There’s no telling what’s on her home computer,” Moneypenny said grimly. “Q… I came here first. I wanted to let you know before anyone else because you’re her department head. But we have to go to M immediately.” She leaned forward. “And then we have to get some of those files to Medical. It has the toxin R used.”

“Yes… yes, of course,” Q said, trying to snap out of his shock. But it was just so unexpected. He couldn’t believe that R would’ve done this. Why she would’ve done this…

His laptop pinged with the sound that meant he’d received an email from someone in Q-branch. Q turned towards it automatically. He froze when he saw what was on the screen, every inch of him going numb with sheer dread…

“Q? Q, what is it?” Moneypenny asked behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

From: R
To: [list-serv: allMI6staff] [list-serv: MI6agents] [list-serv: M16departmentheads]
Title: Quartermaster is a Little

[attachment] QMedicalFile

Just thought I’d let all of MI6 in on this interesting little tidbid of information! After all, we all deserve to know who we’re working for right?

Cheers!