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Chapter Text

Only a couple of weeks had passed when Bond returned from moonlighting with Dr Swann. The passion between them had burned away just as quickly as it had ignited. She wasn’t his soulmate and she had known this, subconsciously it must have affected their relationship. He had never put his resignation in, and this time he had actually had an opportunity to do so, instead of being declared dead or missing as usual.

M welcomed him back grudgingly, informed him that he was out two weeks of pay, and he was to help with the reorganisation due to the absolute cockup from the Nine Eyes debacle. Tanner remarked that he was just lucky that he still had all of his holiday time. Whereas Moneypenny smirked and told him that he had been put out of rotation as a punishment. The first time he saw Q when returning the purloined Aston, the boffin was a bit frosty with him, but it was only a little more than normal. It took him a bit, but he figured out that the young man was both happy and angry with him. Or it just might have been that Q was still a little vexed that he had also been put on probation due to their little coup. Either way, James was surprised when Q extended a dinner invitation at his flat.

Q was plating up the takeaway when he arrived. James noted that it was from his preferred Indian restaurant and that for once, Q had not ordered everything blisteringly spicy. The food was delicious, the wine one of his favourites, and the conversation completely innocuous. As the evening wore on and they migrated from the table to the sofa, Q sat a glass of scotch on the coffee table in front of him. The quartermaster was being a little too obvious in his endeavour to catch James in a good mood. So when Q put down his wine glass and sighed, the 00 was ready for anything.

“I confess 007, that even though I know we are unbonded, I was a bit excited to see you return that night. Then you took off in that damnable car and I was a little more resigned than angry. I understood why you did it, so I started preparing myself for life alone. However, here you are again and now I am just at a loss.”

“Q, what do you want me to say? You know why that is not going to happen. The words we both have for our third are, quite frankly, not encouraging.” He had always thought he would end up having to kill their third, as devastating as it would be. It was one of the biggest reasons that he had avoided bonding with Q, even going so far as to convince himself that he would be better off with a Blank like Madeline. As long as he and Q stayed unbonded, they wouldn't go mad from the death of their third.

 “Yes, but I’m never going to give up. Hope springs eternal and all that nonsense.”

“I didn’t take you for an optimist.”

“I’m not, I’m a pragmatist. I have always found a way around a problem, I am patient, and I will wear you down eventually.”

Bond shifted uncomfortably, here in Q’s flat he would allow the luxury of letting only his soulmate see his emotions. Q pretended to ignore it and James was thankful for the small favour. “So, I know you didn’t ask me to dinner for just my company,” he changed the subject.

“Yes, as much as I enjoy your surly nature, I do have an ulterior motive.” Bond ignored the overly dry sarcasm and nodded for him to continue.

“I have a mission for you.” Q looked a bit nervous and James was instantly aware that this was something off the books, something Q wanted to keep quiet. If it were something Six needed doing, they would be having this discussion in the M’s office with paperwork and a proper briefing. It didn’t bother him at all. They were not bonded but James had always instinctively known he could trust Q. However, in the interest of keeping his soulmate safe, he had to say something.

“Now Q, you just came off probation. Is this worth it?”

“I think it is. I thought about kicking it down to MI5. They take care of in house problems but something about this seems off. That and I wouldn’t be able to properly explain how I got the information.”

Ah, Q had performed an unauthorised hack and found something, but going through proper channels now would shine a light on some activities he knew the executives would be unhappy with, especially with the current situation. Bond knew that Q had come to MI6 through MI5 but he had never said how he had been recruited by them. At one time he had attempted to hack Q’s file only to be rebuffed by a truly impressive amount of security. The e-mail from Q the next day had sardonically informed him that the attempted security breach was not appreciated. He also had to contend with his credit card being declined for an entire week before he figured out that Q wanted an apology. The one personnel secretary he had tried to seduce had tartly informed him that only Mallory had access to Q’s file. James was sure that Q had been some sort of renowned hacker, and he wondered if he joined MI5 voluntarily or otherwise.

“Well, then, let’s have it” he finally answered when he realised Q had been waiting for a response.

“I stumbled across a series of disturbing emails from an organisation called the British Men of Letters. They occasionally handle some strange domestic disturbances that MI5 couldn’t be bothered with. That in and of itself is nothing important but now it seems as if someone in the organisation is planning some sort of assassination. One of their department heads, Lady Bevell keeps referring to the American target here in London. The latest email communicated that the subject would be delivered today.”

Q retrieved his laptop from the other room and pulled up several pictures. Lady Toni Bevell looked like the type of cold bitch he’d rather put a bullet in than seduce for information. Her eyes had a flat ambitious look that he had oft seen in agents that eventually went rogue. “So, what would you like me to do Quartermaster? I doubt she would respond well to a honeypot and it doesn’t seem like we have the time for that.”

Q rolled his eyes at him. “No. I suspect that she’s already received the package. I’ve been monitoring the Men of Letters and nothing of significance has gone in or out of their headquarters or any of their secondary locations. That leads me to believe the package and the target might be the same. I think she is conducting her business through an intermediary.” Q pulled up another set of pictures of a butch woman in black combat attire. “I tracked this woman to a home in Bexley. From what I have gathered, neither her nor Lady Bevell will be there tomorrow until the evening. I’d like for you to go there and retrieve the target.”

“Right then, first thing tomorrow morning then? Are you kitting me out here or at Six?”

Q flushed, “Ah, well if you don’t mind staying here tonight, I could do it in the morning. I know you were staying at the Savoy since they sublet your flat.”

James smirked at the obvious ploy, “Why Q if I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to get me in bed. Funny how Six rushed to rent my flat out.”

The quartermaster turned a deeper shade of red. James didn’t mind, Q had warned him that he was never going to quit asking until James gave him a hard no. Afterwards, they had developed a strange sort of friendship and as such, he had stayed at Q’s now and again after they first met.  James had been genuinely surprised that Q had taken his rejection in stride, the boffin had weirdly not been jealous of his continued liaisons either on or off mission.

“Any specific reason for the sleepover?” James had noticed a pattern after the first couple of times. He would feel a particular need not to be alone. Then somehow his feet would carry him over to Q’s flat where he would find the young man out of sorts. A few hours in each other’s company would find them both relaxed and comfortable, and the next morning everything would be fine again. Bond did not want to attribute it to all important mystical healing properties people reported soulmates had, but the evidence was mounting against him. So a tentative accord had been reached when it came to their unconsummated bond, considering it generally made them both feel better to spend some time with each other.

Q flopped back on the sofa, “I missed you? We both have the time for once?” He took a deep breath and looked directly at James, “I feel strange like somehow this is very important. I only ran across information because I was trying to take my mind off of the fact that you had just left. And now strangely you are back and we are doing this. A small part of me wants you to go there right now, the larger part says wait and plan and everything will be fine.”

James just nodded in understanding. He was used to trusting Q’s gut feelings. It had gotten his fat out of the fire on more than one occasion in the field. “Well, then I suppose we should call it a night then.” James grabbed both his glass and Q’s as he moved toward the kitchen. Meanwhile, Q retrieved a blanket and pillow for him and placed it on the sofa. After tidying up the kitchen, Bond found Q standing in the hallway to the toilet dressed in adorable tartan pyjamas.

“Right then, it’s all yours, I’m going to bed.” Q hesitated for a moment, and James knew he was about to extend the customary invitation to share the bed. The younger man surprised him by saying instead, “Good night James.”

As lovely as Q was, James was not going to risk it, so instead, he just smiled tenderly and replied, “Good night Q.” A small pang of regret raced through him as he watched his soulmate disappear into his room. James shook the feeling off as he completed his evening absolutions and planned for the day ahead.

Chapter Text

Bond was awake but still lying on the sofa when Q walked out of his room to the kitchen. He had learned not to bother Q until he was adequately caffeinated. He watched as the boffin gulped down his first cup of scalding hot coffee before pouring another one and moving toward his laptop.

James slid off the sofa and joined him at the table. He had already been up and prepared for the day over an hour ago but it was so rare for Q to get adequate sleep that he had let him be. Q was humming to himself as a plethora of windows popped up on the screen. Diary appointments, car rentals, street surveillance cameras and after a moment the younger man crowed in triumph. "They have a camera streaming inside of the townhouse, where the subject is being kept."

Bond watched as Q tapped into the feed. A tall longhaired man was chained to a chair in the middle of a basement, there were obvious signs of torture. The live feed shrunk to a square in the corner of the screen as Q played the video from the previous day.

"He's been shot, that might make extraction a problem," Q observed.

"I can handle it," James replied. "What in the bloody hell are they talking about?"

Q and James listened as Lady Bevell asked some odd questions and the man whose name was Sam replied with equally odd answers. The two MI6 agents watched on as their perception of the world tilted on its axis.

"Well he's got some mouth on him, he's not afraid of her at all," James said admiringly.

"Is that all you have to say 007? What about the implications that the supernatural is real? Either that or we've discovered a highly delusional set of people playing a very dangerous game."

"Q, I'm less concerned about that than the fact there seems to be a conspiracy to keep this from the British government. At least he's smart, he knows that if he answers her questions they have no more use for him, even she said he's dangerous."

Both of them look at each other incredulously when Sam says he's been tortured by the devil himself. The water comes on and Q scrolls through the video to the next session of talking.

When the other woman turns on the blowtorch and begins burning Sam's feet both James and Q flinch. "He wasn't lying about being tortured before, he almost looks resigned." James stoically watched as Sam screamed. Q moved forward to the two women speaking again.

"At least she's pragmatic," James said darkly as the other woman put down the blowtorch and Lady Bevell moved on to a syringe full of some unknown substance.

"How is it that he can still walk after all of that?" Q remarked. He had been on comms several times as agents were tortured, helpless listening in, hoping their extraction team made it in time. He winced as Sam pretended to slit his throat.

"Clever," James remarked, impressed at the young man's plan. "He should have killed her," He comments a second later when Sam fails to escape. "Well, I suppose I should be going if we're to get to him before the bitch comes back." Q slid the case with James' Walther over to him. The agent chuckled, "How did you get this out of Q Branch?"

"No one questions if the Quartermaster takes projects home," Q said stiffly.

It was child's play to get into the house and Bond could only hope that he would get lucky if he ran into something supernatural. His earpiece had ceased working the moment he entered the house and that was not encouraging. However, the basement was easy to find and he approached Sam cautiously. The man had proven he was a formidable opponent and Bond didn't want to complicate things by having to knock him out.

Nevertheless, Sam must have heard him approach. He didn't lift his head but he spoke clearly, "You're going to have to kill me. I won't give you a single thing."

James froze, that was his other soul mark. He had never dreamt of this scenario. "I'm not going to kill you," James winced slightly, his words back weren't any better.

Sam lifted his head and stared at him incredulously. Sam shook his head and Bond waited while the man assessed him. He finally spoke a beat later, "Okay, we'll deal with that once we get out of here," he paused and took a shaky breath. "You're obviously not with them," he stated. "Are you with the Alexandria Organisation?"

James didn't reply, instead, he unchained Sam and helped him stand. Sam shrugged at his non-answer and rolled with it. Looping his arm around him he helped Sam up the stairs. When James turned the knob on the door he had come in, it wouldn't budge. “What the hell is it with this bloody door!” he growled as he tugged on it.

James felt Sam squeeze his side. "Did you get in this way?" James nodded and Sam muttered, "Overconfident, only wards to prevent someone leaving." He swayed slightly and motioned for James to put him down. Bond gently lifted his arm off his shoulder and helped him to the floor. “The walls,” Sam said. He placed his hand on one of them and suddenly the room lit up with strange symbols. “Break one of the lines,” he murmured before passing out.

James wasted no time scraping a knife through the bizarre glowing paint. The light extinguished and he tried the door again. It swung open and he ended up having to hoist Sam up and carry him to the SUV he came in.

As he was buckling Sam into the seat his earpiece abruptly squealed back on, "James? 007, what's going on?"

"I've got him Q, we are on our way now."

"Thank god! I lost everything, the sound and cameras cut out the moment you opened the door." He heard Q typing frantically. "Everything in the house has been wiped. The only data I have is the video I gathered this morning."

"About that Q," James checked to make sure they weren't being followed, "Look up the Alexandria Organisation. Sam thought they had sent me to rescue him. I'll check in again once I get to the safe house." James did not mention that he had found their other soulmate. That revelation could wait until he thought they were in the clear.

As if summoned by his pessimism, the car suddenly fishtailed as he was struck sidelong by another SUV. He couldn't afford a car chase through London, so he pulled over and got out. The occupant of the other car emerged, it was the bitch's lapdog, Ms Watts. She raised her fists and since James didn't care to waste any time, he raised his gun and shot her point-blank in the face.

"007, what was that?" Q inquired, still listening in.

"Q, call Alec. I need a cleanup at this location." He dumped the woman's body into her car and pushed it off the road into the trees. He got back into the car and noted that Sam hadn't even stirred. As he proceeded to the safe house, James hoped that Q had restocked the medkit with the good drugs, it looked like Sam was going to need them.

Chapter Text

Bond drove to a safe house slightly outside of London proper. The hour drive was shortened considerably by his frenetic driving and Q ensuring the traffic flowed in his favour as well as diverting any local law enforcement away. After he pulled into the garage of the nondescript house Bond placed a hand on Sam’s forehead. The young man was warm and his clothes were spotting up with fresh blood. The inside door to the garage opened and Q looked at him inquiringly as he swiftly got out and rounded the car to the passenger side. “Q I hope you have a suture kit, it looks like we might need to stitch his bullet wound back up." As gingerly as he was capable of, the double o hoisted Sam out of the car and carried him inside. Q pointed to a room down the hall and James laid their soulmate on the bed before going back out to see if his other was retrieving the necessary first aid supplies.

Bond grabbed Q by the arms before he could enter the room. “Q, did you know?” His soulmate had promised he wouldn’t look for their third, had promised that he wouldn’t make James confront them if it turned out badly.

“Did I know what?” Q hissed as the 00’s hold on him tightened painfully.

“He’s our third!”

“What?” The shock on Q’s face told him that the young man hadn’t known, and all of the anger drained out of him. James was too old and jaded to believe in luck, but after all of these years and all of the near misses, something must have been looking out for him. James realised he was squeezing too tight and abruptly let go. Q staggered back but grabbed a hold of his jacket before he overbalanced. “Bloody hell James!”

“Sorry, Q! But you know how I feel about this.” He rubbed soothingly at the spots where his hands had been. He always feared that his rough edges and brute strength would bruise and cut his soulmates and, in the end, they would fear him and abandon him. But Q was never intimidated but him, even now he was glaring at James with an expression of exasperation.

He huffed and dryly replied, “Quite, and in detail. However, since we know that you are not going to kill him and he needs us, I think we should bond.” Q shoved a bunch of bandages in his arms, and continued, “And if we are staying in my house for the foreseeable future, you are going to call me by my actual name. I’m not going to be introduced to my soulmate by my work moniker again.”

“Emery,” James followed him into the room and placed all of the first aid supplies onto the bedside table. “Why on earth do you want to bond now of all times?”

Q gave him a withering look. “You really don’t know anything about soulmateship do you?” He said tiredly. “Despite the nonsense that you see on the rags in the grocers, some of the benefits of soulmates have been scientifically proven. One of those is that bonded soulmates heal faster and transmute pain. I’m hoping that with the bond we can help him recover, it also helps that the euphoria from bonding overrides pretty much any other feelings.”

“That is all well and good, but I don’t think he’s in any condition to understand what is going on at the moment.”

Emery rolled his eyes, “I hadn’t noticed. We’ll patch him up for now, and once he is cogent, we can have that discussion.” James nodded and set out the suture kit for him. He may be old hat at stitching himself up, but he preferred when Emery did it as he took care to make his neat and he was far gentler about it than Bond was. Then again, if Bond was doing it, it was usually out in the field and usually an emergency.

Q peeled Sam’s shirt back and startled as the man swung out his arms up in defence. “No please don't!" he cried out still a bit delirious from pain.

"Please calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," murmured soothingly, as he tried to clean the areas around the wounds. He wasn’t happy about their first words, but at least they were not from as dire circumstances as previously believed.

Sam watched them warily, but both James and Emery could tell he was barely holding on to consciousness. In a surprising display of openness, James grasped Sam’s hand and spoke, “Sam, my name is James Bond and this is Emery Holmes. You’re safe for now, and we’ll explain everything later.”

Sam nodded and then his eyes slipped closed. Q huffed when he realised that Bond had used the distraction of his grip to stick the other man with a painkiller. “He doesn’t need to be awake for this, and he needs to recover from the shock,” he said in reply to the knowing look Emery gave him.