Chapter Text
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself a little too much, Moneypenny,” James said, almost spitting her surname as if it was an insult. His eyes weren’t on her, however, but on two men dining at the Italian restaurant across the street.
Eve didn’t even have it in her to get mad at him. She just raised her champagne glass to her lips and smirked. “Oh, I am, James. In fact, I’m actually kicking myself for not arranging this as soon as I found out that M and Mr. Waverly knew each other from uni.”
“Well, you can tell Mr. Waverly that his agency’s acronym needs serious work,” James said acidly. From across the street and under a hideously red patio umbrella, Q was visibly enjoying the company of Napoleon Solo, if his delighted face and animated gestures were anything to go by.
“And what shall I tell M, hmm?” Eve asked, her smile growing wider. “That James Bond, notorious double-oh known for bedding women left and right, is jealous because another agent from another agency is flirting with our beloved Quartermaster?”
She could almost hear James gnash his teeth. “They’re supposed to be working.”
“The Deutsches Museum doesn’t close until five o’clock,” Eve said. “So, technically speaking, they still have two hours to...well, do whatever they want, really, seeing as Q has already hacked into the museum’s security cameras, and Mr. Solo is reputedly very good at what he does.”
“Oh?” James asked. Eve noticed the tips of his fingers were white from gripping his glass of scotch. Eve raised her eyebrow at that and turned her gaze to Napoleon Solo, ex-art-thief, and Quincey Holmes, ex-black-hat. Q looked like he was saying something incredibly technical, but Napoleon was all ears. He was leaning forward, hands clasped in front of him, nodding here and there, providing input whenever he could (which made Q even more invested in their discussion), and never looking away from Q.
“Yes,” Eve said, ignoring how James poured himself more scotch. “I also heard that when he was working for the CIA, he managed to return most of his tech in good working condition even if he himself looked like he went through a shredder. Can you imagine someone like him working for MI6? Q Branch is going to worship him and build a shrine in his honor.”
“You sound like you fancy him.”
“I do,” Eve admitted easily. “I’d have to be an especially unfeeling rock not to fancy him. And, since we’re already talking about it, I don’t think I’m the only one from MI6 on this street who fancies him.”
As if on cue, Q reached forward to illustrate something using Napoleon’s hand. Judging from how Q had wrapped his fingers on Napoleon’s ring finger, it was probably the taser-ring. Eve knew because Q had explained it to her the other day. James, on the other hand…
“Do his brothers know about this?” he asked. His breathing pattern suggested that he was trying to calm himself. Eve thought he was just wasting his time and was better off climbing a mountain with both hands and feet tied together.
“Of course they do,” Eve said. “You know MI6 is under Mycroft Holmes’s jurisdiction. Nothing happens that he doesn’t hear of. And, well, Mr. Solo and Sherlock Holmes have a shared tendency to...ah, re-acquire things. 005 says the two of them actually got along after mutually insulting each other during their first meeting. No doubt he now fears for the safety of the entire world if those two ever decide to team-up.” She looked at James’ incredulous look and added, “You’re going to have to up your game, Mr. Bond.”
“Well, shit,” James said, probably remembering his own (quite likely disastrous) first meeting with Sherlock Holmes. “Am I going to have to steal the Mona Lisa?”
“Q likes Monet,” Eve suggested, cherishing how James actually nodded in earnest, before adding, “Too bad Mr. Solo has already re-acquired most of his paintings.”
James swore under his breath. Eve patted his shoulder mockingly, then glanced at the nearest mirror beside their table to see how Gaby was faring with Illya. Judging from how Napoleon’s Russian partner was holding a fork the same way James was holding his glass of scotch, and the devious grin on Gaby’s face, she figured it wouldn’t be too long before their charges get their heads out of their respective asses.
“A word of advice?” Eve said, unable to resist. “If I were you, I’d just be thankful Q and Mr. Solo are choosing to spend their free time discussing tech stuff in public rather than retreat to somewhere more private and acquaint themselves with each other very thoroughly.”