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Q and Tanner were sat in Q’s lab, in front of the huge collection of screens mounted on the wall. Q had his laptop in front of him, tapping at the keys. On the screens was grainy footage of a bar in Bucharest. Bond was perched on a stool, looking around the dark room like a hawk. Over the speakers, Q and Tanner could hear the noise of the bar through the microphone pinned to Bond’s lapel.
“Incoming, Bond. Red dress,” Tanner declared, his eyes trained on the woman who’d just entered the frame of the main camera. Bond motioned to the barman to make him another drink, turning towards the woman.
Tanner noticed the way Q’s watchful gaze was now trained on his laptop and the lines upon lines of code on the screen instead of on Bond. ”Q? Are you paying attention?”
Q nodded, not even looking up. “I can see in my peripheral, but I need to focus on this code. Besides, it’s not like Bond needs any pointers from me on how to pick up women in bars.” His tone of voice betrayed whatever secret he was trying to keep. Tanner eyed him suspiciously, but decided to focus on the mission instead of why their quartermaster was suddenly full of angst.
“She has the USB on her person at all times, you need to steal it.”
Bond gave a small gesture to show he’d understood Tanner’s demand, whilst still focusing on the woman. Q suddenly scoffed.
“Stupid criminals. Who even bothers with flash-drives for information storage any more? Especially top secret information storage. Do they transfer files via bluetooth, too?”
Tanner rolled his eyes, rolling his eyes again when he saw a flash of a smirk on Bond’s lips. “Focus, Bond.”
Bond continued to flirt with the woman, using his smooth lines, his tried and tested come ons until she was leading him from the bar. Tanner couldn’t help but notice Q sink lower and lower in his seat as Bond flirted with the woman. He made a mental note to have a talk with him when he suddenly bolted from the room when Bond and the woman flashed back on screen via a camera trained outside the bar, Bond pushing the woman against the wall and pressing their lips together.
“Now would be a decent time to shut off communication until you’ve finished, Bond. I don’t quite fancy hearing you do your business.”
The woman pushed away from Bond, sashaying up the street; Bond lingered slightly behind.
“I’ll reconnect when I have the USB.”
“Hopefully Q will be back by then, seeing as I have no bloody clue how to use this equipment.”
“Q’s gone?”
“Legged it the moment you started macking on our target, though he’d been looking pretty uncomfortable for a while. Could just need a piss. Anyway, you go, I’ll go find our quartermaster.”
“Very good.”
—
Bond was still milling around headquarters hours after he was due to go home, trying to find Q. He wasn’t in his office or in the labs, he knew he hadn’t gone home and no one had seen him. He’d tried intel, and the computer labs, he wasn’t in the cafeteria and he hadn’t been admitted to medical. Then again, if a computer genius and hacker wanted to hide in plain sight, Bond was sure he could do it.
“Bond! Looking for your little cardigan-wearing genius?”
Bond spun around; Eve Moneypenny was walking towards him, a stack of folders in her arms. He nodded, casually pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the screen.
“You’ve seen him?”
“Fifth floor, the corridor no one ever uses. There’s a small alcove with a radiator, he’s there. He likes to be alone.”
“Thanks.”
Bond hurried through the building, racing up the stairs to the fifth floor, weaving through all the office space to the corridor everyone ignored in favour of the newer corridor with the conveyor belt. Upon opening the door, Bond could hear the faint sound of tapping, echoing through the empty walls. He quietly followed the noise until he happened upon the alcove. Crouching, Bond peered in to see Q sat cross-legged, his laptop balanced on his knees, his fingers flying over the keys.
“Q.”
“I see Eve has betrayed the location of my solitary space.”
Bond smiled sadly. “I was looking for you.”
“I know.”
Letting out a quiet sigh, Bond got to his knees, squeezing himself in the space beside the quartermaster. Q was typing up his report on the mission; Bond’s eyes instantly spotted the paragraph detailing his encounter with the red dressed woman.
“Q… I’m sorry.”
Q shrugged easily, a bored look on his face. “What for?”
“You know what for.”
“You’re just doing your job.”
“You know… I don’t enjoy it.”
“Please don’t lie to me… I know you’re just doing your job. I know sex with marks is part of that job sometimes. But… having to sit and watch? Watch you touch her like you’d touch a lover. Like you touch me? Listen to you whisper promises in her ear? However empty? Watch you pretend you’re this… unattached, single guy? Like there’s not someone waiting for you at home? Like I’m not worrying if you’ll ever come home? Scared the last thing I’ll ever see of you is you sticking your tongue down another woman’s throat?”
Bond could hear the cracks in Q’s voice; he let out a soft sigh, curling his arms around Q’s shoulders, pulling his head against his chest. “I’m sorry, Q. I’m so sorry.”
“I thought I could handle it, James, but I can’t. I knew what I was getting into, with you, but sometimes… Sometimes I don’t know…”
Bond pressed a soft litter of kisses to the back of Q’s neck, tightening his hold of him. “I love you, Q. Don’t ever forget that. It’s always you I’ll come back to.”
“And when you don’t come back?”
“I’ll always come back. I can’t be killed Q, it’s in my file. Many have tried, many have come close — Eve’s the closest, but I’m here still. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
Q finally let out a quiet chuckle. Bond smiled, pressing another kiss to Q’s mess of hair.
“If it’ll ease your mind, I’ll resign from field duty. I hear there’s a desk somewhere with my name on it.”
“No, Bond, you love your work.”
“Well, there could be less bullets aimed at me.”
“Besides, you’d get bored after a week and beg to be taken back.”
“A month. I’ll take a month off. I’ll come and work under you, testing your gadgets, I might even write a report on the good things.”
Q sat up, looking Bond in the eyes, giving him a watery smile. “I don’t want to clip your wings, James, just for my peace of mind.”
“No, you need peace of mind. I won’t be able to work very well with a quartermaster who’s going out of his head with worry or jealousy.”
“Because you’re mine, Bond. I’m not a selfish person, but fuck, I’m not sharing you.”
Bond laughed, running a hand through Q’s hair, pressing their foreheads together. “You don’t have to. It’s just my body once in a while.”
“But that’s the best part of you.”
Letting out a loud laugh, Bond pulled Q into a bone-crushing hug, pressing kisses to his neck. “Not my winning personality?”
“Hardly winning, James. Sometimes I hear the things that come out of your mouth and wonder why I’m with you… Then you bend over, and it all comes back to me.”
“Your mouth needs washing out.”
“You love my dirty mouth.”
“Disputable.”
“Irrefutable.”
“Finish your report and let’s go. I’ve missed our bed, with you curled around me like a skinny octopus.”
“Conserving body heat seeing as I generate none of my own.”
—
True to his word, Bond demanded a month off from field duty and made Q’s office his temporary home; and Q enjoyed having Bond by his side. With nothing to do most of the time, Bond would fetch Q cups of tea, or sit with his feet up on the desk reading a book or a report. Some days Q found things for them to do. Guns needed to be shot, explosions needed to be executed, new materials needed to be tested. On one occasion Bond got to take Q for a drive in the new Aston Martin. The plan was to just drive up to Wembley and back to check the actual car part worked, to check the handling was fine and the new additions didn’t make the gear stick stiff, or that the clutch wasn’t going to fall through mid-drive. But Bond being who he was, detoured up to the Heath, insisting it was a nice day and their quick drive shouldn’t be all the fresh air Q got.