Archive of Our Own ^beta

As soon as his two week long hiatus was up, James was right back in M’s office, waiting for the man to return. The agent was nearly to the point of begging for a mission, any mission, anything to get him out of London and out of his boyfriend’s hair. It could have been the threat to his phone, or the mini-grenade project that nearly blew them both up on accident, or the coding projects that kept Q awake and out of the agent’s bed for three nights in a row...

“Or maybe Sunday, when you accidentally threw out a old motherboard he was using and he told you that he was going to rig all of your radios to screech out Carly Rae Jespen when you were hiding from the enemy?” Alec took another bite of his apple and smirked.

“I think it was him trying to cook for me this morning and nearly setting his own kitchen on fire.” James stretched, popping his neck. “I've never had eggs that were so...blackened before. No matter. I need to do something other than orbit around him.”

“You sure you two have this figured out? This whole dating thing? Even though the thought of you dating a spastic twitchy hacker with a perchant for ridiculous coffee and all nighters...”

James smirked as he sat down in the overstuffed guest chair. “Yeah, shut up." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Probably have it figured out.”

Alec peered at him.

“Maybe.”

His brows went up.

“I don’t fucking know, Alec, okay? He’s not...you've worked with him, he's not...that bad.”

Their conversation cut off as M walked into his office, trailed by Q himself. The Quartermaster did not look happy, the usual easy softness of his face replaced by brittle edges and sharp corners. James shifted so that he could let the man sit next to him on the large seat, but Q ignored him entirely and stood pointedly off to one side, tablet clutched in a white-knuckled grip. No, not good. The last time I saw him like this, he nearly quit MI6 in a fit of pique, and that's before we even really knew each other. He watched Q carefully, and addressed M.

“So. You have something for me. I hope. Because I'm driving everyone up a wall. Again.”

M sighed. “I have something for all three of you.”

And there it is. That's why Q's upset. James’s stomach sank down to about his hips, knowing there was more to come.

Alec leaned forward, his long fingers tapping along his knees. “Where are we going?”

“Tel Aviv.”

Oh, Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Planes. Q hates planes. Why does he hate planes? I’m not sure. But. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like them, and he’s going to have to be on one. Looks like I'm snitching more Xanax from Medical. James raised an eyebrow and turned to M. “How long would it take to sail there? Like, if we take the long way. Go around Africa?”

“Are you joking, 007?” M set the closed manila folder onto the ink-blotter on his desk.

“Not in the slightest, sir.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Q stiffen slightly.

"You are not sailing there."

"Fine." James snorted. “What is the mission, then, sir?”

“Protection detail and cybersecurity. Very straightforward. Everything is in the file. You can review it on your way to the location. I prefer not to talk at length about it, because you will be leaving rather soon, if Q can slot in the aeroplane.”

One glance to the side, and James saw the Quartermaster nod once, sharply, and his fingers flew along the face of the tablet.

“Protection detail, sir?” Alec sat back, perplexed, and rightfully so. “You are sending us on protection detail?”

“Yes I am.” M looked up. “Considering the chaos you created with those blasted cat ears -” Alec made an irritated little moue and folded his arms over his chest “- you two could do me this favour.”

James waved his hand to stem a possible outburst from Alec. “A favour. Yes, there isn't a problem. We'll handle it. Who are we going to be protecting, sir?”

All M did was tap the folder. “In here, gentlemen, as I said before.” He slid it forward, towards James. “Now, Q will be providing the cybernetic end of it. For all intents and purposes, he will be acting as a field agent on this mission, but he is still your Quartermaster, and you will -”

“Yes, fine, right, let’s get on with it already!” Q pushed away from the bookcase and snatched the folder off the desk. “I’m sure we can figure it out on the...flight...over there.” James stared hard at him, and saw the contained dread in the line of his thin shoulders. All M did was nod at Q and then flicked his hand at the agents.

“Dismissed. Oh, and 007? 006?”

“Yes, sir?” Both men paused in standing, though Q didn't even pause at the door before he was gone.

“Try not to blow the city off the map?”

“I’ll do my best. I’m not too certain about Alec, though.” James smirked, and his friend rolled his eyes at him.

Q had vanished completely when the two agents finally made it down to Q Branch to gather the equipment they would probably not need, but it's better to have it, blah blah blah. They were met instead by a spotty, heavier-set tech who held out two heavy duty duffle bags for them. “Should have everything you need in there, Agents.”

Bond huffed, irritated that Q wasn’t there to greet them. “Have you seen the Quartermaster?” He made no attempt to take his bag, so Trevelyan grabbed both and bumped against his shoulder. James glared at him, and the other man jerked his head in a ‘let’s go’ gesture. “Hold on.” His eyes returned to the technician, whose name he didn't know, nor would take the time to find out. “Well, have you? Out with it!”

“James.” Alec swung one bag over his shoulder and grabbed Bond’s jacket arm.

The tech seemed to curl up under Bond’s stare. “Um, no?”

“Bond.”

“We’re done here.” With something that sounded a lot like a growl, Bond turned on his heel and stalked out of Q Branch, Alec at his side. They headed to the bank of elevators, scattering low level agents and personnel in front of them and garnered their own car. Bond waited for the doors to shut before dropping his forehead against the wall.

“Problem?” Alec prodded.

“Planes, Q being an active agent, and my own fucking protectiveness rearing its head again.” He sighed. “I’m not thrilled about him coming along, even in a support role.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s still going to be behind the scenes, right?” Alec’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he set down a bag to pull it out. James snatched the bag as the door opened, and they moved out of the car and into the main lobby. Alec scowled at the screen of his phone and jammed it back into his pocket. “That’s the pup now. E-tickets are arranged, first class as always. He’s down in Medical trying to coerce the doctors out of as much lorazepam as he can, and he asked how the drink services were on British Airways.”

James sighed. “He doesn’t like to fly.”

“Well, I gathered that, you git. Is he a nervous flier?”

“More like ‘I’m never flying ever ever ever, unless I absolutely have to and even then I will be in a medically induced coma for the duration’.”

“Perfect." Alec growled in mild irritation. "Skittish slippery creature on a plane.”

James groaned. “If you say it, I’ll kill you right here.”

“Something about legless reptiles, correct?”

“Go to hell.” They hit the emergency staircase doors and moved down them as quickly as they could. “I assume Q has an itinerary already set up, and communications, and all of that?”

“Of course he does. He’s the Quartermaster.” Alec rolled his eyes and shoved open the access door for the basement parking, running headlong into Q.

“Oh, jeeze,” James snorted as the two men struggled to stay upright after the collision; Alec with his heavy grab-bag of goodies and Q weighted down with - “You have enough equipment there to start your own third-world country there.”

The juggling act that the hacker managed with his bags and wires, and the way he used his middle finger of his right hand to push his glasses up on his nose only to have them slide back down because he suddenly sneezed out a curse made Bond want to gather Q into his arms and hide him in a closet somewhere and never let him out, wrap him up in bubble wrap so he wouldn’t get hurt, and strip him and fuck his pretty little brains out right there on the concrete. That combination of feelings made his brain go off for a jog, and he had to shake his head to bring it back enough to shift his bag to one shoulder and relieve Q of some of his burden.

“Oh, good, thank you. And it’s hardly a third world country we are going after. Whose car are we taking?”

“The Jaguar. It has back seats.” Alec fished a set of keys out of his pocket and hit the fob, and the grey car nearest to them bleeped, its lights blinking a couple times. “I’m popping the boot. Put everything in there and let’s roll out of here. How much time do we have?”

“Three hours and forty-three minutes until the flight.” And there was that twitch again. James tossed his bag in, then divested Q of the rest of his equipment, shoving as much as he could so that everything would fit. “Good Lord. So much crap!”

“I tried to think of every contingency that could happen on site. I’ve got all I need and not an ounce more.” Q huffed and slid into the front passenger seat, while Alec and James exchanged glances. With a little sigh of his own, Alec folded his large frame into the back seat, leaving James to lower himself into the driver’s seat and start the engine with his own set of keys. Q scowled a bit at that. “Do you two share cars?”

“We share almost everything.” Alec’s smirk earned him a hard smack on the knee. “Ow! It’s true!”

James growled goodnaturedly, patted Q's knee and backed out of the stall, dropped it into drive, and roared up the ramp to the outside world.

First stop was James’s flat, where he gathered his and Alec’s garment bags - they both keep one packed for expediency - and then they were on their way to Q’s, now that he was allowed back into the building after the fires. They parked and jogged up the stairs to his third-story flat. Once inside, all Q did was flop down on his couch.

“They didn’t give me anything for the flight. They said that I needed to be alert and ready to go when we touched down.” He groaned, and James jerked his chin at the bathroom door, then pointed at Alec. The other man nodded and went over there as James sat down next to Q. "Have they seen me after a ride on a plane without it? You'd be better off getting a chimp to code."

“If I would have thought, I would have grabbed some. If there was a different way -”

“I just don’t understand why I can’t just stay here and direct those at Station T on the installs and the monitoring. How many bloody missions have I handled from my chair in my office? Or from the workshop? Or even right here?”

James’s lips twitched up at the mention of that whirlwind forty-six hours of guns runners, gold, and Q’s voice in his ear as the hacker set off a cache of explosives remotely, blowing up a warehouse in Belgorod. In his pyjamas, literally minutes after he’d woken up. “That was fun.”

Q sighed and relaxed a small fraction. “It was.”

“And you proved your point.”

“Oh, that stupid fucking verbal vomit I hurled at you to get your attention?” Q groaned. “I will regret that line to my grave.”

"I loved it, actually. And it actually worked, you know. I took you a bit more seriously after you said that." James draped his arm over Q’s shoulders. “It’s going to be fine. Obviously there’s a reason you need to come along.”

Q curled into James’s side, grumbling into his shoulder. “I’m not a field agent. I’m not a field anything. Have you ever seen me fight, other than on Devil May Cry?”

“Well, with any luck, you won’t have to fight.” Alec came back out of the bathroom. “You don’t have a back-up supply of Xanax or something?”

Q groaned again. “No, I’m a fucking idiot. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’ll be fine.” James patted his shoulder lightly.

“You don’t understand, James, I will be a wreck if I don’t have at least something.” He sat up, brushing away Bond’s arm and standing on his feet. “I don’t want to do this, but I will. Let’s...”

“Hey. Down about half of this, maybe?” Alec held up a bottle of cough syrup, and Q snorted.

“Oh, no. Not at all. That is for emergencies only.”

“Suit yourself.” He tossed it on the kitchen counter and put his hands on his hips. “What are we here for?”

“A suit, supposedly.” Q moved to his bedroom, talking as he went. “And I’m not really sure that I have one. I might have the components of one, I’m not entirely certain if it matches. Oh, and someone should grab the extra clamps in the tea towel drawer. I don’t want to get there and realise that their wires are twenty kinds of rat’s nests. Don’t want to take extra time trying to fix that while doing everything else. So, clamp all of them together, let them figure it out. I should grab some light clothes, too, because isn’t Tel Aviv in the desert or something? It’s hot, I’m sure. Sunscreen. I need sunscreen, or I will turn into a well-done lobster in twenty minutes. Sensitive skin. Probably aloe vera, too. It’s Israel, so nothing too obvious. White shirt? Nothing too tight, either. I want to be able to breathe.” His words muffled by his closet, he continued on, the monologue moving on to different computer components and solid state technology. James looked up at Alec from the couch and mouthed He seems to ramble when he’s nervous, too.

Alec nodded, and went into the kitchen fully to get the clamps.

James smiled. “Q, forget the suit, or components thereof. I’ll get you something before we leave. And Alec can go search for cool clothing once we get there. Just grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, it’ll be fine.”

“Really?” Q ducked his head out of the room.

“Yes, because I care about you, and I’m going to spoil you with that bespoke suit. Come on.”

Alec stared at him. “Are you nuts?”

James smiled. “I already have a suit on order from my tailor, all he has to do is fit it. Won’t take very long. He’s excellent.”

Their eyes met, and Alec sighed. “Yes, I suppose.”

James shrugged.

“Oh, Jesus Mary and Joseph.” Alec groaned. “Fine. I’m going to need his size for the other clothes. And yours, seeing as you only grabbed the garment bags and nothing else.” Another groan. “And I’ll be needing - damn it, Bond!”