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Chapter Text

James Bond was a solitary creature by nature, as were most double-o's. But even the most solitary of creatures needed companionship and comfort from time to time. For a long time, he thought he could find such comfort in the arms of a pretty woman, curves and all, but most of the time it felt empty, hollow and meaningless. The sex was great, but James had not realized he was missing a part of himself until very recently – that there was a half to make him whole.

Q fit those pieces, slipping in and shielding the heart and the pieces that Madeleine Swann could not and would not fill – her own hurts, history and training as a professional psychologist not allowing her to do so. And the solitary nature of his business felt a little less lonely, a little less looking into an empty bottle and unfulfilling sex.

James never really considered polyamory, but he supposed this was a form of it – since Q provided an emotional intimacy that Madeleine could not.

Madeleine was aware of the nature of his relationship with Q and kept quiet about it, but he also knew that she was a little hurt. He had offered to end it with her in the immediate aftermath of bringing Q back from the South China Sea – a first for him considering he just left most of the women he took to bed with empty blankets and not even a phone number – but she had demurred and asked for time to think it over.

She never said anything after, but continued to welcome him to her private, unlisted home in Norway time and time again through the year Q had been on administrative suspension. They had fights, especially about James' work and his willingness to continue to do it – James never promised Madeleine exclusive sexual intimacy considering the nature of his work – but Madeleine welcomed him again and again after missions in her own way.

James knew he was a very lucky man in many regards. He was still one of the more prolific double-o's in the service, had two lovers by definition, and had most of his health. Granted the aches and pains of his age should have retired him from the field long ago – he was over the mandatory retirement age of 45; but James would not trade his life for one of domesticity at this very moment; not yet at least.

And he knew why he hesitated: He did not want to chose between Madeleine or Q if he settled down. He knew them very well enough that both of them would never get along. They would be civil towards one another, but their core personalities were far too volatile to truly accept the other. Q was too smart and too much of a Holmes that he would cut Madeleine down to pieces. Madeleine was too perceptive and too much of a psychologist to analyze Q's history and actions to dig deep past the hurt she would inflict.

James' only saving grace was that both of them understood why he sought the other out from time to time and was generous enough to allow that for him.

Let it not be said that James Bond's romantic entanglements were complicated.

James took a swig of the bottle of cheap beer he had found in Q's refrigerator and let himself relax further into the love seat that had become his habitual perch whenever he broke into Q's flat.

One of the cats, Nikola he thought, dashed across the hardwood floors and meeped in surprise when she ran into the throw rug, wrinkling it for a second before shaking her dainty paws out with an indignant chirp. She flounced away as if she had not been randomly running around. Schrodinger, Q's other cat, was still napping upstairs in the bedroom. He would be downstairs soon enough when Q returned; attempting to kill his owner by twinning around his feet as he entered.

Schrodinger would make an excellent guard cat in James' opinion. He tended to get underfoot for anyone entering the flat – including 002 who fed Q's cats whenever a mission went long. James had learned that tidbit from 002 herself in a rare moment of conversation during their flight to Japan two weeks ago.

James estimated it would perhaps be a little past nine at night when Q would return home today. The mission parameters were simple enough that it was probably considered a milk run by Q's standards as 001. 005 was the assist and 001 was the main instigator to send a message to the last of the warlords that had been a long running mission for the last few months. The ties left to get rid of the main hacking group the warlords had under their employ before they could flee.

James and a good amount of the other double-o's had run a bulk of the missions in-person. This last one was not only to tie off any loose ends, but to formally re-debut 001 to the rest of MI6.

He easily saw through M's ploy – giving credit to the man for a far more political savvy than he had ever expected of his position. His M, was far more ruthless and less prone to politicking than Mallory. M had played the long game with this one to formally debut 001.

And while James had his reservations – Q did mention being a double-o was addicting in its own way – it seemed his friend had made his peace and come to terms with being a double-o again. And one that was just a little more different than the one he encountered at Safin's underwater base.

Still a snappy dresser – even Bond was a little jealous at the wardrobe Q had procured for himself separate from his everyday wear as the Quartermaster when he peeked into Q's closet an hour ago – and apparently turning heads everywhere at headquarters.

That particular commentary had been from Moneypenny, Nomi and Mina. He suspected if he had exchanged mobile numbers with the other double-o's, he would received the same commentary from 008, David Lee.

All four double-o's that had been formally assigned to the Japan mission and the adjacent one regarding the two moles in MI6 were put on formal administrative leave pending the conclusion of the investigation by Internal Affairs. It was routine in the sense that all double-o's were normally made to stand down on a mission if they had to discharge weapons, but this particular one required a longer audit time due to the fact that the courier for the moles in MI6 was a fellow double-o.

And M had played the political game by formally re-designating 001 into service by making 003, Nathan Johnson, Q's second formal kill – thus no need for an administrative suspension. The first kill was retroactive – Thomas Ashleigh, the former R. It was unusual to say the least, but James knew where M and even Q was coming from. Q had to make the choice himself considering his previous history as 001.

It was also why James offered to do the kill for Q. Not out of pity, but out of friendship and everything he knew Q liked and disliked about himself.

But, it seemed M was determined to make 001 the face of a new era of espionage; digital warfare. It made the most sense, since analog means were far from obsolete – but the fact that members of Q branch were not double-o's and thus did not have the license to kill.

Designating Q as both 001 and Quartermaster meant he could have that type of power instead of relying upon a fellow double-o to infiltrate, plug in a thumb drive and blow the place sky-high. All 001 had to do now was to infiltrate, flip a digital switch and targets would die in a far more efficient and impersonal measure.

A bit like how the military of the world used drone warfare instead of sending in pilots to shoot targets from afar. There was still human methods needed, but they were less relevant than sending in a machine.

Impersonal and something James still could not quite wrap his head round and come to accept, but it did not mean he understood why such methods needed to be used and why 001's re-designation was crucial at this time.

This new incarnation of 001 was for digital means and this mission, scheduled to last a mere two days, was showcasing the future of espionage.

It also meant James was staring at the inevitability of time like the painting he had sat in front of years ago when he first met Q. An old warship hauled to its final destination. He knew he could advance his own skills in computers and digital means, but he also knew that his skillset lay more in physical destruction and intelligence gathering.

He sighed quietly and took another swig of the cheap alcohol, letting it burn down his throat.

Nikola chirped and dashed up the stairs before an irritated meow from Schrodinger who was apparently wakened by his fellow cat, was followed by both cats dashing down the stairs. It was followed not even a half-second later by the clicking turn of a key on the lock.

Q was home.

James took another swig of his beer before letting the bottle hang off of his finger tips and watched the second, heavier door, open with the ease of the person who had lived in it for a long time. The first times James had broken into Q's flat – he considered that even if Q had left him the passcode to get into his flat, it was still breaking in since it's owner was not home – he had been very surprised by how heavy the second door was. An examination of said door showed that it was bullet proof and had a layer of electrical security measures within it – and designed to spread through the whole house should the door be knocked off of its hinge by any enterprising intruder.

Said means to trigger the electricity was apparently a larger version of the protective EMP layer that was in Q and 002's earpieces during the Japan mission.

“James...” Q's voice was quiet, but held the edges of coldness in them.

“Quinn,” he returned with an ease and familiarity he felt at seeing the duality that was Q and 001 as the same person. Intellectually, he understood both to not be akin to separate personalities – but rather different skillsets. As easy as putting on the charm and natural seduction he had as an agent, 001 was like wearing a coat for Q. Easy to put on, not so easy to shed.

But, this version blended both that James was not terribly bothered by it, but instead was still intrigued and interested. However, he also knew to heed Sherlock Holmes' words from over a year and half ago about what Q liked as himself and what he disliked, but used as part of his 001 skillset.

Q walked in past James, setting his suit jacket and mobile down onto one of the high stools on the kitchen island before grabbing his usual accouterments of a teapot, cups and bourbon. The cats twinned and chirped around Q's legs, determined to be petted. James had already fed them when he arrived a few hours ago. The low lights of the kitchen allowed James to study Q dressed as 001.

And it definitely stirred something in James that was not jealousy.

There was dress to kill and then there was dressed to kill. Q was clearly the latter with his expertly tailored outfit, from the waistcoat that emphasized his slim, boyish physique to the button down shirt that was a fitted modern style. His slacks hugged his figure in all of the right places and there was enough give in the material to not only accommodate the gun holster Q wore across his shoulders, but also if there was a need for close-quarter-combat. Combined with the coiffed hair and lack of glasses that somehow made Q look a lot younger than he was, 001 oozed modern sex appeal.

James would not be remiss to say that what 001 wore at this very moment was a turn on.

He was, however, still jealous that even though he did a lot of his tailoring from an expert on Salve Row – the Holmes brothers evidently knew someone who was even better at it. James knew Mycroft Holmes had purchased a bulk of Q's outfits as 001 this time around; his attempt at some bizarre petty revenge by living vicariously through his younger brother – 002 had texted him her slight annoyance at scheduling a lot of appointments with tailors and haberdashers in the span of three days to get Q all of his outfits on Mycroft's insistence and deep pockets.

“I'd like the name of your tailor, if you will,” James drawled, not even hiding his appreciation for the view.

Q turned his head slightly from where he had been digging into his cabinets for a tin of loose tea with the familiar roll of his eyes and light scoffing sound. His smile went to his green eyes which meant it was definitely Q instead of 001. He pulled out the tin and set it onto the table as he flipped the switch to the kettle.

“Be a darling and set the tea please, James?” Q asked before he turned and headed up the stairs with Schrodinger following right at his heels. It was a miracle the cat did not get stepped on with how close he was following Q's footsteps.

James set the bottle of beer onto a rather ratted and frayed looking coaster – courtesy of one Miss Rosie Watson's school project – and pushed himself from the love seat. He poured the hot water into the tea pot and set everything up just as Schrodinger's chirps preceded Q's footsteps down the stairs once more.

James looked up to see Q dressed in far more comfortable looking clothes, with his cardigan and sweatpants, though he clearly kept the buttoned down shirt on. He had forgone his contacts and put his glasses back on though his hair was still rather coiffed. “Still waiting on your tailor's number,” he drawled as Q took over by pouring tea for both of them. James added the splash of bourbon to his own cup and held it towards Q who declined with a shake of his head.

“Only if you want to brave Mycroft's meticulous planning and mother henning,” Q shook his head lightly and let loose a deep sigh before taking a long sip of his tea. “This...is what I needed.”

“Can't drink Earl Grey when you're 001,” James alighted on the fact that 001 did have different tastes in drinks. Expensive ones too if the cognac shared on the plane ride back from Japan was any indication.

“At least it's not for too long and too often. M promised me that,” Q replied quietly. “I'm also to be mentoring 006, 0010 and 008 – provided he survives the next six months.” The younger man sipped his tea again, looking a little older as he absently stared at the bowl of fruit on his island. “David's not taking 003's betrayal and death well.”

“No one is,” James admitted. Even he was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that the most unassuming double-o among them was a mole all along. That he was the courier to feed information to whomever he was reporting to for a long time. Defections and betrayal was nothing new for James – but this one stung.

He understood now why the predecessor to his title had retired soon after killing the previous 006, Alec Trevelyan. Though it was never officially confirmed, but scuttlebutt and the rumor mill had stated the two previous 007 and 006 were the best of friends and 007 had taken 006's betrayal personally.

Vesper's betrayal still stung, but it was more of a dull ache now, soothed by years and years of distance and of comfort by Madeleine and Q. But, as he looked at Q, he knew that the man before him would never betray the country and force him to do something unthinkable. That in of itself was a sense of twisted comfort, but it was comfort nonetheless.

He did not have to imagine how Q's subordinate, Arthur Pearson, was feeling at the moment. He knew Q had been grooming him to take over the position of R, but once it came to light about 003's betrayal; Arthur would never be considered for such a high-security position at all – even if 003 had stated that he had used Arthur for years. There was too much distrust, too much at stake.

James knew he had been very lucky to not have been removed from double-o status after Vesper's death. M trusted him implicitly and he had proven himself by capturing Mr. White and by taking down Dominic Greene's corrupt Greene Enterprises.

“0010, Pepon, is thankfully not here, but Geoff is keeping an eye on his mission carefully. Nothing too risky, but we do need the three leaders of the terrorist cell eliminated.” Q looked weary for a moment before sipping his tea again.

“Do you need me to be there?” James had been planning to head into the office to watch the last day of the two-day op assigned to Q, but he also had been planning to head in discreetly so not to further the rumors between him and Q. He would throw that away in a heartbeat if it meant to show his support to Q and to 001 – that it was 007 who stood next to him as 001 made yet another almost impossible killshot.

James had been prepared to be shot once more considering Q had been suffering from the effects of electrical shocks that made his aim dangerously unsteady. But the shot that pierced 003's neck and narrowly missed James' ear was a thing of gruesome beauty. Like the killshot on Thomas Ashleigh, it was precisely surgical.

“No,” Q shook his head slowly, pouring himself some more tea.

James took his time with his own, not feeling the need to drink much alcohol tonight when he would be staying over and giving his partner the comfort he needed. In ways, James was glad he could at least do something for Q when it had been Q doing a majority of the heavy lifting of this relationship they had. James who was the active double-o, risking life and limb for Queen and Country. Coming home to the forgiving arms of either one of his lovers.

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken by the sounds of mugs hitting the island. James studied Q who did not look at him the whole time, but he knew it was not for avoidance or anything else – Q tended to lose himself in his thoughts whenever he used his skillsets as 001. In ways, it was a form of compartmentalization for the younger man; able to hold a conversation, but unwilling to look at his loved ones before he was ready.

“What do you need, tonight?” James broke the silence with his gentle question.

Q sighed, deep and heavily before closing his eyes for a moment. “Tell me I'm doing the right thing, James? Tell me that I'm not mad for considering this as the next phase of my life.”

James had already moved even before Q finished his world-weary sentence. He engulfed the younger man in a tight embrace, pushing Q's head to rest against his chest, to listen to his heartbeat and to stave off the trembles that he could feel running through the thinner form. Q was wiry, but also surprisingly muscled in places that were hidden underneath the layers of shirts and designer cardigans. A part of James had been pleasantly surprised in the rare times he had held Q – in bed or even cuddling on the couch. But it also made sense that Q would have a workout routine and be able to handle prototype firearms before giving them to the double-o's for field testing purposes.

“I can't tell you that,” he murmured, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. He could feel part of Q's frames jamming rather painfully into his own collarbone, but did not care. “But I can tell you that we'll find the path like we always do.”

He felt Q turn his head, lips starting to search for open skin and while there might have been a time where James would have allowed it, this was Q and James knew him very well. This was not Q and was most definitely whatever remained of 001. He gently released Q and pushed him slightly away, looking deep into the bespectacled green eyes of his partner and friend.

“No,” he stated firmly.

Q frowned for a moment before squinting and pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand. “I'm sorry...James, I'm so-”

“Come on,” James pried the mug from Q's other hand, setting it firmly down onto the countertop before gently leading Q up the stairs. The cats followed, though at a far more sedate pace than attempting to murder them.

“We're going to bed and you're going to sleep,” James stated. He did not need to add that he would only gently hold Q like they tended to do whenever they fell into bed together.

Q nodded, looking suddenly more exhausted than ever. James ruffled the coiffed hair fondly, knowing that his friend would thank him in the morning for keeping his libido in check instead of instigating it as much as he wanted to.

Chapter Text

It was not often that James Bond woke up to an empty bed, but he saw that Q's side of the bed had already been made and a note was stuck on the endtable. [Thank you.] A quick peek into Q's closet and hamper indicated he had gone back to MI6 to work.

James made himself breakfast, showered and checked on the cats to ensure they would be fed and watered for the day. He then drove back to his own flat to change into his normal suit, tie and jacket and finally headed into MI6.

MTAC was crowded already and James found himself easily blending into the background.

Vanya, the newly promoted R, and her team were hard at work. Judging by the quiet chatter, 005 was sarcastically thanking 001 for not leaving her any scraps from yesterday's work by gassing the first safehouse. Oddly, 001 was not at the station that was clearly set up for him, but James peered in between the press of bodies and suppressed the snort of laughter that threatened to emerge from his lips.

001 was lounging like an overgrown cat on the spare couch next to the main MTAC screens. A very well-heeled overgrown cat.

James had an absurd mental image of Nikola replacing 001's form on the couch. It was followed by the even more absurd image of 001 as underfoot as Schrodinger. Either their owner took after him, or 001 took after his cats.

“He's less manic than yesterday, more like himself in Japan,” Nomi's smooth, rolling tones spoke up at his shoulder. “You got something to do with it?”

“If I did?” James answered her with a raised eyebrow. His fellow agent merely smiled crookedly and stood next to him, arms crossed across her chest. He had no doubts she had already inferred a relationship between him and Q, but had never inquired. Discretion and quietude were her modus operandi and he found her quite pleasant to work with time and time again – a rarity among the double-o's considering they were very used to doing things their own way.

If she followed his lead during their missions together – it was all the more better – and destructive to their enemies' chagrin.

“Paloma wants to work with him,” Nomi said after a few minutes of watching 001 idly type and banter with 005 over comms. The other agent was waiting in a cafe near the second of the safehouses. Said safehouse was on high alert and 005 would probably see a lot of action today.

The easiest way would have been to hit both safehouses at the same time, but apparently M wanted a message sent so 001 had gassed the first one and let the hackers holed up in the second one become paranoid during the night. Nomi and Mina providing the mission brief and a blow-by-blow of 001's activities yesterday was rather entertaining in of itself.

“Paloma knows it's not Q, right?” James shot her another dubious look.

“I don't think she cares,” Nomi shrugged, “she likes him.” The corner of her lips curled into something that resembled a canary-eating smile. “Jealous?”

“Hardly,” James had a professional reputation to maintain, friendship with Nomi not withstanding. “There is no room for regrets in our line of work.”

Nomi made an noise of interest before turning to look back at the havoc 001 was wrecking on the safehouse's systems. James could not even begin to fathom the first thing about what 001 was doing, but whatever it was, it seemed Nomi was rather impressed judging by how high her eyebrow rose. Oddly, the camera feeds that had been hacked showed the safehouse had analog doors, but no one seemed to have started escaping or noticing something was amiss.

005's position at the cafe across the busy road from the safehouse was an eagle eye on the happenings. The back door was fenced into the nearby rail lines. A hazard if there ever was for someone if they tried to escape. A perfect entry and exit.

“I read his file; seems a bit sparse in places,” she murmured.

James had not bothered to read Q's rebuilt file as 001. He knew everything he needed to know about how 001 operated by personally working with him, but also understanding who 001 was underneath it all. Knowing how much Nomi loved ferreting out secrets like any good agent, if she was saying it was sparse, then it was probably the barebones of the history of 001's previous missions, aliases and kills. And it seemed both M and Mycroft were determined to ensure this incarnation of 001 was different than the one operating in the early Aughts.

“He really operates differently as 001 then when he's Quartermaster, doesn't he?” Nomi continued.

James was not sure what Nomi wanted him to say or to think, so he kept silent. 001 sat up on his couch, a sardonic smile on his face as he seemingly typed in a few more lines before glancing at Tanner who stood at proper attention at his actual MTAC station like a good handler. It was a bit odd to see Tanner acting as mission control, but James supposed there was no other person that could act in Q's stead if he was being run as 001 – except probably M.

Q was the third most powerful person in MI6 and thus anyone below the chain of command – James himself included – could not override any orders given; if that at all. James knew that the times he went dark infuriated Q or any of his other handlers, but an agent's instincts were usually spot on. Sometimes though, he knew agents who thought they knew better and did not have the experience to back said instincts up made terrible mistakes.

And more often than not, it was Q and his team who bore the emotional brunt of those mistakes. 0010's position had a notorious curse for the last ten years. Three men and one woman held the designation of 0010 and all four died on Q's watch. James – oblivious to his own growing feelings – and had been concerned about Q's mental state after the last of the four 0010 died. Even Moneypenny had been unusually concerned. James really hoped this new 0010, Jose “Pepon” Rodriguez would survive past year one of his induction as a double-o; especially since he was the last one the traitorous 003 mentored.

He glanced back as the door to MTAC opened to see 008, David Lee – the other mentee of 003 who had been raised to double-o status – come in with a neutral expression on his face.

Lee stiffened as he spotted James, but smoothed his expression quickly.

“Lee,” Nomi greeted quietly.

James merely nodded at the younger agent.

“006, 007,” Lee said flatly, moving to Nomi's other side. His gaze was focused on 001 and his posture was tense. James glanced back to see 001 with his head bent next to Tanner, pointing out a few things on the older man's screen. Technically Tanner was older by a few months, but age had not been kind to his features as much as the youth of 001 when they were next to each other.

James glanced back at Lee whose expression betrayed nothing. He understood why Q was worried that Lee was not going to last another six months. The man was primed to get himself killed judging by the lack of emotion on his face and the tension in his body. It was clear Lee loathed Q for 003's death. However, what was not known was whether or not he blamed Q for 003's death.

In their line of work there was a distinction.

“Mina?” Nomi murmured.

“On her way. Canteen,” Lee replied shortly.

And just as Lee fell silent, the doors to MTAC opened again, letting the last of the double-o's who were currently on suspension from the Japan mission, slip in. Mina Zhang, or Zhang Mintao, had the dubious honor of being the oldest active double-o in terms of age, but looked like a woman ten years younger. James was mildly jealous of her features and ability to stay so youthful, but Zhang had the eyes of a person with decades of experience and hardship.

“Nomi, Bond, Lee,” Zhang greeted with a slightly accented tone before she handed over a steaming cup of coffee to Nomi who smiled and sipped it gratefully.

“Mina,” James greeted his fellow agent with a warm smile as she slid up to his other side.

“Missed you yesterday,” she said quietly as she sipped her coffee. A pleasant sigh escaped her lips and he related to the feeling of the first sip of good coffee. Surprisingly, for a government facility, the canteen's coffee was rather decent. It was not the fine luxury of grinding beans and Chemex pour-overs that James liked to make for himself or Q in the mornings, but it did its job in a pinch.

“Had a lie in,” James replied with a small shrug. He could feel Nomi's eyes on him and even piquing Lee's interest.

Mina snorted and took another sip of her coffee. “I would have thought this would have interested you.”

“It's a mission,” James knew what Mina was prying at, but wanted to make it a little difficult for her. It was the elephant in the room after all and he suspected the South China Sea mission to stop Lyutsifer Safin was now officially on 001's records. He knew his answer had somewhat frustrated Mina since she suddenly went for the jugular as was her preference as an agent.

“What's it like, working with 001?”

James smiled mirthlessly as he also saw a few curious personnel standing in front of them start and try not to indicate that they were listening to his answer. MI6, a government intelligence agency, and none of them could keep a secret within its walls. Gossips, the lot of them.

“Economical,” he replied after a moment of thought. It was not really needed considering he could say everything and anything, but James would not give up all of the secrets of working with 001. Not when he still could not quite figure out if Lee held a grudge against Q. “Not quite military, but economical.”

“Holmes never had formal military training,” Mina murmured almost like an afterthought.

“Any relation to Sherlock or Mycroft Holmes?”

“It's a relatively common last name,” Mina shrugged at Nomi's question.

James had to admit it was down right unusual to hear Q's actual last name spoken out loud. It was something he was going to have to get used to. He supposed it was also not easy for Q to hear his real name spoken, but Q probably made his peace with it when he reactivated himself in the personnel systems and decided to go by his real name.

James did not miss that Q had only shown his initials of his name and instead, left his last name as the only identifier. The Holmes name was a powerful one in the hallowed corridors of government.

“He's ruthless,” James threw Mina a metaphoric bone. “Precise.”

He suddenly alighted on something he knew would both serve as a warning to Lee if he was considering any form of revenge. “He does have a moral code.”

“We have morale codes?” Mina's gaze was incredulous.

James resisted the urge to roll his eyes or scoff. Even with their licenses to kill, each of them had their own style of morality. 004 not withstanding. Edward Klein could go to hell for all he cared along with the late 003 Nathan Johnson for all of the dubiousness of him betraying his country for cash since there was no way he could have betrayed it for love.

“You get one chance with him,” James eyed Lee who was resolutely looking forward and still pretending that he was not listening into their conversation. Nomi's face was making an interesting expression knowing that she was literally in the path of James' death glare to Lee.

“Oh...this explains the Safin family mission and Lyutsifer Safin,” Mina murmured a little too loudly. However, she had not looked at James and instead, was also giving a pointed, though less heated look to Lee.

“This is so awkward,” Nomi muttered underneath her breath.

A sudden flurry of excitement from R and her team broke the moment as James turned back to see 005 alert on the CCTV cams, though it still looked like she was lounging in the Parisian cafe. 001, however, had pulled away from Tanner and was almost manically gleeful in typing on his touchpad.

The cameras showed the result of the action as the toaster in the safehouse sparked something fierce, clearly alerting the occupants before it caught fire to one of the curtains in the kitchen windows. There were at least five men and one woman who ran into the kitchen, alerted by the sound and sight. Three of them tried to put it out, but couldn't reach the sink since the flames spread quickly and began to try to put it out by other means.

Suddenly one of the men and the lone woman froze, visibly sniffing the air before panicked expressions overcame their faces. James realized that somehow 001 had activated a small gas line in the stove before they started to urge the others to leave, all making a mad dash to the doors. Two went out into the back; four, including the woman, dashed towards the front-

The feed suddenly went static as the safehouse exploded. James alighted onto the other CCTV feeds that showed at least one of the four hackers who went through the front door thrown clear out of the house and onto incoming traffic, dead the instant he hit a car and fell like a ragdoll onto the ground. The other feed showed one of the two men hanging off of a fence, impaled from the explosive force. The lone survivor who fled through the backdoor was stumbling along the rail lines.

005 was already up and moving, gun drawn, firing a finishing killshot into one of the surviving men before chasing after the woman and man that were stumbling away and into traffic. James turned as he saw out of the corner of his eye something cold in 001's eyes before he typed in something into his pad and then the CCTV feed showed a rail car, moving a lot faster than it had any right to be within civilian areas speed through and hit the lone survivor from the back door. The man's body was dragged under as it slowed down to normal speed after hitting him.

That was another of the hackers, dead.

001 lowered his touchpad and touched the back of his ear, unmuting himself to what was probably 005's comms. James watched the screens as 005 weaved around Parisian traffic to catch and kill her quarry. The shot was visible on all cameras, but it was also the point of this mission – to send a clear message. 005 only paused to put a second bullet into the man's head before she chased after the woman.

James flicked a look at 001 and saw him draw out his P225 before casually attaching a silencer to the end of it. A thin smile was directed at Tanner before 001 moved towards them. The crowd parted to let the agent through and James glanced at the screens to see 005 stop short at the Gare du Nord platforms where a Eurostar was just leaving. She looked slightly frustrated, but seemingly stilled as further instructions were given over the comms. 005 moved away to another platform.

James did not quite step out of 001's path towards the doors, but rather acknowledged his fellow agent and friend with a brief nod. It was returned with the barest hint of a warm smile before the coldness settled back into 001's features. There was no mistaking where the agent was headed to intercept the last of the hackers of his mission. As much as James wanted to follow, he was also curious enough to stay in MTAC as 001 disappeared down the hall. He was more than likely taking the Tube at the Victoria line near Vauxhall station.

Oddly enough, the room seemed to have also relaxed as everyone moved closer to the MTAC central operations area and murmurs started up. James and the rest of the double-o's stayed in the back, still unobtrusively watching, though he caught Mina's pursed lips from the corner of her eyes. She was focused on watching 005 getting onto the next Eurostar bound for London, looking for all intents and purposes a little peeved.

Let it not be said that 005 enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and like all of the double-o's in service, disliked their quarries getting away.

“He is different as 001,” Nomi murmured next to James. Her lips twisted into a slight grimace. “That was uncomfortable to say the least. Like being in a confined room with a deadly viper.”

James merely shrugged. He was, to be perfectly honest, used to 001's presence. However, it did amuse him to see that 001 unsettled anyone and everyone who was not used to him.

“Get me MI5's Second Desk and Scotland Yard,” Tanner called out before walking a few feet away from the MTAC stations. “We can't spook the target, but we can at least thin out the crowd a little.”

James wondered if there was a reason why they had not stopped the Eurostar that the last of the hackers was on. He supposed there was a plan somewhere there considering 001 had conferred with his handler and clearly had anticipated someone escaping.

“Embassy team on-site,” R called out loudly, “local trains stopped to clean up the mess on the tracks.”

“Ma'am-”

“Go Ashley. We've got it,” R nodded to one of the junior minions who looked quite pale.

James and the others moved out of the way for the young technician to leave the room; clearly either about to be sick. He glanced at the cameras still showing the gruesome remains of the body that had been run over by the train. It was a pretty brutal and violent way to die and James had no doubts that 001 had a train programmed to use in such a way for an escapee.

“Well, I'll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pyjamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field.”

It was not quite so much the damage that James knew he was looking at – he was well aware of the damage Q and 001 were capable of, but rather the brutality of it. Q was not kidding that as 001, he was more psychopathic and sociopathic. Callous with the lives of his targets no matter how the job got done, it was economical in that sense that it sent a very distinct message.

James knew his question to ask whenever they next had their normal late-night tea and bourbon: Was Q and by extension 001's rule of giving one chance made to curb that sociopathy?

It seemed M was handling the MI5 side of things – procedure if Six was going to make a kill on national soil – Second Desk was their operations division as Tanner was helming the call to Scotland Yard for enforcement of the station's security to disperse some of the late-morning crowds and to prevent the lunchtime crowd from coming into what would be a known area of operations.

Feeds of St. Pancreas were brought up roughly half an hour since 001 left and it seemed he had made contact, but that no camera picked him up yet. James was rather impressed with the fact that 001 had the ability to blend into the crowds – even as well-dressed as he was. Fifteen minutes passed and it was not until one of the minions on R's team suddenly made a noise that James and the others got a good look at 001. He was casually sitting in one of the cafe's across from the tracks of the Eurostar sections of St. Pancreas.

James fought to keep the smirk off of his face at how relaxed 001 looked, the air of a commuter waiting for his train, sipping a drink from the cafe while reading flipping through his tablet. Equally amusing was the fact that even as casual and unassuming 001 was acting, he was still drawing some gazes, both male and female from patrons and a few lingering pedestrians that had not been cleared away by Scotland Yard.

“All you double-o's are bastards,” R muttered none too loudly with a heavy shake of her head. She turned and gave them a look, “Present company included.”

“We love you too, R,” Nomi replied with a bright grin.

“If Q was here, you'd be not getting any gadgets for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait, does that mean he gets to supply himself with gadgets? Hardly fair,” Mina scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, but she was also smiling broadly.

“Actually, no gadgets for him. Except for the palm-print encoded gun. 001 doesn't like using Q branch gadgets,” Tanner interjected in a distracted manner. He was frowning at something on his mobile.

James' eyebrow rose in surprise, but it was 008, David Lee who answered.

“Makes sense. He's a gadget himself. Can probably hack his way through anything if given field missions.”

James glanced at Lee who did not look at him and instead stared at the screens. He still looked tense, but it seemed he was far more interested in seeing 001 make his actual kill in person than perhaps on whatever thoughts had occupied him regarding the late 003.

“I still want an exploding pen,” Mina muttered as an afterthought.

“I liked the EMP watches,” Nomi shrugged. “Sonic disrupter is still my favorite though.”

“You needed to be here in the era of the Major. I was only a senior field agent then in Station H, but heard about 007's predecessor carrying around some flashy equipment. Exploding pen made the rounds. Something about an invisible car, but I think someone was pulling our leg.”

“Sounds...noisy? Messy? Not really subtle or practical?”

Mina laughed and patted Nomi on the shoulder as she gave her a sideways look. James left the two women to discuss the finer points of Q branch technology and its evolution – or devolution as Mina was arguing for, though she did concede the sonic disrupter was a marvelous piece of technology as was the palm-print encoded guns. He focused back on the CCTV feeds and watched as 001 aimlessly scroll through the tablet.

James' eyes tracked the other patrons and he spotted something that looked a little off. A few tables behind where 001 was sitting was the grainy image of someone who looked a little like Dr. John Watson. He glanced back to where 001 was sitting and realized that the CCTV was only showing a somewhat side profile, mostly a bed of curly, coiffed dark brown hair, a similar jacket, waistcoat and slacks combo, but it was not quite exactly the shade 001 wore walking out of MTAC.

James realized 001 had somehow gotten Sherlock and Dr. Watson involved – or at least having the CCTV cameras pointed at them and the minions mistaking Sherlock for 001. It struck him that the Holmes brothers did not operate on coincidences. Just like there was no way Sherlock Holmes would be loitering in St. Pancreas with Dr. Watson, there was no way that they were not deliberately there unless 001 had requested them.

Considering how Q was affectionate with his older brother versus the eldest of the Holmes, along with the fact that James knew how protective Sherlock was of his younger brother, Sherlock would more than likely want to be involved. James realized this was Q's way of repaying Sherlock for the year of cases Sherlock had given to him to occupy Q during his suspension.

Like Sherlock letting Q see his world, this was Q's way of letting Sherlock see his world. By directly getting involved in some capacity.

James was not going to tell Mycroft what was happening if that was the case. He had no inclination of getting involved in any Holmes brother spats – removing himself clearly from the equation like 002 and Dr. Watson wisely did each time.

But neither was he going to tell the rest of MTAC what 001 was planning. He was also sure that while many would claim to recognize the famous Sherlock Holmes, no one would be able to identify him from his side profile in comparison to 001. Someone would be able to probably figure out it was Sherlock Holmes soon enough, but if this was the gambit 001 was playing then James was content to let it play out.

The rest of the hour and half passed quickly before the Eurostar with the hacker was scheduled to pull in. MTAC became more alive in the intervening minutes as R, Tanner and the team began to issue image orders and tracking of the passengers disembarking from the train.

“Got her!” One minion suddenly shouted and the image of the hacker, limping along though quite disheveled, was brought on the main screen. Other passengers were clearly avoiding the woman or ignoring her while a few concerned train personnel tried asking after her only to be brushed off.

She limped determinedly towards the cafe as more passengers crowded around the Eurostar, ready to board. Scotland Yard had thinned the crowd as much as possible, but they could not completely close off one of the busiest stations in London.

“001, incoming,” Tanner warned.

James watched with interest as Sherlock, playing the role of 001 to a degree of eerie perfection, tilt his head slightly as the limping woman sat heavily down across the cafe table. There was a glint of something in her hand – either a knife or a gun – but Sherlock did not seemed phased. Dr. Watson, however unobtrusively watching the proceedings in the back, seemed rather alert and James knew the doctor probably carried his illegal SIG 226R on himself.

“001, we can't hear you on the comms,” Tanner called out.

R and her team's heads all tilted upward, puzzled. “Equipment is functioning. Headset is working and active... 001, are you reading?” R blinked.

Sherlock still hid most of his face away from the CCTV cameras, but there was no doubt that he was talking and gesticulating with his hands towards the female hacker. They were short bursts of movement, to which the woman replied in equally short bursts of conversation, but it was an eerie mimicry of 001's modus operandi of little words and even littler sense of conversation. 001 operated by intrinsic fear and sociopathic charm, letting his targets babble as much as they wanted to before delivering a killing blow.

“001, report,” Tanner called out again.

“Uh...” the same minion that had spotted Sherlock on the CCTV at the cafe spoke up, “sir...ma'am...that's not 001. I was, uh, mistaken-”

“But that's the escapee from-”

A new CCTV feed, grainy and definitely from across the tracks was brought up as the main feed. The camera was zoomed in at the strongest magnification, which made the footage even worse, but Sherlock's distinctive profile – with a far more narrower jaw and sharper cheekbones than Q's was visible.

“That's Sherlock Holmes!” Another minion cried out before slapping her hands over her mouth. James and the others stared at her as she blushed heavily under scrutiny. He made a mental note to warn Q that one of his mid-level minions was apparently a fan of Sherlock Holmes.

“Huh...” Nomi was the only one of the three double-o's next to James to make a sound that verged on being both impressed and baffled.

“He is related...I guess,” Mina added a few seconds later.

“Movement!”

James focused back onto the main feed and saw Sherlock throw his trademark shark-like smile, a far more sinister version than Q's, before reaching out to accept something from the woman. James suspected it was how the woman knew to find and track 001 to the Eurostar terminal cafe. The feed changed back to the side profile one of Sherlock at the cafe to watch him get up, Dr. Watson following suit at a nearby table, just as a small crowd of people still departing the Eurostar wandered by. James watched as Sherlock and Dr. Watson melted in with the crowd.

The female hacker relaxed in her chair, looking relieved for the second they had her on the screen before her form was covered by a small group wandering the opposite direction Sherlock and Dr. Watson had gone. When next they saw her – a mere two seconds – her head was slumped over at an unnatural angle and there was a clear sign of a bullet wound in her temple.

The crowds had not even noticed yet.

“Target eliminated, 001 signing off,” 001's voice was coolly confident and James could not help the smile that appeared on his lips. A job well done if had to evaluate 001 as a neophyte double-o. He had not even spotted the agent among the crowd that had blocked the visual of the target for two seconds.

“Color me impressed,” Mina murmured next to him. “Textbook.”

“Send in Five's dogs now to secure the body and area!” Tanner ordered.

R and the rest of MTAC started to come alive again as they secured the site and James decided now was the best of times to head out, having seen what he wanted to see when he first arrived. Maybe a trip to the liquor store near Q's flat was in order – a bottle of cognac for the agent.

Chapter Text

“How is Mycroft?”

Q scoffed and shook his head while taking a small sip of the cognac before setting the glass down onto the coffee table in front of him. His other hand was absently petting Schrodinger curled up on his lap. The cat – in a fit of generosity – had allowed Q to pet him for a good fifteen minutes already. James knew enough about the cats that it was probably a miracle of sorts.

“Diogenes Club, thankfully.” With Q's hand freed of the glass, he reached up and wound it through James' that hung off of his shoulder. Squeezing it, they cuddled closer as the telly blared an old episode of Doctor Who. Q had already seen it while James was not as interested in it, but had gamely watched in between the lulls of their conversation. “Thank you for not saying anything.”

“And spoil your surprise?” James absently rubbed his thumb across Q's knuckles. Q was still coming down from mission high, but unlike the near-breakdown of the previous night, he seemed more content, assured and comfortable in his skin.

Q hummed, his face close enough to James that he could feel the vibration of his vocal chords it against his shoulder. The younger man turned his head into his shoulder not a moment later and breathed deeply. “Thank you, for last night too. I...”

“I know,” James replied softly. “Are you going to be all right?”

There was a moment of silence before Q spoke up again into his shoulder. His words were a little muffled, but understandable. “Visiting Madeleine?”

“She texted me this afternoon. Said she wanted to talk to me in person,” James replied. A part of him wondered if it was the conversation that he had been dreading for a while now – that Madeleine did not want to be with him anymore, but another part of him seemed to be at peace with it. To James, having both Q and Madeleine as his anchors felt like having his cake and eating it too. Something had to give in the tenuous relationship he had been balancing for a year and a half. Granted, he had been with Madeleine longer, but he also knew that she did not exactly like the life he had as a field agent.

But James did not feel ready to retire even though his body occasionally told him otherwise. He knew he could consult, he could probably be a trainer at Six, or even work in the field offices for a stint – but there was that itch, that need to be a double-o that still persisted.

A check with M earlier in the afternoon, before Madeleine's text had come through, indicated that the investigation into their Japan mission was still on-going. There was probably another week left, but James itched to get back into the field. He loved the domesticity with Q and with Madeleine, but he supposed now that with Q confirmed as 001, there was something that made him want to be in the field – to know that Q could be deployed alongside him, working with him.

And there was something very exciting about that.

“Please give her my best and love when you do see her. You should tell her about my status as 001 so she doesn't get alarmed,” Q murmured into James' shoulder. Unlike the searching lips of yesterday, Q's were feather light, enough that James resisted thinking about where else those lips could be. However, his mind traitorously flitted to the unexpected moment in Q's kitchen before the Japan mission – where Q had surprised James by allowing him to find some release against his hand even if he had been fully clothed. Q claimed he did not mind and liked it knowing that James did harbor less than clean thoughts about him, but had also made it clear that it would not be reciprocated by Q himself if it came down to it.

It made James feel both guilty and relieved. That he could at least allow himself something with Q even though Q was not interested in sex in the least. At least it had answered a question that had been brewing in the back of James' head, but it also brought about a new conversation that he knew they had to have sooner rather than later. They had to talk more about their sexual compatibility – or lack thereof on Q's part. James did not want to mess up whatever was between them just because he read something wrong in Q's body language.

No one said relationships or romantic friendships like this was easy, but James still loved Q no matter what and was willing to forge on to see where they ended up. But with 001, it felt a lot harder to separate at times – especially when Q was on mission high and extracting the remnants of 001 from what he liked.

Q was coming down from mission high, he reminded himself. The last mission high was barely a week ago and that was a near drunken disaster in the air. He felt Q turn his head so that he was now staring more at the TV and using his shoulder as a pillow instead.

A far more safer option.

“Sherlock enjoyed himself. Dr. Watson, not so much,” Q's fingers twined in his own stopped his thumb from their absent movement. Instead, Q reciprocated the movement with his own thumb. A habitual sign of Q's affection. “Though he still called me the sane one.”

“You are the sane one,” James smiled.

“Aelithya, the last female hacker – that was her handle – she got smart and tracked me after I gassed the first safehouse.”

“But you knew that.”

He caught Q's smile, a little feral and cold, before his expression resumed its neutral outlook. “Asking Sherlock was the favor I could repay to him for letting me consult on his cases. Plus, the tablet he took from her in exchange for her safety, was meant for Scotland Yard. They had some domestic-side related help and it's better off in the Yarder's hands instead of Five.”

“They won't be happy.”

“Not my problem,” Q shrugged. “Well, not yet. M's got that problem now, but I can deal with that tomorrow in the debrief.”

James chuckled lightly at the apparent laziness of his friend and partner. There were times when Q mirrored the other two Holmes brothers exactly in the manner that he knew infuriated 002 at times. Lazy on some aspects, hyper-focused on others. In this case, it was rare for Q to kick such a can down the road – always wanting to complete and tie off such a task before it became a bigger problem in the long run.

“Feeling domestic?” he teased lightly.

“With you? Yes. I am comfortably settled for tonight. I am resting from a successful mission.”

“You were brilliant, but I still want the name of your tailor...” James gently leaned down to kiss the top of Q's head, breathing in the shampoo and leftover hair gel that Q had not quite washed out after he had gotten home.

“I'm refusing on principal so Mycroft doesn't get any ideas,” Q shot back with a grin. “Besides, I'm rather taken with your Tom Fords and style myself. Don't change it.”

James tilted his head. “As ordered my Quartermaster.”

Q laughed lightly and rolled his own eyes before sighing and burrowing a little deeper into James' shoulder. His expression became more serious. “Did you see David?”

“Yes.”

“I heard your warning to him,” Q's thumb stopped its movement and his fingers curled a little tighter around James' hand. “It's sweet, especially between you and Mintao, but I don't think it'll be necessary. Not for lack of trying, but David's got the same problem as Arthur. He just hides it better.”

“Are you going to recommend a full suspension?”

“No. Grounding a double-o like David Lee does no one any good. There's an op coming up in a week and half that we were going to give to 004, but it may do Lee some good to go on this one. Get it out of his system. Probably might kill him, but if he comes back alive, then he'll be back to as normal as one can be. I'll show him the evidence then.”

James frowned and shifted. He pulled Q a little closer to him and felt him adjust to get comfortable once again. The Doctor Who episode still blared in the background, but Schrodinger suddenly leapt off of Q's stomach and lap with a pointed mew at the movement and flounced away.

“Can you tell me a little about the evidence?”

Normally James would have demanded to see the evidence or read a mission report, but since it was Q – and by extension 001's investigation – he had curbed his instinct to look for the evidence gathered on the moles or even subtly inquire how Q had come to the conclusion that 003 was the courier. It was clear the Japan mission had been two-fold, both for an actual symposium that Q had been expected to attend per his position as Quartermaster, but also to lure 003 into making a mistake.

The only thing not anticipated was that 003 had somehow caught on to the fact that he was about to be made and so had prepared and escape plan. Q had all but indicated that he had been targeted because he was the Quartermaster and the one who knew how to track 003. James knew because when Q had requested weapons authorization as 001, 003's last expression was one of pure shock before the bullet from Q's P225 killed him.

They still did not know how 003 disabled the Smart Blood. James knew the autopsy had been completed, but whatever the results were, it was sealed and classified For His Eyes Only.

“Not here,” Q replied with a sigh before squeezing his hand slightly. “Sorry.”

James knew it only meant Q would talk about it in his office – where there was a specific type of technology that shut every single electronic thing down. He suspected the evidence was probably the thing holding up all four double-o's release from administrative suspension at the moment.

Very serious indeed.

He leaned over again to kiss the crown of Q's head, breathing in the shampoo and leftover hair gel once more. To his surprise, he felt Q move before a light gentle peck against his chin was given and green eyes behind acetate frames searched his own for more.

James could see the bits and pieces of 001 lingering in Q, but judged it safe enough to indulge and leaned down again to capture Q's lips with his own. The younger man tasted like bittersweet cognac as he reached up with his now freed hand to tilt Q's jaw a little to the side to deepen the kiss. He felt Q shift against him to get into a more comfortable position as they exchanged gentle, but deep kisses, their breaths ghosting over one another's lips whenever they parted for air.

James absently curled his hand over Q's ear and rubbed the scoring scar right above his ear, hidden underneath re-grown curls of brown hair. Q shivered a little at the touch and he smiled into the younger man's lips as he kissed him again. He had discovered one day when they had been kissing in the kitchen over their usual late-night tea that Q was highly sensitive where the gunshot wound from Thomas Ashleigh had been.

Scars were usually a tricky thing. James knew some of his own scars had deadened nerves, unable to feel anything even if numerous women kissed them. He had one or two that were hyper sensitive; ones women usually found and exploited. The one on his shoulder where Patrice had lodged radioactive bullets in it was super sensitive at times.

Q's scar from his gunshot wound was in a spot that James had not expected would be sensitive, but nonetheless, it always made Q shiver if James touched it whenever they kissed. He absently thumbed it again, sending another shiver of lips and shuddering breath against his own that he kissed deeply before releasing to see green eyes alighting against his own.

“I think...” Q's voice was breathless, “that's enough for tonight...”

James could definitely see more of 001 in Q's beautiful eyes than before and knew that they had to stop before it became something of the previous night. As much as he wanted to see what 001 was capable of, it was not fair to Q who would immediately regret it come the morning. He nodded and let Q settle back against his shoulder, trying to steady his breaths. The end of the episode credits were showing now and a preview of the next episode was showing. James glanced down at the mop of brown hair and ran his free hand through it, soothing his friend.

“Go sleep,” he ordered gently. “I got you.”

Q hummed, but closed his eyes and obeyed. Soon, his breaths became even as James continued to card his hand through his hair. Sometimes there was a place for domesticity and in those moments, James truly appreciated Q.

~END~