Q

[0_0_7]

There are men in the world who prey on boys and girls, who capture them and take them and thos innocents become slaves. These walking piles of shit and money can get away with it because of names and titles, because of cash and reputation. And to serve them there are slavers. Oh, in this modern age they've been sanitized to 'traffickers' but it doesn't change what they are.

Once, years ago, a boy with red hair and mismatched eyes brought a fair price. Not that Bond knew that. But the man at the other end of the club in the black shirt with the hidden gun, he knew. He was watching the same man the double-o was.

Bond and Q had come together mostly because Q was the kind who could get them in and Bond was the kind who'd follow along as the boffin's musle. It wasn't uncommon. The club was a headphone club and they were issued pairs to plug into receivers. That way the crowd could dance to the same music without the neighbors complaining of any heavy bass.

But before dancing Bond took Q to get a drink.

"See him?" he asked.

Comments

[quartermaster_q]

"Not yet," Q replied, shaking his head a bit as he accepted the drink, his headphones off for the moment while they chatted.

"I'm a bit unsure as to how I'll be any use here, double-o seven..." he started to say, trailing off as the target moved into his line of sight.

"What exactly is it you want me to do? Tap into his phone?"

[0_0_7]

"I want you to play my slave so he'll believe me that I'm in the market for a younger model," Bond said simply, sipping a scotch.

[quartermaster_q]

"I feel like I should be insulted by that, but I'm more concerned about the fact that I don't think you've got any idea how to be a slave owner," Q replied dryly.

[0_0_7]

"And you do? I'm sure I know how to be an owner better than I know how to be a slave," Bond countered.

[quartermaster_q]

Q scowled a little, but he couldn't argue with that.

"Fine," he huffed. "If you want his attention you'll have to do something to draw it to you. Buying me a drink isn't going to make him look twice."

He wet his lips with a flick of his tongue, then moved in closer.

"Did you ever have pets as a boy? A dog, perhaps?" he asked.

[0_0_7]

"I was very fond of my dog," Bond said, sipping his scotch. Then he snapped his fingers loudly and waved. "Get me another, boy."

[quartermaster_q]

Q raised a brow, but turned and ordered another drink.

"It's not all about teaching them to fetch," he said as he handed it over. "Dogs can be status symbols. They can be adored, pampered... Shown off. But a good trainer also knows when to be firm, and when to push. They demand obedience, kindness is a reward."

Q moved into Bond's personal space then, touching his arm lightly, then his hip.

"The difference is, dogs behave because they love. ...People behave because they're afraid."

[0_0_7]

"How afraid?" Bond asked coolly, then reached up to take hold of Q's ear and pull him back. It was subtle, perfectly acceptable in public, but clearly a move of dominance and something that threatened much more pain to come.

"This isn't my first time, Q, but I do thank you for the pointers."

[quartermaster_q]

Q gasped, but it was a sound of surprise rather than pain.

It worked though, out of the corner of his eye Q could see the target was looking their way. He observed the pair with obvious interest, but made no move to approach yet. Instead he struck up a conversation with another man, chatting away.

"Understood," Q muttered, going still until Bond let go. "This club's dreadful by the way," he added, fixing his hair and taking another sip of his drink.

[0_0_7]

"I like it. It's ridiculous...look at all these idiots dancing to the sounds only they can hear," Bond chuckled. Then he took Q's drink and nodded. "Go dance for me. You know what I like."

[quartermaster_q]

"Oh, you wanker," Q whispered, glaring a little, then turning away and making his way to the dance floor.

Slipping his headphones back on, he started to move. It was slow at first, but he soon found his rhythm- What little he had.

He moved easily, closing his eyes and not thinking anything of the way a few others moved in to dance with him.

[0_0_7]

Bond watched for a while, a purely lascivious look on his face. But then the others moved in and Bond approached, grabbing Q's arm and jerking him roughly out of the throng.

"For me," he snapped. "Not for you. Not for them. For me."

The look in his eyes was murder and it wouldn't take much for Q to pretend fear.

[quartermaster_q]

Q flinched, and it was genuine. He'd been certain he was playing the part well, and he'd not expected Bond to grab him so roughly. It was pantomime, yes, but the pain in his arm was very much real.

His shoulder ached, and the look of pain that creased his features wasn't put on at all.

"It was for you," Q said quietly, so startled that he didn't notice their mark approach.

"Now now, boys. No fighting on the dance floor. Would be a shame to bar the two best looking men here tonight. ...Well, second best," the man quipped, gesturing to himself with a laugh.

Honestly, he wasn't anything like what Q would have imagined. He wasn't far into his forties, and he was handsome, with a charming smile and bright eyes. Actually, he was the sort of man Q would have hit on at the bar, back before he'd fallen hard for Bond. Older, fit, tall... Q didn't even realize he was smiling faintly and staring until the man winked at him.

"You both look a little tense tonight. You in town on business? You look like business," the mark laughed, nodding at Bond, then pulling out his card. "I'm Tony Fields, this is my place- But I own a spa as well. How about I treat you boys to a day of free pampering, huh? ...I think you'll really like it," he added, nodding at Bond again.

[0_0_7]

Bond dropped Q's arm and was suddenly all charm. His smile at Tony was warm as he offered his hand to someone he clearly considered an equal.

"Mr. Fields, how kind of you," he said. "I'm Bond. James Bond. Can I get you a drink to repay you for the offer? I think Quinton would be happy to go to the bar for us and we can chat."

[quartermaster_q]

"A vodka soda for me, Quinton- And be sure to get something for yourself as well. Be sure to tell them to put it all on my tab," Tony said smoothly, smiling at Q again in that unexpectedly soft and friendly way.

Q nodded dumbly, forgetting to even look at Bond before wandering off towards the bar.

[0_0_7]

Bond felt no need to say what he'd drink, Q knew. He followed Tony back to his table. He was all charming smiles and warm words.

"It's so good to meet someone who understands...things," Bond said. "I've had Quinton for years."

[quartermaster_q]

"He's lovely," Tony said, his gaze drifting to Q, who was waiting to be served at the bar. His eyes lingered on the Quartermaster, but soon he was returning his full attention to Bond. "He's obviously not as young as he once was though, I imagine. Perhaps you're looking for someone a little younger? Less experienced?"

[0_0_7]

"Am I that obvious?" Bond chuckled. "I do adore him, I've had him for so long and he knows me. Very...predictable. But his body..."

He shifted his glance to Q and gave him a once over.

"He's become a lovely adult. And he's well trained. But..."

[quartermaster_q]

"You don't need to explain, James- May I call you James?" Tony asked, though he didn't wait for an answer. Instead he looked over at Q again, studying him.

"I'm actually in the market for someone new myself, and I have an associate who could acquire something more to your new tastes. ...Perhaps even at a remarkable discount, if you'd be willing to let me take dear Quinton there off your hands."

[0_0_7]

Traffickers were so predictable, and, to Bond, so repugnant.

"A discount would be nice but I'm not worried about the money, Tony," he smiled. "Is it safe to discuss this here? I realize everyone's in their own little word, but...one must be careful."

[quartermaster_q]

"It's fine," Tony assured him. "We wont spoil the night with buisness chat though," he smiled, letting the topic drop as Q returned, placing everyone's drinks on the table.

Q put his drink beside Bond's, but Tony boldly reached across the table and moved it beside his own.

"I'm sure James wont mind if you sit beside me for a bit, Quinton," Tony said, his voice soft and soothing as he made room for the young quartermaster.

Q, however, glanced at Bond. It wasn't an act either, he genuinely wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to make nice with Tony- Or was Tony crossing a line?

[0_0_7]

"I don't mind a bit. Quinton...best behaviour," Bond said simply. He took his drink and had a slow sip. "When can I see who you have in mind?" he asked.

[quartermaster_q]

Q looked unsure, but sat down beside Tony, his posture slightly stiff as he nodded.

"Tomorrow, at the spa. I'll set aside some time after lunch and bring a few boys in for you to look at. ...Do you prefer brunettes?" Tony asked, his hand moving to the small of Q's back as he spoke, then creeping beneath his jacket and the loose fitting button down shirt he'd worn. "The more you tell me about what you're looking for, the easier it will be for me to find a match," he added, his thumb running slowly over the pronounced ridges of Q's spine. ...Though there was nothing cruel about it. In fact, it was oddly soothing, and not particularly sexual. It reminded him of how he'd idly stroke Oberon while he worked sometimes.

[0_0_7]

"I'm not as concerned with looks as I am temperament," Bond replied. "I like a bit of life. I don't like the ones someone else has taken the time to break. I like clever. I like..."

He looked at Q and twitched a smile.

"Young."

He looked at Q as if he were remembering, picturing the man as a young boy. That he was fond of his slave was obvious. That he was hungry for someone younger and fresh was even more obvious.

[quartermaster_q]

Q knew he was supposed to be playing a part, that he was here not as tech support, but to look and act a certain way. In that moment it was painfully clear why M had picked him- Why Bond had agreed.

Bond smiled, and Q didn't smile back.

Tony's hand moved higher then, rubbing in small circles. Q didn't even realize he was doing it, but he leaned into it, letting himself be soothed.

"Of course," Tony nodded, smiling. "I'm sure I'll be able to find just the one for you."

He slowly removed his hand from beneath Q's shirt, then fished out one of his business cards.

"The address is there at the bottom, be there tomorrow by nine. My staff will treat you both to breakfast and a massage, then we'll meet for lunch and to look at your options. ...Which hotel are you at? I'd love to send along some complementary goodies."