Q

[0_0_7]

It had been hot all week, the humidity making it uncomfortable. But tonight it had started to rain. Hot summer rain started, but then the lightning and thunder came and the winds, too. By midnight it had cooled off and was a passable temperature, even if it was pissing down a drizzle.

Bond had been sent to Paris by way of Algiers in order to locate Fazir Al Habib, a notorious gun runner. MI6 had gotten word he may be dabbling in other wares as well. Intel said he had gotten his hand on some engineered virus out of defunct Soviet vaults and was looking for a buyer. It was imperative, he'd been told, to acquire the biohazard.

He'd made contact with a man named Michele who had set up a meeting. But the briefcase hadn't come through and Bond had no money to show. The meeting was at 9am and he was in a bind, on the phone to the home office every hour.

He stood in his hotel room, watching the rain through an open window, pacing like a tiger. Surely they wouldn't leave him without money to show. They had made clear in no uncertain terms he needed to get this virus.

Comments

[cuppa_q]

There was a knock on the door, and when James opened it what he found on the other side was a very wet and unhappy looking Q holding a briefcase.

"Apparently when we get a new PM the whole bloody office just continuously shits itself for the next seven weeks or so," the boffin sulked, holding out the briefcase.

"Please tell me there's tea."

[0_0_7]

"There can be tea," he replied, closing the door then walking to the mini space that had a microwave, small fridge, a kettle, a coffee pot, and an assortment of mugs, glasses, and accouterment. He turned the kettle on.

"You look like a drowned rat, Q," he said, looking him up and down.

[cuppa_q]

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Q sighed, shedding his coat and dropping the small duffel bag he'd brought on the floor as he began to get changed.

"Bring me up to speed," he requested. "Any complications so far?"

[0_0_7]

"No, it all seems to be going according to plan. I meet at 9 with him. The only hiccup was I didn't have that," he said, nodding to the briefcase. "Do you know if the other agents are in place to arrest him?"

He hadn't even been told if the back up squad had arrived in the city.

[cuppa_q]

"...They aren't coming. Tanner is working on repairing our coms, but it was deemed unnecessary by the higher ups to send more people. They believe you're capable of handling this alone. Your orders are to..."

Q trailed off but pretended to shoot with his fingers.

"Word was meant to come through before I arrived."

[0_0_7]

"Oh, bloody hell," Bond huffed. "We're meeting in a bistro. Collateral damage will be significant."

The kettle began to boil and he poured Q a cup of tea. As it steeped he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose. Not his usual, but the bottle was a gift from the concierge. He poured some in a glass.

"This just gets better and better."

[cuppa_q]

"We could head him off before the meeting," Q suggested. "And by we, I mean you."

[0_0_7]

"The timing would have to be perfect," he replied. "And I'd need you to be in my ear at all times."

[cuppa_q]

"I'm sure that could be arranged," Q replied. "I'm for any plan where I get to be in my pajamas."

[0_0_7]

"You and your pajamas," Bond scoffed, but smiled. He took a large swallow of his vodka.

"Alright, we need to sit down and make a plan. Why don't you get in your pajamas and pull out your computer and do that thing you do."

[cuppa_q]

"Gladly," Q replied, getting changed and sorting out his laptop.

Tapping away, Q seemed to be in his own little world, but eventually he glanced up. "Sending blueprints to your smart watch. I'll have full access to the cameras shortly."

[0_0_7]

"Excellent," Bod replied. In the time it had taken Q to do his thing, Bond had finished one vodka, poured another, and had slipped into his own pajamas. It was early by his standards, but there was work to do to prepare in the morning so he may as well get some decent sleep.

"You know what I wish I had? Those glasses that you developed with the read out screen on the inside of the lenses. It would make everything so much easier. They're still in R&D though, aren't they?"

[cuppa_q]

"Well, after I saw Harry's my own seemed less than perfect," Q sulked. "They're improving though."

[0_0_7]

"Maybe Harry could get you in to collaborate with Kingsman. I bed you'd make something even better, Q," Bond said.

[cuppa_q]

"I don't think 6 would approve, do you?" Q replied.

[0_0_7]

"And when, exactly, have you always done things 6 would approve of?" Bond countered. "I'ts R&D. Consulting Merlin would qualify as 'R', wouldn't it?"

[cuppa_q]

"Rarely since meeting you," Q replied tartly. "I'll think about it."

[0_0_7]

"Do," he replied. Bond checked his watch, then pulled out his phone. He'd put a tracker on Michele and watched the man drive past the Eiffel tower and head for Mon Marte. He could only guess what he was up to.

[cuppa_q]

"What did you intend to do this evening then?" Q asked curiously, still tapping away.

[0_0_7]

"I was going to keep tabs on Michele, have some dinner, then try to get some sleep. You know that won't happen, though. I never sleep well before a mission like this," Bond replied, still staring at his phone.

[cuppa_q]

"We could order room service and a film," Q offered.

[0_0_7]

"Room service was my plan. I hate dining alone," he said. "But now you're here...I doubt the dining room can compete with your pajamas, though."

[cuppa_q]

"Few things can," he replied with a wistful sigh.

[0_0_7]

"I imagine not," Bond chuckled. "Check the menu and see what you'd like. I'll place the call."

[cuppa_q]

"No, just order me whatever. Just make sure there's bread. No excuse for coming to France and not having bread," Q said absently, still working as he spoke.