Q

[0_0_7]

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

That was the last thing he'd said befor there was gunfire and the communication shut down. He was on the top floor and Q was in the server room in the basement. The insurgent force had been pared down to four, they thought, and Bond had killed one on his way to the lift. So three. There could be as many as three in the basement with Q doing god only knew what.

He needed to get down, and fast.

Bond forced the lift doors open and jumped into the shaft. He attached the grappler to the cable and held on, his shoes riding the cable as well as his own weight carried him down, down, down. He only stopped when he hit the cross beam that straddled the coiled sping.

Then all he had to do was get the doors open without getting shot...

Bond was driven by a need to get to Q. The silence in his earpiece was maddening.

Comments

[quartermaster_q]

Q was only dimly aware that someone was speaking to him. Even as the bag came off his head and fresh air hit his face, he struggled to focus.

He faded in and out, and when he woke again, he was back in the van- The front seat this time.

Blood soaked his shirt, and he felt dizzy- In fact, everything felt a bit dream like. ...As if he wasn't really there, but simply observing.

"Idiot," he managed to say, looking at Bond. Though who could say if he was insulting Bond or himself.

[0_0_7]

Bond was racing to the nearest triage center, what passed for medical in this corner of the world. He was racing the clock and he knew the chances of success were very slim.

"Don't talk," he barked. Then he laid on the gas and raced to the all night urgent care where they at least, thank god, had a med-evac.

[quartermaster_q]

Q wanted to argue that Bond couldn't tell him what to do, but it seemed reckless to be defiant now.

So he fell silent, struggling to stay alert... And then failing.

It was starting to look like they might not make it to the care centre in time.

[0_0_7]

They still had a mile to go before they'd even be to civilization. Bond looked over and Q was positively ashen and utterly slack.

"Q?" he called, reaching over with one hand to feel for a pulse. He found none. Bond pulled the van off the road and unbuckled, then unbuckled Q. He dragged the man's limp form to the cargo bed and bent over him. Hand on his chest, he started doing compressions.

"R, you've got to get an ambulance to us," he said. "Do you hear me? We're going to lose him if I stop CPR. You have to get an ambulance to us!"

"Right away, Bond. Keep...Keep working. Don't stop..." R said, scrambling to get what help she could to them.

"Q, god damn it, you can't die in this third world shit hole," he growled, forcing Q's heart to beat.

[quartermaster_q]

There was nothing for so long- and then suddenly Q was gasping- Not concious but alive. His heart beat, and his chest rose and fell a little, though he still looked grey and pale.

A moment later and a very old looking ambulance finally arrived, coming to a halt at their side.

[0_0_7]

Bond looked at the vehicle that had arrived for them out of the last century. The medics rushed the van and he was glad to see that no matter how antiquated the equipment, they seemed capable. THey moved Q onto a gurney, fixed him with wires and tubes, and immediately ran an IV to give him whole blood. Bond climbed into the ambulance, too, and off the went.

At the medical center there was one doctor who spoke English there from Doctors Without Borders, but he went back with Q to help stabilize him, Bond was left to rage at R through his ear piece and pace like a caged animal.

[quartermaster_q]

"Double-o seven, I don't think I can even get a translator out there now- They're shutting down the airports, no international flights. ...It's possible you're going to be there for at least a few days. The most I can do is make contact with our agents out there... They'll set you up with some basic weapons, and a safe house if you're still unable to return to London when, and if, Q recovers," R said quietly, trying to calm the double-o the way she'd seen Q manage in the past.

"If you like I could have some entertainment arranged for you, perhaps a fine meal... No reason to remain at the hospital. Q is in good hands."

[0_0_7]

"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Entertainment? Food? Fuck off," he snapped.

"I'm just trying to help, double-o seven. I'll make the arrangements and have a local agent meet you, then."

She terminated transmission, then, leaving Bond to stew.

He paced and sat and paced and sat until one of the ambulance medics came out and bummed him a cigarette. That broke up the routine. They conversed in broken English, Bond picking up a few native words quickly, as he always did.

He was shit at waiting.

It was after midnight when the English speaking doctor emerged.

"He will live but he is in very bad condition. Tonight he will, stabile...how you say? Stabilize? And in the morning the Ambulance will take you to the capitol to the Republican Hospital."

"When can I get him out of the country?" Bond asked.

"Seventy two hours, minimum. He needs blood and fluid. His heart is...is very bad. Three days." He laid a hand on Bond's shoulder. "Come. You will sit with him."

[quartermaster_q]

It had felt as if he'd never be out of hospital. Days felt like weeks, and Q was restless and brooding by the time they let him leave. Though despite his desire to return directly to London, it quickly became apparent that wouldn't be happening.

"There's no flights until next week at the earliest, Q," Tanner had said gently, his voice crackling over the terrible connection. "I'm sorry. I've done my best to arrange decent accommodations, but it's important you lay low. You're in no fit state for a fight."

Which was why they were currently staying in what could only be described as a somewhat modernized hut, in the middle nowhere.

"How is it that when you get shot you wind up in a five star hotel- Yet I get shot, and I'm sent to a bloody hut?" Q asked.

[0_0_7]

"Don't be grouchy, Q. I got shot at home and you had the misfortune of getting shot on the edge of a jungle." He tried to sound light but the truth was that Bond was no more pleased than Q. He did like his five star hotels. But the problem with being white foreigners in this country right now was that you were a target. And this hut was the best protection they had. No one knew where they were save the agent who had delivered them here.

They had water, they had some food, and they had three cartons of cigarettes. And a deck of cards where the joker stood in for the queen of spades. It was going to be a long week.

"Just lay still. Take a nap, maybe."

[quartermaster_q]

"I don't want to nap. I'm restless," Q complained quietly. "God, I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I let those bastards sneak up on me. I never even heard them coming, James."

[0_0_7]

"I had no idea you'd be in any danger, either. It was a failure that won't happen again," Bond said. What he didn't want to say but that he couldn't get out of his head was that Q was bad luck in the field. Kept at headquarters, there was no one better to run him. But out in the field it seemed as if Bond spent half his energy trying to secure his handler.

But M gave the clearance and if M wanted Q in the field, so be it.

"We can play cards..." he offered.

[quartermaster_q]

It was as though Q could read Bond's mind though, and he was silent for a long moment before speaking.

"You think me a burden," he accused quietly.

[0_0_7]

"No," he replied. He could read Q's expression, though and he knew he wouldn't leave it at that. "I think you're a liability in the field."

[quartermaster_q]

Q bristled, then wet his lips.

"If I'd been in your ear, I'd have told you to leave me to die, and stay on site to finish the job," he replied coolly. "That's what you would have done with any other handler, isn't it? ...I'm not a liability, our relationship is," he decided.

[0_0_7]

"No, I work best alone. I tried to save Ronson, too, you know. You're not the first agent who's distracted me from the mission. And I couldn't get the package back so I did the next best thing bringing the helicopter down," he snapped.

[quartermaster_q]

"Then tell M you don't want me in the field any more," Q snapped.

[0_0_7]

"I don't want you to leave the bloody flat anymore!" he shouted.

[quartermaster_q]

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Q snipped. "You fret far too much. I'm remarkably resilient, you should know that by now. Captured, beaten, drugged, shot- Yet I always survive, and I always get on with it! I am not some frail little boffin, Bond. I'm not weak. ...Look at me. I wasn't breathing a few days ago, and now I'm standing here. Standing, Bond. Not laying in bed waiting to be waited on hand and foot."

[0_0_7]

Bond couldn't contest that and so he could only growl loudly in frustration.

With little else to do he snatched up a pack and the lighter and went outside.

[quartermaster_q]

Q didn't like being walked off on, and though moving around was still very painful, he followed the other man outside, silently demanding a cigarette as well.

[0_0_7]

And Bond gave him one, and held the lighter for him as well. He was still smarting and he really wanted to se Q stay safe, but that simply wasn't the reality of things.

"I'd rather I be shot than you," he sulked. "Not that I want to be shot. It's a bloody pain. But if it's you or me I'd rather it be me."

[quartermaster_q]

"I know," Q said, softening slightly, and looking over at Bond with a hint of sympathy in his gaze. "I know, and to be honest, sometimes I'd rather it was you as well- Not because I want harm to come to you, but because I hate seeing you afraid. I hate knowing I am the reason you're in pain."

He took a long drag, then sighed softly.

"Tell me what would make this better. Not right now, but long term. What would put you more at ease, James?"

[0_0_7]

Bond took a drag and exhaled, then licked his lips. It bought him a little time to think.

"Body armour," he said. "That would be a start. And a better tracker of some sort."

Hardly the best option in his mind- the best being Q remaining at headquarters0 but it was something.

[quartermaster_q]

"Alright," Q replied, nodding a bit. "I'm not certain the tracker is possible, but armour of some sort is certainly an option.