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

[0_0_7]

"No one cares about old dogs," he said. "Except you. For which I am terribly thankful."

He kissed Q slowly, longing for more but knowing dinner was on its way.

"He'll try to take you," he whispered. "But he won't succeed."

[quartermaster_q]

"Obviously," Q purred. "We need to learn as much as we can before you take him down though, Bond. Don't jump the gun on this one just because it's me. I can handle myself, I promise."

[0_0_7]

"I'll go out of my bloody head if he puts his hands on you," Bond admitted. "To think he'd dare..."

[quartermaster_q]

"He wont. He won't, Bond," Q said, sounding calm and sure, even though he had no way of knowing that. It didn't matter if it was true though, he just needed Bond to believe it. He needed the double-o focused and calm tomorrow. His mind on the mission, not Q.

[0_0_7]

Q truly was a wizard. There was no one in the world better suited to holding Bond's leash. Just a few soothing words from the boffin and Bond relaxed and focused. No, it was unthinkable Tony would touch him, or even try to take him. No, it was unthinkable they might falter or fail. That would never happen. Not with Q in control.

"Dinner will be here soon," he said, nuzzling Q like a happy pet seeking approval.

[quartermaster_q]

"What did you order?" Q asked, stroking Bond's hair, then smiling as he brushed his thumb over the blond stubble on the other man's chin.

[0_0_7]

"A good, hearty chicken dinner," he said. "All the sides...even candied yams since they had them left from the menu du jour," he added, nibbling little kisses along Q's jawline.

[quartermaster_q]

"Sounds lovely," Q laughed, tilting his head to offer Bond a bit more skin. "I really am starving," he confessed.

[0_0_7]

"It better get here soon because I'm about to start undressing you," Bond murmured, enjoying the skin of Q's neck and the soft curve of his belly below his ribs.

[quartermaster_q]

"I'm not eating chicken naked," Q laughed, wriggling away and perking up at the sound of a knock at their door.

"That'll be it now."

[0_0_7]

Bond groaned and rolled off, letting Q get the door.

There was actually a team that came in to put the dishes on the table in the room. Rotisserie chicken, the skin golden and crackly. A bowl of peeled potatoes and a tureen of gravy, another bowl of steamed carrots, broccoli and cauliflower, a dish of candied yams, and a silver dome over two slices of triple chocolate cheesecake.

[quartermaster_q]

Q inhaled deeply, smiling as he took a seat at the table and started to fill his plate.

"This is perfect," he said, once they were alone again. "It all smells lovely."

[0_0_7]

Bond got up and took care of the staff, then sat and began to dish up his own.

"The chicken smells divine," he said as he began to carve it up.

[quartermaster_q]

"It does," Q agreed, forgetting all about Tony in favour of focusing on a lovely meal with the man he loved.

"We should have proper meals more often. Sunday dinners or something."

[0_0_7]

"Do you think so? How very old fashioned," Bond smiled. "I'm not a shabby chef. I could do a chicken or a joint of beef," he said.

[quartermaster_q]

"We can feed the scraps to Oberon, and have the telly on in the background- Like normal people or something," Q smiled.

[0_0_7]

"Like normal people," he repeated. "I like that. Let's plan to do it. No take away. Home cooking, every Sunday."

[quartermaster_q]

"It's a date, double-o seven," Q smiled, lifting his glass in toast.

He ate slowly, enjoying each bite. However, soon his belly was full and his plate was empty, and he was yawning as he started to slink off back towards the bed.

"We should set an alarm. We don't want to be late tomorrow. Do you know what I should wear? I've never been to a spa."

[0_0_7]

Something comfortable...but they give you a robe and trunks and slippers upon arrival," he replied. With his belly full he could scarcely think of seducing Q. He just wanted to sleep.

[quartermaster_q]

"A t shirt then? Some simple trousers?" Q asked, wiggling beneath the covers as he spoke.

[0_0_7]

"Mmm, dressed down. Yes, I think so," he said, slipping in against him and draping an arm around him. Bond rubbed his stomach. "You're stuffed. Properly stuffed," he chuckled. "You'll sleep well."

[quartermaster_q]

Q laughed softly, curling up against James with a smile.

"Like a log," he assured the double-o.

Moments later and he was fast asleep, out cold through to the morning. Even then, it was only the sound of the alarm that pulled him from his dreams.

[0_0_7]

Bond was already up, showered and shaving when the alarm went off.

"Don't hit the snooze. Come on, get up," he said cheerfully.

[quartermaster_q]

Groaning, Q forced himself out of bed, grabbing a few things from his case before slinking off to the bathroom.

He returned soon after, showered and dressed. He wore a plain black tee and a pair of fitted black jeans, paired with an old pair of tennis shoes and his least favourite glasses- A pair with simple black rims that he didn't mind losing or breaking.

"I suppose we shouldn't risk ear pieces," he noted as he checked himself in the mirror.

[0_0_7]

"No," Bond agreed. He'd dressed casually, too. A t shirt and a sportcoat paired with snug jeans. He looked like he was on holiday.

Except for the gun hidden in the inside pocket of the sportcoat.

"When you're ready to go. I'd like to be prompt."