londoncallingrpg

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OTA

Outside of work, outside of his relationship with James, and outside of the various naughty activities (both online and off) he got up to in his spare time, Q lived a fairly normal life. He rode the tube, picked up his shopping, took care of his beloved cat... Normal things. Boring things. ...Things that kept him grounded at least somewhat in the world all the normals and civilians called home. It was nice, usually- A tiny escape from the reality he knew.

Though it was also, on occasion, painfully dull- And living in said world meant dealing with normal inconveniences, like going to the bank- and having said bank held up when all you wanted to do was deposit a bloody check- Something you could have done online if their website hadn't been so bloody rubbish.

He was sitting on the floor, along with several other hostages, watching as four armed men shouted at the two cashiers and the bank manager. They wore masks, so Q didn't feel as though he was in any intimidate danger (more likely to just take the money and run than shoot), but he was feeling a touch inconvenienced. The sooner this was over, the better.

Slipping his hand casually into his pocket, he sent off three texts.

The first went to Bond:

If you're not terribly busy, perhaps you could come fetch me? 4m4g17hSparrow

The next went out to all of Q branch:

Activate LCCTV44670. Thank you. - Q

The last went out to a special list he'd compiled of local agents and officers. Not just five and six, but anyone he'd deemed competent and worthy of a small amount of trust:

If anyone would be so kind, I could use a little help. Code 8967-793Q

With any luck, this would all be sorted soon enough.

(Open to all! If you are police/agent/whatever feel free to assume you got Q's text (and that the code given lets you know who he is and why you should go get him). If you are none of those things, feel free to be a hostage as well, or simply passing by! I'd prefer if no one got hurt or anything (it's just meant to be a tiny bit of excitement), but if you really want your pup to get hurt, that's fine.)

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How very subtle. Though Q supposed he could expect nothing less from Bond really.

One of the gunmen began to shout, turning his weapon on one of the tellers who let out a frightened cry.

Q looked at Bond, raising a brow and offering a look that was easy to read.

Let's not get everyone killed, hmm?

Bond caught the look and arched a brow, then leveled his cool gaze on the one with the active hostage. They were all hostages, but it was only the frightened woman with the gun to her head that Bond was worried about.

"Who the fuck are you?" the robber demanded.

"I'm negotiations," Bond said. "I've come in to let you know you have two choices. You can be arrested or you can be shot. Which would you rather?"

He ws so calm, so serene that the robbers almost had no idea what to do.

The robbers looked baffled for a moment, until finally one of them spoke up.

"Nah, mate- What's going to happen is this. You're going to get us a car, you're going to tell the cops to fuck right off, or this girl's going to have her brains on the wall. We clear?"

One of the others, however, was clearly a touch brighter than the rest, and had noticed the exchanged glances between Bond and Q. His face was hidden behind his mask, but the look in his eyes was unmistakable. Q could pinpoint the exact moment the man put two and two together.

Well. Bugger.

"Get up," the gunman said, turning his weapon on Q. "Get up and come 'ere."

Q calculated various outcomes, then reluctantly stood and made his way over. ...So much for ending this without anyone winding up dead then.

"How about that car now?" the robber said, looking Bond right in the eyes.

Q wondered if the man would have been quite so bold if he'd realized he'd just threatened one of the deadliest men in the world.

The gunman targeted Q and then things began to move very, very quickly. Bond took a step forward and as he did he reached into his coat. Not even a breath later and the gunman near Q didn't have a chance to put his hands on the boffin before a neat hole appeared on the forehead of his mask and he dropped like a stone. Bond's gun turned on the man with the teller in his hold and he paused.

"There won't be a car," he said simply, then fired. The teller screamed but the man behind her fell just as his companion had.

Those were the two most imminent threats, both neutralized. Bond stopped to see if anyone else wanted to choose the messy end, or if jail was the clear choice.

The two remaining men lowered their guns and raised their hands in surrender- Just as the police finally came through the doors.

Q seemed to relax then, making his way over to Bond.

"Do you think it's terribly hard to get blood out of a cashmere blend?" he asked, looking down at the small splatter near his collar as he spoke. "It's not an issue I've ever encountered before. Can't imagine my dry cleaner will be pleased."

"You can get blood out of most anything if you try hard enough. Your cleaner won't have any trouble if you point it out to them. And a word to the wise- don't entertain them with a story of how it got there. Just ask them to get it out," Bond said blandly as he tucked his gun away and then slid an arm around Q's shoulders to escort him out.

Q hummed, then returned his attention to Bond.

"Hope I didn't pull you away from anything too important," he said as they stepped outside.

"Just Downing Street," he replied, so dryly it may have been a joke...though this really wasn't a moment for being light. It left it to Q to wonder why the PM would talk to Bond personally and not go trough M.

"They let you visit with the PM?" Q asked with a quiet snort of laughter. "I dread to think how that went."

"I have impeccable manners when it's necessary," Bond reminded him. "Some people even think I'm charming."

"Some people like frozen dinners, it doesn't make then right," Q smirked, the smile fading as one of the officers approached them.

"I'm sorry, but we'll need statements from both of you," the man said. "I'll meed you to come with me- And I'll need your side arm," he added, nodding to Bond.

Bond wasn't about to relinquish his gun here in the street but he did change his course to follow along. Busy little police stood around looking imposing, and mostly ineffectual. It was a good show but the threat was neutralized.

"I need to call in to the office to see what I'm allowed to say," Bond said, shockingly comfortable with this part of the process. Local enforcement always wanted him to give a statement and that statement was often 'no comment'.

One of the ambulance workers came rushing over, and Q looked positively insulted when he asked if the young Quartermaster needed a blanket.

"I could use some tea," Q replied blandly. "Earl grey, preferably. Two sugars please, and just a splash of milk."

Bond chuckled at the sheer amount of cheek it took for Q to say that to the man who clearly only wanted to help. He was escorted one way and Q taken another. Bond was on his mobile to speak directly to M before he gave any statement- and then he simply passed the phone over and it was M himself that gave the statement.

Bond was allowed to return to Q's side, finding the young man with the requested cup and a medic standing around looking useless.

"The tea's quite good, you should have a cup," Q said as Bond reached his side. "...What did M have to say?" he asked.

"He only asked me if it was an absolute necessity I use deadly force and then he took it over. I told him there was a very real threat against you personally and he stood up for us," Bond said, waving off the offer of tea. He really wasn't surprised M had his back, though it was a bit of a shock that Mallory didn't give him the sharp rebuke she</> would have. Mallory seemed to understand well what Bond had to do in a situation...and he hadn't yet been assailed by the agent's violent streak to the same degree and was more indulgent.

Bond liked that about the man. And to him it was more important what Q had to say about it all.

"I don't think they'd have really opened fire- Though I suppose one can never guess what a trapped animal might do," Q mused aloud, looking thoughtful.

"I suppose I'll have to go fill out paperwork back at the office now- Do you think if I told M I was in shock he'd believe me and let me ignore it- Or do you think he'd just make me see the psychiatrist for coming it with him?"

"I think there's very little that will get you out of the paperwork, Q. But if you like I'll go get your favorite curry and bring it back to HQ and sit with you while you fill it all out," Bond offered.

"I think I'm a bit too excited for curry," Q said, though it was hard to tell if he was being serious or not. Sometimes the man's placid tone made it nearly impossible to read him.

"The paperwork wont take long. I'll just meet you at home if you like- Unless you have other things to attend to?" he asked, not wanting to assume that Bond wasn't working simply because he'd come when called for.

"No, that will be fine. Actually my next step is to see my Quartermaster, but that isn't until tomorrow morning," he said. "I'm sure you'll hear from M and the PM before I come in in the morning."

He said nothing more, nor would he. There was a protocol about missions and Bond did have some sense of preservation. He wasn't about to panic Q with news of a trip to China. Best to let M do that and smooth his feathers before Bond got there.

Q looked unamused, but he didn't argue.

"Why do I get the feeling I wont be pleased to hear what they have to say?" he asked dryly, offering a sigh as he finished his tea. "Hmm, I will see you later, double-o seven. ...Do feed Oberon for me, it's past his tea time you know."

And just like that, without so much as a 'goodbye', the young Quartermaster headed off to hail a cab.

Bond turned to return to his car. If curry was off the table then he'd find something else. Something filling and comforting. He settled on Italian and went to a family restaurant he knew where the portions were generous and everything was prepared from scratch with care. Once he'd secured dinner he went home- still odd to think of it as home, but he'd moved in so he needed to change his thinking- and Oberon greeted him with demanding mews. Bond set the dinner aside and took care of Oberon, feeding him a can of premium food and stroking him as he ate.

It felt as though he was in HQ for hours, but soon enough the paperwork was sorted, and Q was gathering his things to leave.

"Has he told you about China then?" M asked as Q headed for the door.

"Hmm?" the young Quartermaster replied, looking slightly perplexed.

"China- I need him there, just for a few days. I'll need you in to run him, of course. I don't know how you manage it, but he's much better behaved when you're in his ear."

Q didn't look amused, but forced a smile. "My charm, no doubt," he quipped dryly. "Goodnight, M."

It felt like a very long ride home, but soon enough he was there, letting himself in and moving immediately to the electric kettle.

"China," he said in greeting, rather than 'hello'. "When do you leave?"

The problem with the way Q spoke was that Bond had a terribly difficult time reading him. He was always so crisp and calm that it was hard to tell when he was upset. Bond followed after the younger man to the kitchen and slipped his arms around Q.

"Friday night," he said quietly. "Did M explain the mission to you?"

"No. He seemed a bit surprised you hadn't already told me though. All he said was that I'd be running you- I assume he intends to fill me in once you're gone so I can't protest- Which leads me to deduce it's something particularly dangerous this time," Q said quietly as he clicked the kettle on.

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